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Like many mothers of young children, I used to spend much of November and December in preparation for Christmas. I wanted to make it magical for them. Despite having a full-time job, I managed to shop, wrap, decorate, bake, send homemade cards, and plan menus. And then I shopped some more, which meant wrapping some more, and then that one string of lights would go out, and I'd forgotten to buy the chocolate chips, and the dog ate the low-hanging candy canes, and where the hell did I put those damn Christmas CDs? You get the picture.
And then one year, on December 23, I said, "Screw this! We're going out to dinner!" Now, going to a restaurant was not something we did very often, unless you count the $10 for a pie and a pitcher at a local pizza joint on a Wednesday night. But I was in serious need of somebody waiting on me. So we did that . . . and then it became a tradition.
But it wasn't about the fancy restaurant meal. It was about slowing down, taking a break, remembering to breathe. A full belly and a little buzz helped me face the next day and all its last-minute work, culminating in a Christmas Eve family gathering. And then the reward was staying in pajamas all of Christmas Day, eating leftovers and relishing the truth that there was nothing more that I needed to do.
I left those traditions behind years ago, but I still sense a need to slow down, to breathe, on this day. And so I'm offering a piano solo, "December," by Windham Hill artist, George Winston. This beauty dates back to 1982, when "New Age" was still a new thing. If you like it, you can find the full album (also titled December) on youtube. Click the "play" arrow, pour a glass, put your feet up, and breathe.
Feel better? I thought so.
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