The Year of Doing Nothing (post 1.07)

I was rushed putting the Christmas tree up this year because we had company coming.  I put on the traditional holiday glass ornaments, white and red and gold, and a few other decorations of the season, but I did not get out my favorite ornaments, the animals.  I thought at the time that I would return to do that in a day or two and then I just didn't get around to it. 

Shortly after the New Year, I was considering taking the tree down as usual.  After a week or two of putting it off, I realized I didn't want to take it down.  The tree was bringing me great comfort this year. As I sat near it to read and study and reflect, I became aware that the tree was helping me to wait patiently, which I had the sense was a kind of prerequisite for The Year of Doing Nothing.

There have been many changes in my world over the last year and while we had some respite during the holiday, soon after the momentum of life took over again, resetting my family to a faster pace. My fiance returned to full-time work on January 3 after being out of work for 19 months. My son went back to school and back to "raging" adolescence in all it's glory. I sat near the tree wondering just how I was going to "do" The Year of Doing Nothing, even as my ever-changing world continued to spin around me.   Sitting near the tree, I was aware that I was able to breath deeply and remain in touch with my gratitude for the abundance in my life. Sitting near the tree, I was able to get in touch with the spacious expanse of doing nothing.  I had time. I did not have to rush. On some organic level, I knew inspiration could not be rushed.


So I kept the tree up, but redecorated it to make it more reflective of nature. I took all the ornaments off and brought out pine cones, boughs of berries, and my animal ornaments, birds, mice, polar bears, armadillos (!), etc.  A dear friend of mine reminded me that it was the Pagans, pre-dating the Christians, who started the tradition of lighting an evergreen tree. The tree lights were symbolic of  hope that the "dark" season would pass and a new season of light would return, when the sun would again stay longer in the sky and planting could begin.  It was in the spirit that I redecorated the tree.