Zoom, zoom

Coming out of the Christmas holiday is sort of like the last third of an amusement park coaster ride. The speed and spin factors become almost unbearable, you can see the finish line if you dare to open your eyes, and you feel increasingly ill.

Then it's done, you're coasting to a stop, and at once the simultaneous relief and letdown flood your every pore. (On a side, note, my post-holiday nausea probably isn't caused by motion sickness, but instead by a horrifyingly out-of-control consumption of cookies...)

As usual, I'm feeling much more relief than any other emotion. Christmas has pretty much lost most of its association with Christ, from what I see; mostly, it feels like a giant buy-a-thon these days. Not to mention that it's feeling rather brutal of late, what with pepper-sprayed shoppers and gun-toting, sneaker-buying thugs getting all the news coverage. This is why I shop second-hand, people—most shoppers can't afford weapons or self-defense sprays at the Goodwill.

So, honestly, I'm glad it's all over. Now comes the season of steeling oneself for the survival of long, cold, winter months. But already the days are getting a tiny bit longer, aren't they? We can cling to that, even while knit scarves and hats cling to our hair and throats as we try to endure the misery.

Happily, I am once again amazed and touched at the generosity of friends and family around us. We are really blessed, in so many ways. I guess that if I were to make a resolution, it would be to cultivate a genuine attitude of gratitude. A grateful heart really does change a person's perspective.

I found some great little Mary Engelbreit cards on clearance at the craft store, and one of them spoke to me: "If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change the way you think about it!"

That will be my goal. Because, truly, I feel like time is slipping away faster than I can mark it. Alongside the relief of holidays safely past, crouching unobtrusively next to my snow boots, is the quiet, sobering realization that I don't have nearly as much time as I thought I did.

Relief

That's what I'm feeling these days. Relief.

It's sad to think that relief is my primary emotion as the Christmas season comes to a close, but there it is. The overabundance of the holidays always depresses me. It's supposed to be about our savior being "with us" and yet, for all my measures to keep the event simple and reasonable, it still ends up being a festival of wrapping, foreign-manufactured plastic, silly spending (mostly other people's), and brattiness in even well-grounded children.

So, I'm thankful that my son has many nice, new things to entertain him and sad that once again we've missed the boat.

The part that really gets me down is that our Christmas is so mild compared to many other households in America. My son knows, at least, why he's being showered with gifts; he knows in Whose honor it's happening, even if the point is sometimes buried in packaging. How many homes are gifting in complete disregard? And—worse—into huge amounts of debt?

I'm looking forward to 2011. I've been reminded in 2010, over and over, that I'm not in control and that the earth is not my final destination. I will try to cherish each day, and find good and blessings even when things don't go the way I'd hoped. And I will try to remember, too, that this is not my home.

Here's to fresh starts. If the new year doesn't come soon enough, there's still new mercy every morning.

******

On a side note, during the craziness of Christmas, I opened an Etsy shop to sell paintings and prints of them. (Some of you knew this already. Sorry to repeat myself!)

I hope you'll visit me there, and share the link with others.

Resolutions? We don't need no stinkin' resolutions

Hey, everyone, my resolution for 2010 is to be a slacker blogger. As evidenced by my lack of presence here lately.

Okay, that's not really my resolution.

My real resolution is to learn to use power tools. Even just one power tool. A nail gun, an electric screwdriver, a Dremel for cryin' out loud. Anything. I must conquer my fear of power tools, thus enabling me to be a better fixer-upper without always having to consult the power-tool-operating member of my team (husband). Yes, it'll be tough, and nerve-wracking (for him as well), and somebody might get hurt. But I think it's time. I'm 40 now; it's not going to get any easier. And it's either this, or learn to ski, or take another geometry class. And those last two? Not happening.

My other resolution is to stop apologizing for being a loner. It's part of my system of religious beliefs to be social (I think I've already touched on that point in other posts—and if I kept a tidier blog, I could probably locate them...but I don't, so I can't). So, I'll try to cultivate a love of social behaviors and occasions. But truly? Deep down? I can be a bit misanthropic. It's who I am. I need to stop being sorry that I'm not a "people" person. I like people, like spending time with some of them, even find a few of them to be delightful and inspiring. But they tire me; they make me weary. In the end, the only thing that really fuels me is time alone. Especially time spent creating things: paintings, necklaces, meals, a tidy and organized room. That's what gets me going. I'm not sorry, and I'm not going to pretend any longer that I am. All of us can't be talented athletes, all of us can't be mathematicians, all of us can't be model-gorgeous, and all of us can't be social butterflies. Imagine how annoying a world of social butterflies would be. Who would keep things going while all those chatty kathies* were busy networking? The misanthropes, that's who. I mean, we're all necessary cogs in the big wheel. But that's my point: we're all necessary. Even the loners.

So there you have it. It would seem that I do, indeed, have some stinkin' resolutions. What are yours? Go ahead, spill 'em. I'd love to hear!

* I by no means meant to imply that only girls are chatty. I've met quite a few male butterflies in my many years, too.