When my children were young and spring came, I started pulling everything out of my children’s closets and dressers. Piles everywhere. Would anything still fit for summer? I sure hoped so.
Thus my seasonal sorting began. Which things were acceptable and which things were too small? What should I keep for another younger sibling and what clothing should I either pass down to another child or box to sell at a garage sell.
It took some serious time to get through all the clothes of three children. Mostly what I discovered was that either they had grown more than I thought, or I had seriously shrunk all their clothing. Pants were too short. Shoes were too small. Dresses were too short. The piles of things we pulled out of the closet were much larger than what we put back. Then I was faced with the reality of what we needed to buy to replace so many outgrown items. I wondered how we could afford it all.
When autumn came, the process began all over again. And so this sorting continued year after year until my children left the nest.
Even though that particular variety of sorting ceased, I’m still forever sorting something: cupboards, closets, files, stacks of papers, books, recipes, and photos. What to keep? What to give away? What to discard? What still has usefulness to me—or maybe someone else? What is just clutter? Oh, and my office! I try, but every time I start working on writing submissions and other projects, things seem to explode. Then I have to sort, organize, and discard all over again.
I wonder if my now grown children will one day feel overwhelmed when they have to sort through all the stuff that I leave behind upon my passing. Then I determine to sift and sort some more things. This is often followed with at least one more box going out the door to a local charity.
But the truth be told, it’s not only tangible possessions that I sort. My mind and heart does an unending sorting as I attempt to un-clutter my thoughts.
I wade through a barrage of information and opinions on hundreds of topics coming at me from every direction. What do I accept and what do I discard?
I weigh priorities and perspective. I decide what is important over and over again.
I consider options and try to make wise decisions.
I examine problems and look for solutions.
I sort out relationships. What’s going on with so and so? Is she under stress or has she pulled away for some reason. Do I let it slide for now or should I address it. What can I do to make the relationship better between me and whomever?
I sift through both old memories and hopes and dreams for the future.
I ponder over my questions. My doubts and confusion.
I look at my worries and fears, releasing them once again to God.
I need solitude for periodic internal sorting. That is what I like about walking time—prayer time—gardening time. Uninterrupted moments where I listen to my heart. I listen for God.
Save and discard. Save and discard. Save and discard. It’s time-consuming, but it is part of life. The tangible, the intangible. The external, the internal. Deciding what to keep and what to toss aside. I pray for wisdom as I sort my way through life.
(c) 2010 Marlene Depler
Showing posts with label perspective. Show all posts
Showing posts with label perspective. Show all posts
Monday, August 23, 2010
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Start Somewhere
(Note: I promised to share what I came up with from the writing exercise, so here you have it?)
I’d been sick for several days, and we were expecting out-of-town company in a couple of days. I was now way behind in my preparations and cleaning. Not to mention, that I was lacking in energy and short of time. There was so much I had intended to do before my friends arrived. Now I felt overwhelmed.
These weren’t the kind of friends who would judge me for a bit of clutter and dust. We’ve been friends for over three decades. Nevertheless, I wanted my home to be clean and welcoming. The tasks that I wanted to accomplish would make me feel like a better hostess.
I started to fret. Then I had a chat with myself. Stop wasting your energy fretting and just START SOMEWHERE! (Am I the only one who gives advice to myself?!)
So that is what I did. I started with the guest bedroom, dusting and tidying. Then I moved into the bathroom next to the bedroom. When those two rooms were company-ready, my spirits lifted and my perspective improved. I was able to prioritize other tasks and decide what mattered most. Before I knew my home was adequately prepared. Our friends arrived, and we shared several wonderful days.
Since then I have continued to think about the experience and apply it to other areas of my life—projects or chores that needed to be tackled and other areas such as health and personal goals. Instead of waiting until I have huge increments of time—that of course rarely ever happens, I remind myself, “Start somewhere.” If I begin and make a little progress, it gives me the impetus to continue later when I have a little more time.
