Finally, it's that time of year.
The one weekend in which I have NOTHING
to do. No shopping, no decorating, no cleaning, no laundry.
Okay, there may be some laundry.
The weekend between Christmas and New
Years. The one weekend every year when I can kick back, eat chocolate
Santas while watching the Complete DVD box set of whatever 1980's
hit television show I didn't watch during it's original prime time
run but still somehow managed to incorporate all the tag lines into
my everyday conversation. (This year it is Twin Peaks. Which, from
the two episodes I have watched so far may be more fairly described
as not so much of a 'hit' as a 'constant state of schizophrenia'.
Which is probably why I can completely relate.)
No concerns about working out or eating
right or doing taxes – the New Year is still days away.
It is also the time of year when
everyone from the lady at the grocery store to the dude in the bow-tie
who hosts CBS Sunday Morning looks back over the previous year.
I catch myself reminiscing as well. It
is probably all that hot chocolate, free time and enormous 1980's eye-wear. (Have I ever mentioned that during most of the 1980's I
dressed exactly like Maggie O'connell from Northern Exposure? And a
little like the Log Lady from Twin Peaks.) Okay. Enough with the
reminiscing.
This is the weekend to play with the
new Christmas goodies – like my Mini-Bonsai tree:
This is really more of an exercise in faith rather than tiny tree gardening. |
I know. Not much of a tree yet. But
after 7 days of 'cold stratifying' they are suppose to burst forth in
a zen display of tiny, well manicured branches.
And my new bird feeder:
Behold the rare MidWestern Squirreltle Dove The Squirreltle Dove is flightless yet still manages to take shelter in the smallest of feeding alcoves. |
It is also the weekend to play with the
writing journal my daughter gave me. It is full of inspirational
quotes and writing prompts such as:
What does regret taste
like?
And I
have an answer:
Regret
tastes like that piece of chocolate you really, really wanted. The
one shaped in the international symbol for caramel. No need to
consult the chocolate index on the bottom of the box. No one would
dare to make another, lesser chocolate in the legal, copyrighted,
trademarked caramel square...but instead, you bite in and the
chocolate is waxy and the filling, while initially chewy turns more
and more into jelly with weird crunchy bits. In your brain, you can
taste the rich creamy caramel but in your mouth the only thing
sticking to your teeth are those unidentifiable, slightly raspberry
tasting bits. You want to throw the remainder of the offending candy
away but that would be wasteful. Wrong. So you own the
lesson chocolate. Not so much savoring as reliving the impulse which
brought you to this place. Even after brushing your teeth, the taste
of the imposter lingers, as do the calories, now wasted.
The
question got me to thinking about regret. I actually have very few.
The biggest one – which involved a poorly canceled engagement –
was, with the help of time, maturity and the amazing stalker-ing
abilities afforded by Facebook – rectified. The others really fall
more under the category of 'things I wish I had done'.
Such as 'I wish I had gone to Jamaica for my co-worker's
wedding ' and 'I wish
I hadn't let these extra pounds creep up on me' and
'if only we had snuck into that stranger's wedding
photo'....
Because
honestly, if I were to change the more major decisions I have and
haven't made – such as a different career path or a different house
choice or even better financial decisions – I would not be where I
am today. And what's the point of wasting a bunch of energy on
regretting things that may or may not have brought me to such a
wonderful place?
So, as
this glorious weekend of nothingness draws to a close. As we prepare
to celebrate the ending of 2013 and the beginning of 2014, I leave
you with this:
Live
your lives with conviction and determination. Find happiness in the
day-to-day. Even if, once in a while, it means getting stuck with a
weird jelly candy instead of an amazing caramel.
And if
you're a little afraid, just do what I do and stick your finger in
the bottom of that decision. If it turns out to be a lesser nougat or
maple weirdness just stick it back in the box and move on.
Because
life doesn't come with a chocolate index printed on the bottom and
face it, life is too short to waste those calories.
(Please
note, I wrote that little exercise after a HUGE Christmas dinner
which had followed a HUGE Christmas breakfast which had followed a
HUGE Christmas Eve dinner. I had no business breaking into a box of
chocolates and in the less stuffed light of day, the chocolates –
which were a gift from my sister-in-law – are quite delicious. In
no way did I mean to step on Forest Gump's toes with that little box
of chocolates analogy. I mean, you can see the flaw in his logic. No
one ever eats a chocolate out of the box without first consulting the
chocolate directory that finer candy companies place on the bottom of
the box or at the very least, poking the bottom of the candy to test
it out.)
So
from the Coast of Illinois:
Happy Poking!
And
Happy 2014!