The holidays this year were nice, on purpose. Step one: manage expectations. Every day I carried with me the best advice: "strive for a B- Christmas". Not perfect, not A, not gold star. Not even memorable. Just tender and sweet and full of treasured details. Absolved of any responsibility to make everyone's (anyone's) wishes come true. I approached this fully alone (not even church) Christmas for Jack and I determined to have something to look forward to. Step 2: plan ahead! As someone steeply tipped toward melancholy on a good day, the holidays are perilous. So I marched family up a mountain in deep snow on Thanksgiving for one they'll not forget soon (one girl's first pee in the woods!), was virtually first to the lot for the prettiest Fraser fir available, and make a full Christmas menu. The prep was extensive so I had to remember it was the prep itself I was enjoying, not laboring through it to get to some nirvana at the other end. And so I planned a Swedish Christmas Eve meal complete with Glogg (but missing my grandmother's braided cardomom braid because keto) and a German Christmas day meal with keto cranberry Moscow mules for pregame. There may or may not have been spreadsheets involved. And I am perfectly happy - ecstatic, in fact - that after my planned festivities he got to watch football while I delved fully into the magic of Bridgerton. All was merry and bright.
Going into the dark time of the year it felt important to breathe into the details, to spend more time on the bark and the needles, let alone the trees or forest. The whole seems too big right now, but in these small moments a whole is made. Like our New Year's Eve hot toddies and my state park adventure first day hike from 7400' to nearly 8000'. Start the year off the way you intend to spend it, right? Moving about in nature, learning, covered in sunshine, adventuring with my dog. What happens deep within brings forth what happens above, becomes visible. If we do it right, the rest will come. Slainte!