Whether it is the weeds in my garden beds, the paperwork on my desk, or dirty windows, the process is the same. “Get started.” I started washing windows when I was preparing for my guests. I washed a couple of windows that were really bothering me. Later I washed a couple more. Bit by bit I’m making the rounds. Today I washed another three. Completion now seems possible. The end is now in sight.
The same is true with writing. I’ve intended to write about this experience for over a month. I finally said, “Just start!” Writing for about 20 minutes led to more thinking and more writing. Now I have a string of words on paper.
Most of us have heard it said, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” So true. Without beginning, nothing will be accomplished, and we will not reach the desired destination.
So first we start. Then we break things into smaller increments and things begin to seem possible. When my kids were younger and overwhelmed by something that loomed large for them like a school project, I would often tell them, “It’s a cinch by the inch and hard by the yard.”
I don’t recall where I first heard that saying, but I liked it and knew it was applicable to challenges both large and small. I wanted to help them see the value in starting and then breaking things down in to smaller manageable segments. Then when they put those segments together in succession, they ended up getting to the final goal. The same is true for the rest of us.
I have noticed that some things never seem to get completely finished, like the piles of paper on my office desk. Nevertheless, I keep starting. I make good headway. Then life calls me in other directions and things pile up again, so I begin again—and then again. Can you imagine how my office would look if I didn’t keep starting over and over again.
We will probably never have everything accomplished to our satisfaction in this journey of life. We will always have projects demanding our time and a variety of challenges to face. Yet if we constantly take the first step and begin again and again, we will move forward toward those things we deem important. And we won’t waste our energy thinking about what we must do.
What is it that looms large for you? What is it that you never seem to find the time to tackle?
I’d been sick for several days, and we were expecting out-of-town company in a couple of days. I was now way behind in my preparations and cleaning. Not to mention, that I was lacking in energy and short of time. There was so much I had intended to do before my friends arrived. Now I felt overwhelmed.
These weren’t the kind of friends who would judge me for a bit of clutter and dust. We’ve been friends for over three decades. Nevertheless, I wanted my home to be clean and welcoming. The tasks that I wanted to accomplish would make me feel like a better hostess.
I started to fret. Then I had a chat with myself. Stop wasting your energy fretting and just START SOMEWHERE! (Am I the only one who gives advice to myself?!)
So that is what I did. I started with the guest bedroom, dusting and tidying. Then I moved into the bathroom next to the bedroom. When those two rooms were company-ready, my spirits lifted and my perspective improved. I was able to prioritize other tasks and decide what mattered most. Before I knew my home was adequately prepared. Our friends arrived, and we shared several wonderful days.
Since then I have continued to think about the experience and apply it to other areas of my life—projects or chores that needed to be tackled and other areas such as health and personal goals. Instead of waiting until I have huge increments of time—that of course rarely ever happens, I remind myself, “Start somewhere.” If I begin and make a little progress, it gives me the impetus to continue later when I have a little more time.
Whether it is the weeds in my garden beds, the paperwork on my desk, or dirty windows, the process is the same. “Get started.” I started washing windows when I was preparing for my guests. I washed a couple of windows that were really bothering me. Later I washed a couple more. Bit by bit I’m making the rounds. Today I washed another three. Completion now seems possible. The end is now in sight.
The same is true with writing. I’ve intended to write about this experience for over a month. I finally said, “Just start!” Writing for about 20 minutes led to more thinking and more writing. Now I have a string of words on paper.
Most of us have heard it said, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” So true. Without beginning, nothing will be accomplished, and we will not reach the desired destination.
So first we start. Then we break things into smaller increments and things begin to seem possible. When my kids were younger and overwhelmed by something that loomed large for them like a school project, I would often tell them, “It’s a cinch by the inch and hard by the yard.”
I don’t recall where I first heard that saying, but I liked it and knew it was applicable to challenges both large and small. I wanted to help them see the value in starting and then breaking things down in to smaller manageable segments. Then when they put those segments together in succession, they ended up getting to the final goal. The same is true for the rest of us.
