And so it begins. The strung-out laziness of summer officially ends with October 31’s Halloween hijinks, no longer can we convince ourselves that we have plenty of time to relax. It’s on. This part of the year with is as equally beloved as it is dreaded, as it conjures up warm memories of hugs and kindness and festivities… Alongside worries of extra long to do lists, presents, the ever-present notion that this chaos will not ease up until (roughly) January 2nd.
I always find this part of the year exquisitely amusing and breathtaking and humbling, however. I try to remember to expend more energy on showing my love and less of it making myself feel guilty because I don’t have enough presents for people or a nice enough dress in my closet for the party or that my apartment isn’t decorated like Santa’s Workshop. Because, no matter, what, at some point the latter will beat the former. I’ll find myself at 3am wondering how in the hell I got my hand superglued to my scissors, worrying if people will like their gifts, fretting because they came together 5 million times less elegant in reality than they did in my head.
And I’ll forget this little message to myself, to love and be present and enjoy as I’m near tears promising myself, “I will make awesome presents next year!” or trying to invent a way to present my rushed and last minute creation as inspired instead of, well, just last minute and rushed. And why last minute and rushed? Because I conned myself into thinking that those gifts would somehow make the holidays, when the best way to make the holidays was to be happy and cheerful and willing to make thoughtful presents of a realistic size instead of deluding myself into making something grandiose and amazingly clever.
I’ll forget the excited feeling I have today and the holidays being upon us, despite all the new chores it may bring, and suddenly find myself startled awake at 7am after falling asleep with those damn scissors superglued to my hand amidst a billion crappy presents. I’ll forget the real reason why I love making things for others, because not only do I love the act of making, I also love the act of telling people how much they mean to me.
I’ll get those confused and forget, despite all my attempts at the contrary, that a small meaningful well-executed and thought out present conveys just as much love and appreciation and warmth as some bastardized attempt to “outgift” everyone else in the vain attempt to avoid your gift being subject to “regifting,” thus sealing your fate to having a weepy, pathetic, sleepless night with most likely some sort of crafty implement glued to yourself by accident in the near future.
So, today, just a little reminder that little gifts given with big hearts are always a much better idea than big gifts given with big egos. But just in case you do get those scissors superglued to your hand, get in touch, I’ve learned more than a few emergency solutions to separating the two without much bloodshed.
Oh, and, by the way, happy holidays! Let the chaos commence, the festivities start and the big hugs marked for all those loved ones you haven’t seen in awhile begin!
