There is something about November that gets me all edgy. The end of the year is nigh, but there is Christmas and New Year’s to come. Both huge celebrations, but also a lot of work, and it can sometimes be somewhat taxing on my (let’s admit tenuous) grip on my sanity.
I can feel it coming on already, the diary is filling up with end of year wind-ups, catch-ups and nosh-ups. I am already putting dates in the diary for next year. I am in danger at this time of the year of always living in the future, of not enjoying the moment, and of not really being present.
I think the key for me is to prepare, my heart, my family and my home, for the season to come. Practically, that means getting presents when I think of them; decorating now, so I am continually surrounded by reminders of the season I am in; and celebrating the advent traditions of my Anglican childhood.
It means having a to-do list for each day, and letting tomorrow take care of itself. It means finding ways to help my girls celebrate Christmas; exclaiming with them over the Christmas decorations; involving them in the shopping, choosing and wrapping; and of course telling the Christmas story.
So this weekend, although it’s not yet the first of December I am putting up the tree and the decorations, because my heart needs to prepare in order for me to help theirs.