I have noticed that some things never seem to get completely finished, like the piles of paper on my office desk. Nevertheless, I keep starting. I make good headway. Then life calls me in other directions and things pile up again, so I begin again—and then again. Can you imagine how my office would look if I didn’t keep starting over and over again.
We will probably never have everything accomplished to our satisfaction in this journey of life. We will always have projects demanding our time and a variety of challenges to face. Yet if we constantly take the first step and begin again and again, we will move forward toward those things we deem important. And we won’t waste our energy thinking about what we must do.
What is it that looms large for you? What is it that you never seem to find the time to tackle?
*A college degree? It is possible one class at a time. So get started.
*Weight loss? That comes one pound at a time, but you first have to start.
*A relational issue? Start somewhere.
*Spiritual growth? Begin with one thing that seems doable.
*Health? Take a step in the right direction.
*Ironing? Turn on the iron and pick up the first piece.
Our personalities may be different and our challenges and dreams may not be the same. Yet we are still all on a similar journey. And we all need to regularly be reminded to START SOMEWHERE. So that means you---and me! Let's get going!
(c) 2009 Marlene Depler
Obtain permission to print, reprint, or duplicate in any form.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
"Life is good."
By Marlene Depler
Hats, shirts, tote bags, and more. Various sizes and colors. All with the words “Life is good.” printed on them. While recently on vacation, I noticed the aforementioned merchandise in a variety of shops. Then when I returned home and went by the post office to pick up the mail, I spotted a black spare tire cover with white letters saying the same thing. I began to ponder these words. I asked myself, Is life good?
Listen to the nightly news on any given day. We hear about rape, murder, suicide, identity theft, lay-offs, wars, and every imaginable tragedy. No one would call these things good.
Even when I look at my own life or the lives of friends and family members, everything is far from peachy. Sickness and surgery. Divorce and death of loved ones. Financial challenges and relational struggles. Everyone has his or her own myriad of difficulties and heartaches strewn among life’s joys and blessings. So can we say unequivocally that life is good?
What occurred to me is that the answer depends on the word we choose to emphasize. If we say, Life is GOOD. Most of us would disagree because experience tells us otherwise. But if we say, LIFE is good, then the answer for me would be absolutely yes. After God first created man and woman, he looked at everything he had made and “...it was very good.” Life is a wonderful miracle, a gift from God—something to be cherished.
I can’t presume to know the intent of the marketing department that manufactures this product line. Where would they put the emphasis? On life or on good? As for me, I’ve decided the even though life may not always be GOOD, LIFE is still very good. LIFE itself is indeed good even when everything in my world isn’t perfect.
I will remember to love my life even when every aspect isn't good. LIFE is good.
(c) Marlene Depler
Permission must be granted by author to publish or reprint in any form.
Hats, shirts, tote bags, and more. Various sizes and colors. All with the words “Life is good.” printed on them. While recently on vacation, I noticed the aforementioned merchandise in a variety of shops. Then when I returned home and went by the post office to pick up the mail, I spotted a black spare tire cover with white letters saying the same thing. I began to ponder these words. I asked myself, Is life good?
Listen to the nightly news on any given day. We hear about rape, murder, suicide, identity theft, lay-offs, wars, and every imaginable tragedy. No one would call these things good.
Even when I look at my own life or the lives of friends and family members, everything is far from peachy. Sickness and surgery. Divorce and death of loved ones. Financial challenges and relational struggles. Everyone has his or her own myriad of difficulties and heartaches strewn among life’s joys and blessings. So can we say unequivocally that life is good?
What occurred to me is that the answer depends on the word we choose to emphasize. If we say, Life is GOOD. Most of us would disagree because experience tells us otherwise. But if we say, LIFE is good, then the answer for me would be absolutely yes. After God first created man and woman, he looked at everything he had made and “...it was very good.” Life is a wonderful miracle, a gift from God—something to be cherished.
