Christmas Traditions

Another Christmas has come and gone, and now it's time to focus on finishing this year's reading challenge on Goodreads and to make my New Year's resolutions.

But I couldn't let this Christmas season (which technically began yesterday and runs until Epiphany, for those of you who are keeping track) pass by without sharing our family's unique Christmas Eve tradition.

We take part in many common Christmas traditions.  We decorate, bake cookies, light the Advent wreath, keep up with an Advent calendar, leave cookies for Santa, and set out reindeer food.  But my favorite Christmas tradition is our annual Christmas Eve meal at Outback Steakhouse.

Stick with me.

When my husband and I were first married, we owned a little townhouse in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina.  We bought a cute little tree that I referred to as our "Charlie Brown Christmas Tree", and we decorated it with a few ornaments and a tiny strand of tinsel.  Two tiny gifts sat underneath the tree, which was perched on a cheap TV table.  We didn't have a lot of money, but I purchased a couple of steaks from the butcher and baked potatoes, ready for the grand debut of married life Christmas Eve dinner.

The potatoes were in the oven and I had just put the steaks on the stove top to sear when the power went out.  For no reason.  It wasn't raining.  There were no wind gusts.  It was a beautiful Christmas Eve.  With no power.

We waited for a few minutes as my heart broke apart even further--our first Christmas, and it was ruined.  And more so--I had wasted all of this money on the partially-seared steaks.

Eventually we had to admit that the power wasn't coming back on in time to salvage our meal, so we got in the car and agreed to stop at the first restaurant that was open and had power.  Lo and behold, the Outback Steakhouse sign illuminated the darkened sky!

And so, every year since, we've made it a tradition to have our Christmas Eve meal at Outback Steakhouse.  The kids have even gotten into the tradition, and they make us tell the story each year as we nosh on cheese fries and that wonderful, warm bread that soothed our bellies fifteen years ago.

Some holiday traditions come out of culture or even family backgrounds.  But often the most meaningful traditions are the ones we make for ourselves.  They remind us where we've been and help us keep perspective at a time of year when it is easy to lose.  Perhaps our meal at Outback Steakhouse doesn't seem as significant as lighting candles, singing traditional songs, or visiting family, but it certainly brings us together (except when we're fighting over the last cheese fry).

Slow Down, Lady

I am a person who goes one hundred miles an hour at all times.  Seriously, ask my students.  I decided early in my teaching career that if students didn't have time to get distracted, they wouldn't be a problem.  It's worked for me for fifteen years.  Additionally, I am passionate about that to which I dedicate myself.  Thus I get really, really excited...about teaching, about conversing, about puzzles, about baking, about music, about--well--everything. 

So I've lived my life at a rapid pace for some time now.  I get up each morning, get ready, dress my son, shoo my daughter downstairs, make breakfast for my son and self, throw together snacks for my day, get my son's teeth brushed, and drive my daughter to school (hubby handles our son--praise!).  At work, I get everything together for the day, perhaps run morning car line, teach classes, meet with students during "planning periods" about college essays or help with class, sit in club meetings at lunch, and then meet with students or fellow teachers after school.  I pick up my daughter, go to the gym (if there's time--there usually isn't), come home, cook dinner, get my son in the bath, dress him, read to him, check on my daughter's homework, get a shower myself, pick out clothes for tomorrow, and get in bed with a book.

This is a normal day for me, but I've come to realize it isn't normal.

I'm an over-committer.  And this pneumonia has been a swift kick in the rear, a reminder that I need to take care of myself.  Caring for myself isn't being selfish; it's being respectful of the gift of my body, my mind, and my emotions. 

I imagine a lot of you are over-committers, like me.  The real problem is that I genuinely want to do all of the things I've over-committed myself to doing.  None of it is a chore to me.  There's nothing I'd easily cut out.

And yet, I am certain that's what I'm being called to do.  To sand down the business of my life and leave time for myself.

Did you notice what was missing from my "daily routine"?  Writing.  And yet, as I've written here before, I am, at my core, a writer.  And in denying myself the time to write, I'm denying a bit of who I truly am.

In the past few days, as I've languished on the couch, unable to focus on writing and unable to do any work, I've watched amazing movies: Black Panther and Call Me By Your Name, read two books, and watched two Trevor Noah comedy specials, the pilot of The Man in the High Castle and the pilot of Victoria.  I love movies, and it's crazy to me that I'm just seeing these two.  I love reading, and yet I still need to read ten books to meet this year's goal.  I love escaping into comedy and into period dramas, and yet I don't take time for that either.  Amazingly, though I haven't felt like "myself", my high-speed, go-get-em self, for the last week, in some ways, I've felt more like myself.

My anxiety has decreased amazingly.  Granted, my chest still hurts, but it's not from anxiety.  I've cancelled almost everything on my calendar for the next two weeks, excepting church services, which feed my soul, and, of course, Hamilton.  And I'm finding that I'm okay with that.  I learned to own my "no" a long time ago, but being able to wield a "no" and knowing that you have to are two different things.  I'm grateful to be learning that now.

All of this is to say, that I encourage each one of you to take a look at your life right now.  Take inventory.  Write down your typical day and decide which parts of it are for the benefit of YOU--your physical, mental, and emotional health.  If you don't see it there, then I ask you to honor yourself and make some time.  Say "no", not because you want to, but because you need to.  And in so doing, you will say "yes" to yourself.