Instead, so gently I scarcely noticed it, the desire came upon me to do a little here, a little there. I ferreted out boxes of Christmas decorations from rarely used cupboards, where they had lain untouched for years.
One by one, I pulled out the boxes, opened the lids, and lifted out the ornaments and keepsakes, smiling at the ceramic angel choir my godmother made decades ago. I set the Snow Village mission on the coffee table, placed the gilded pinecones into crystal bowls, arranged red candles in brass holders. This feels as foreign as visiting a new country, and also familiar, something remembered, never forgotten.
*****
The only miracle is that this is me doing these things, and not because I feel like I should. I want to pretty up the house, plan a nice meal, go driving at dusk to look at the Christmas lights of generous neighbors who donate their electricity to make things bright. The last time I felt such uncomplicated pleasure during the holidays was when I visited my best friend in Connecticut over four decades ago. There’s no snow here, but as Barry De Vorzon noted, Santa Barbarans don’t need snow to have a whole lot of Christmas in our hearts.
*****
It occurs to me now that the “why bother, it’s just for us“ mindset is an insidious extension of deeply ingrained “I’m not worth it“ programming.
If an element of that programming has dissolved and allowed a heretofore unsuspected delight in finding silly decorations and wrapping packages just so, I rejoice, I rejoice, I rejoice.
Listen to It’s Christmas Once Again in Santa Barbara here:
https://tinyurl.com/322sktwa