I can’t presume to know the intent of the marketing department that manufactures this product line. Where would they put the emphasis? On life or on good? As for me, I’ve decided the even though life may not always be GOOD, LIFE is still very good. LIFE itself is indeed good even when everything in my world isn’t perfect.
I will remember to love my life even when every aspect isn't good. LIFE is good.
(c) Marlene Depler
Permission must be granted by author to publish or reprint in any form.
Friday, December 21, 2007
What Do You Want for Christmas?
By Marlene Depler
“What do you want for Christmas?”
As Christmas approaches each year, this is a common question in our family. Sometimes we have great ideas of what other family members would enjoy, but when we don’t know, we simply ask each other. We want the recipients of our gifts to find delight in what we wrap and place under the tree.
It occurred to me the other day that perhaps I should also ask Jesus what he wants for Christmas. After all, it’s his birthday celebration! So I began to ponder the question, “What would the Messiah want as a gift from me this Christmas?”
The only recorded gifts given to Jesus in the Bible were brought by the Magi. Matthew 2: 11, says, Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts and gold and of incense and of myrrh. I seriously doubt that he wants me the same gifts from me as the wise men of old. So what kind of gifts does the King of Kings wish for this year? It seems the gifts he most desires cannot be wrapped and placed under my Christmas tree.
Companionship: Jesus desires my companionship, which is sustained by time in His presence for honest communication.
Compassionate heart: Jesus desires a compassionate heart that will propel me to reach out in my words and actions to those around me in His name.
Commitment: Jesus desires my commitment to the process of rebirth and renewal—and to the long walk of faith.
Courage: Jesus desires for me to have the courage to obey—to take risks when necessary—and to stand for what is true.
Confidence: Jesus desires for me to have a quiet confidence in Him, knowing that he will keep his promises—and that he will continually be my strength and my refuge.
Calm spirit: Jesus desires for my spirit to be calm—for me to give up my hurried pace and rest in Him.
Contentment: Jesus desires for me to be content with who He has made me to be—where I currently am—what I have.
To my amazement, I realize that it is I who am truly blessed as I begin to offer my gifts to the Christ-child.
(c) 2007 Marlene Depler (To reprint in any form permission must be granted my author)
“What do you want for Christmas?”
As Christmas approaches each year, this is a common question in our family. Sometimes we have great ideas of what other family members would enjoy, but when we don’t know, we simply ask each other. We want the recipients of our gifts to find delight in what we wrap and place under the tree.
It occurred to me the other day that perhaps I should also ask Jesus what he wants for Christmas. After all, it’s his birthday celebration! So I began to ponder the question, “What would the Messiah want as a gift from me this Christmas?”
The only recorded gifts given to Jesus in the Bible were brought by the Magi. Matthew 2: 11, says, Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts and gold and of incense and of myrrh. I seriously doubt that he wants me the same gifts from me as the wise men of old. So what kind of gifts does the King of Kings wish for this year? It seems the gifts he most desires cannot be wrapped and placed under my Christmas tree.
Companionship: Jesus desires my companionship, which is sustained by time in His presence for honest communication.
Compassionate heart: Jesus desires a compassionate heart that will propel me to reach out in my words and actions to those around me in His name.
Commitment: Jesus desires my commitment to the process of rebirth and renewal—and to the long walk of faith.
Courage: Jesus desires for me to have the courage to obey—to take risks when necessary—and to stand for what is true.
Confidence: Jesus desires for me to have a quiet confidence in Him, knowing that he will keep his promises—and that he will continually be my strength and my refuge.
Calm spirit: Jesus desires for my spirit to be calm—for me to give up my hurried pace and rest in Him.
Contentment: Jesus desires for me to be content with who He has made me to be—where I currently am—what I have.
To my amazement, I realize that it is I who am truly blessed as I begin to offer my gifts to the Christ-child.
(c) 2007 Marlene Depler (To reprint in any form permission must be granted my author)
Friday, December 07, 2007
Running Away to Find Christmas
By Marlene Depler
It was barely fall, and I already dreaded the upcoming holidays. It was difficult for me to admit my true feelings of frustration and resentment. I wondered, Am I the only one who feels this way. Isn't Christmas supposed to be the season of great joy and festivity? Then why don't I welcome the season?
