Last week I managed to not leave my house from Sunday to Thursday. It was wonderful and restorative and just what I needed to finally kick the cold that had been with me forever, just what I needed to really get into the holiday spirit, just what I needed to make me feel balanced and centered once again.
Of course, this was all made easier by the weather, there was lots of snow and then it got really, really cold – on one of those days it was nine degrees when I woke up. Much too cold for this time of year.
And then this past weekend all that snow melted away when it warmed up into the forties and there was rain and rain and more rain. It was grey outside, but glowing with golden Christmas light inside.
I went for a short walk and I found this tiny nest up in our maple tree. Still intact, despite the weather.
I joke a lot that I am a hermit, but really, deep down, I think I am. I am so happy when I can stay home, when I can nest. If I go too long without having this kind of time, I feel off.
Those five days last week were a gift.
And it wasn’t that I was relaxing, I wasn’t. I worked hard every day. But at the end of the day, all I had to do was light the fire, eat dinner, maybe write a little. I didn’t feel at all like I was being chased by a giant to-do list. Even though there is one on my desk, the holiday to-do list is always long and often overwhelming, but somehow, this year, I can look at it and smile a smile that says, “yes, I see you, and we are friends.”
Maybe I’m just in denial. But I’d like to think that perhaps it’s because I’ve learned a few things this year about stress and about life and about what’s really important.
My life has been much the same as the year before it, except for my blogs. Somewhere within these posts a shift took place, a shift towards appreciating and savoring and cherishing. Even tiny little moments like the one right now as I sit by the fire and the newly-decorated Christmas tree, all by myself, enjoying the peace and the quiet and the pretty white lights.
All tucked into my nest, safe and dry
and grateful, oh so grateful
to be here.
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