Christmas procrastination

candy cane cookies, up close.

Image by chotda via Flickr

Christmas decorations have been up this year since before Halloween.  I feel sorry for the retailers.  After all, we are all in this together.  But I also find a strong resistance inside to start on the holidays just yet.

As I often do when I resist, I discover I am procrastinating.  Today it came in the form of metacognition, just watching the thoughts as they passed through my brain. 

Here is a bird’s eye view of what was going on in there:

I cleaned my office the other night because I had a new file cabinet. I stuffed all the piles of paper into the cabinet. I straightened the books and hid the extras away, double rowed, in a linen cabinet that no longer held linens. My office is clean. I still cannot find anything. Maybe I never intended to.

 I am collecting new ideas–colors, textures, foods, thoughts. I put them in a binder. I do not alphabetize them. I do not number the pages. I do not put in colorful tabbed organizers. I resist organization.

 I watch what I do in order to see how I contribute to that which bothers me in life.

I wonder about our relationship to prison. How we self-create it. How it may change us. Martha Stewart was prison. Mandala was in prison. Life can be a prison. How do we discover the key? How do we change?

Resolutions are valueless until the internal precedes the external. Start with what is inside in order to change what is outside.

I have watch two hummingbirds battle over a backyard feeder for months. The feeder always refills with enough nectar to feed both of them, yet they still do this.

I make an elaborate table of calendar dates with exercises to match: walking, bike riding, hiking, yoga, weights. I put stars on the table to mark activities completed. My chart has one star.

I observe with interest my human condition. The ceaseless quest for the ultimate that does not exist. For perfection, that once achieved, would satisfy only for an instant. Even Paradise, I suspect, would not be enough, but only a way station in the journey. I am magnetically pulled along, like a lemming to the cliff.

Can lemmings learn to fly? Is that my purpose in this world?

Just drifting a bit when I feel overwhelmed can be a good thing.  I make a (mental) note to remember that in the next 34 days. 😀

Related Posts:

If I ran the Christmas Zoo

How to have the most mindful, meaningful Christmas ever!

Christmas is a women’s issue: A magazine review

Christmas procrastination

The 1st annual Greenie Granola Awards for Conspicuous Consumption

The true cost of reducing holiday stress

Use your management skills to build a stress free Christmas


About Author, Pegasus Quincy Mystery Series

I write a mystery series about a young rookie deputy on her first assignment in the Verde Valley of Arizona.
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