For nearly two decades, I assumed that it was my responsibility to give everyone around me a delightful and memorable Christmas. I worked for weeks cleaning, shopping, wrapping, decorating, mailing cards and letters, planning menus, and baking. I baked for school parties, for church activities, and for home. I decorated dozens and dozens of sugar cookies, as well as baking several other kinds of cookies, candies, breads, and muffins to freeze. Our family regularly entertained extended family from out-of town. My multitude of shoulds made for very lengthy to-do lists. I went into my Superwoman mode until everything was done, and I was exhausted, irritable, and even resentful.
One year in the midst of my all-out efforts, my youngest daughter Lisa said to me, "Mom, why don't you just get in the Christmas spirit?"
I wanted to give an angry retort, but I held back harsh words and cried instead. Why did Christmas have to be this stressful and hectic?
With that memory still piercing my heart, this year I longed to break free from all the cumbersome expectations and excessive responsibilities that had for years left me disappointed and depressed when Christmas was over. I wanted to give my children a happy mom! What could I do differently to set myself free from my holiday bondage?
Then I had an idea! We could leave town—go away for Christmas! If I was not home, I reasoned, then I would not have to entertain anyone, nor would I be expected to do many of the holiday tasks. Initially, I felt both excited and relieved at this possibility. Yet I also had twinges of guilt and fear. I knew this wouldn't be an easy task for a world-class people-pleaser like me. What would my husband and children think? Would my extended family be upset?
I shared my frustrations with my husband and hesitantly suggested that we spend Christmas in Estes Park, Colorado, with just our children. Much to my surprise, he heartily approved of the idea.
"I think that's a great idea. Let's drive up to Estes sometime in the next few weeks and see what accommodations might be available," he suggested.
Later that fall, we drove up to Estes Park and found a vacation home that was available over Christmas. It was high on the side of a mountain with a spectacular view. After the arrangements were made, we proceeded to tell our three teenagers about our plan. At first, they were surprised, and perhaps, even somewhat bewildered.
After a few minutes of adapting to the idea, our son Drew, the oldest, said, "Sure! Let's do it! It should be fun!" Our two daughters, Paula and Lisa, appeared to like the idea as well. Now all I had to do was tell everyone else that we would not be home for Christmas.
I began to actually anticipate the coming of the holidays. It was like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I still baked our favorite cranberry-cream cheese bread and a small batch of frosted sugar cookies. We decorated our Christmas tree even though we knew we wouldn't be home. I purchased gifts for my family and wrapped them with care. We listened to Christmas carols throughout the season. I made my choices and commitments with care.But I didn't do the endless list of things that I had done in years past.
On the afternoon of Christmas Eve, we packed our bags, gifts, games, movies, music, and food for simple meals into our Explorer, along with our five bodies, and headed for the mountains. When we got to the rental, we were surprised. Someone had put up a Christmas tree! What an unexpected bonus! It was simply decorated with red bulbs and white lights, and it sat in front of the large picture window that framed majestic, snow-covered mountain peaks.
We unpacked our bags and put our gifts under the tree. That evening, Ray built a fire in the stone fireplace. We gathered around its light and warmth to sing carols about the birth of our Savior and open our gifts. We stayed up late to watch Fiddler on the Roof. That night when I put my head on the pillow, I felt content and peaceful. This was exactly what I needed.
On Christmas day, we had pancakes for breakfast. Then we played games, snacked on Christmas goodies, and listened to music. We took turns exclaiming over the view from the window—blue sky and snow swirling in the wind between the peaks. I stayed in my robe until almost noon.
After our mid-day meal, we drove up into Rocky Mountain National Park. The park had long since been vacated by the hordes of summer tourists. A quiet solitude enveloped the mountains and valleys now covered with pristine glistening snow. What a glorious sight it was.
