Last night was a quiet night at work, the holidays no doubt consuming most people. It was one of those nights where I wanted to be off somewhere on my own as I was in a powerful writing mood. The thoughts that drifted through me were ones difficult to put to paper, especially in the presence of others.
As this holiday approaches, I find myself becoming increasingly inward and the need to embrace what I am feeling is very strong. This is clashing of course with the normal holiday “let’s get everything nice for everyone else ” feeling, and oddly the solitary need is winning. This year I find myself the least prepared, few decorations up, nothing purchased and nothing baked and put away. Surprisingly I don’t care. I will get the bare minimum that I need to buy so that my son gets the things he wants. I will make some Christmas treats this week and no doubt the trees will go up.
This is the first Christmas I can remember feeling this way but it is the second Christmas since I awakened to another side of me. The shift that has taken place is large even though it was done in small subtle ways. The person who I am becoming is quickly replacing the last remnants of the person I have been. It’s a real “me” time right now and I feel a bit guilty about it. I realized I had forgotten a pass it forward write on a blog, I had forgotten a secret Santa event on another blog and when I read another blog about “blogging with obligation” I found myself strongly at odds with the words. There are so many obligations in this life I refuse to let my blog become one of them. Writing for me is something that feeds my soul and when it becomes an obligation, unless of course it pays money, I will stop.
Truly I know I need to get away by myself, wander a bit and let this person who is pounding her way out find a way. It will not happen now, as I have an “obligation” to those who surround me. The holidays are not lost on me, I enjoy them. What I need is a nice fire, the wonderful scent of a pine bough, music, a glass of wine and the shimmer of the few lights I have managed to wrap on the deck.
I struggled with those feelings last night and continue to do so today, needing to pour them out on a page. As I look over my words here I realize they are scattered at best and I wonder if anyone will understand what it is I am trying to say. During the night hours I pulled up some wallpaper on my pc. As I sat looking at the solitary candle amidst the pine, it seemed to look back at me, echoing the words that failed to find their way to the page.