The next day as we drove home from our getaway, I felt refreshed and content. The whole family had enjoyed themselves. I was grateful that I had had the courage to try something new—even though it was difficult for me to break free from my self-imposed rut. Somehow I sensed that this was only the beginning. Holidays would never be the same again.
Looking back, I see that this Christmas was a significant turning point for me. After our Christmas away, I began to examine my perfectionism and my unrealistic expectations.
I learned that I didn’t have to meet every expectation that others might have for me. Yes, I could survive without having the approval of everyone. I even learned that little two-letter word that is so difficult to say—no. I also learned to delegate more and to ask for help. I began to embrace the things that were truly important to me, letting go of things that were unimportant. Most of all I learned that my happiness did not hinge on having the "perfect" holiday. After all, Christmas is only one day out of 365.
In the years that followed, I have had many opportunities to help other women who struggled with the same issues. Jan no longer buys Christmas gifts on credit. Kathy no longer sends Christmas cards. Instead, she telephones those who are near and dear to her. Sharon told me recently that her past Christmas was the best, most relaxed she has ever had. She no longer rigidly schedules the family "fun." And my eyes still fill with tears when I think of helping a friend, who was dying from cancer, find the strength to observe her last Christmas in a way that was meaningful to her.
Running away for Christmas seemed to be a radical decision at them time, but it has paid big dividends since. Now that my children are all grown, they look back on the Christmas at Estes Park as one of their favorites. Paula said not long ago, "Mom, let's all go to Estes Park for Christmas again! It was such fun!" Perhaps we will.
Christmas will soon be here again. I must once again resolve to observe the holidays in a way that is meaningful to me. No more vain attempts to have a Norman Rockwell or Martha Stewart Christmas. I will continue to release my unreasonable expectations. My desire is to focus on a humble birth and enjoy my family. I know full well that my greatest gifts will never be found under the Christmas tree.
NOTE: The names of women were changed.
(c) Marlene Depler Permission must be granted to reprint in any form.
It was barely fall, and I already dreaded the upcoming holidays. It was difficult for me to admit my true feelings of frustration and resentment. I wondered, Am I the only one who feels this way. Isn't Christmas supposed to be the season of great joy and festivity? Then why don't I welcome the season?
For nearly two decades, I assumed that it was my responsibility to give everyone around me a delightful and memorable Christmas. I worked for weeks cleaning, shopping, wrapping, decorating, mailing cards and letters, planning menus, and baking. I baked for school parties, for church activities, and for home. I decorated dozens and dozens of sugar cookies, as well as baking several other kinds of cookies, candies, breads, and muffins to freeze. Our family regularly entertained extended family from out-of town. My multitude of shoulds made for very lengthy to-do lists. I went into my Superwoman mode until everything was done, and I was exhausted, irritable, and even resentful.
One year in the midst of my all-out efforts, my youngest daughter Lisa said to me, "Mom, why don't you just get in the Christmas spirit?"
I wanted to give an angry retort, but I held back harsh words and cried instead. Why did Christmas have to be this stressful and hectic?
With that memory still piercing my heart, this year I longed to break free from all the cumbersome expectations and excessive responsibilities that had for years left me disappointed and depressed when Christmas was over. I wanted to give my children a happy mom! What could I do differently to set myself free from my holiday bondage?
Then I had an idea! We could leave town—go away for Christmas! If I was not home, I reasoned, then I would not have to entertain anyone, nor would I be expected to do many of the holiday tasks. Initially, I felt both excited and relieved at this possibility. Yet I also had twinges of guilt and fear. I knew this wouldn't be an easy task for a world-class people-pleaser like me. What would my husband and children think? Would my extended family be upset?
I shared my frustrations with my husband and hesitantly suggested that we spend Christmas in Estes Park, Colorado, with just our children. Much to my surprise, he heartily approved of the idea.
"I think that's a great idea. Let's drive up to Estes sometime in the next few weeks and see what accommodations might be available," he suggested.
Later that fall, we drove up to Estes Park and found a vacation home that was available over Christmas. It was high on the side of a mountain with a spectacular view. After the arrangements were made, we proceeded to tell our three teenagers about our plan. At first, they were surprised, and perhaps, even somewhat bewildered.
After a few minutes of adapting to the idea, our son Drew, the oldest, said, "Sure! Let's do it! It should be fun!" Our two daughters, Paula and Lisa, appeared to like the idea as well. Now all I had to do was tell everyone else that we would not be home for Christmas.
I began to actually anticipate the coming of the holidays. It was like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I still baked our favorite cranberry-cream cheese bread and a small batch of frosted sugar cookies. We decorated our Christmas tree even though we knew we wouldn't be home. I purchased gifts for my family and wrapped them with care. We listened to Christmas carols throughout the season. I made my choices and commitments with care.But I didn't do the endless list of things that I had done in years past.
On the afternoon of Christmas Eve, we packed our bags, gifts, games, movies, music, and food for simple meals into our Explorer, along with our five bodies, and headed for the mountains. When we got to the rental, we were surprised. Someone had put up a Christmas tree! What an unexpected bonus! It was simply decorated with red bulbs and white lights, and it sat in front of the large picture window that framed majestic, snow-covered mountain peaks.
We unpacked our bags and put our gifts under the tree. That evening, Ray built a fire in the stone fireplace. We gathered around its light and warmth to sing carols about the birth of our Savior and open our gifts. We stayed up late to watch Fiddler on the Roof. That night when I put my head on the pillow, I felt content and peaceful. This was exactly what I needed.
On Christmas day, we had pancakes for breakfast. Then we played games, snacked on Christmas goodies, and listened to music. We took turns exclaiming over the view from the window—blue sky and snow swirling in the wind between the peaks. I stayed in my robe until almost noon.
After our mid-day meal, we drove up into Rocky Mountain National Park. The park had long since been vacated by the hordes of summer tourists. A quiet solitude enveloped the mountains and valleys now covered with pristine glistening snow. What a glorious sight it was.
The next day as we drove home from our getaway, I felt refreshed and content. The whole family had enjoyed themselves. I was grateful that I had had the courage to try something new—even though it was difficult for me to break free from my self-imposed rut. Somehow I sensed that this was only the beginning. Holidays would never be the same again.
Looking back, I see that this Christmas was a significant turning point for me. After our Christmas away, I began to examine my perfectionism and my unrealistic expectations.
I learned that I didn’t have to meet every expectation that others might have for me. Yes, I could survive without having the approval of everyone. I even learned that little two-letter word that is so difficult to say—no. I also learned to delegate more and to ask for help. I began to embrace the things that were truly important to me, letting go of things that were unimportant. Most of all I learned that my happiness did not hinge on having the "perfect" holiday. After all, Christmas is only one day out of 365.
In the years that followed, I have had many opportunities to help other women who struggled with the same issues. Jan no longer buys Christmas gifts on credit. Kathy no longer sends Christmas cards. Instead, she telephones those who are near and dear to her. Sharon told me recently that her past Christmas was the best, most relaxed she has ever had. She no longer rigidly schedules the family "fun." And my eyes still fill with tears when I think of helping a friend, who was dying from cancer, find the strength to observe her last Christmas in a way that was meaningful to her.
Running away for Christmas seemed to be a radical decision at them time, but it has paid big dividends since. Now that my children are all grown, they look back on the Christmas at Estes Park as one of their favorites. Paula said not long ago, "Mom, let's all go to Estes Park for Christmas again! It was such fun!" Perhaps we will.
Christmas will soon be here again. I must once again resolve to observe the holidays in a way that is meaningful to me. No more vain attempts to have a Norman Rockwell or Martha Stewart Christmas. I will continue to release my unreasonable expectations. My desire is to focus on a humble birth and enjoy my family. I know full well that my greatest gifts will never be found under the Christmas tree.
NOTE: The names of women were changed.
(c) Marlene Depler Permission must be granted to reprint in any form.
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