Christmas is a crazy-making time of year. For every lucky person who loves it (the turkey! the kids! the shopping! the religious whatever!) there is one who doesn’t (the elevated pressure to be jolly! the family! the cooking! the shopping! the religious whatever!).
My family is typical, if not traditional. My kids are meeting in Toronto this week. I’ll have a day or two with them (yeah! yeah!) before they may or may not head to a warmer Christmas in South Carolina with their dad’s family. And my lovely man has this thing in his eye, which means we could be anywhere for the holidays. Even our dog, who is now in Toronto with her aunt and uncle, is unsure about where she wants to be.
If we’re lucky, we’ll smell a turkey somewhere this year.
This sounds whiny. It isn’t. I’ve given up imagining myself as the mother whose flock gathers ’round a traditional table, dishing cranberry sauce from polished silver.
My kids and I will sing Christmas tunes together when we meet. I’ll cry, because it’ll sound beautiful, and because it breaks my heart wide open to be together.
They’ll go off, and then I’ll find a place for my new tradition: 108 Sun Salutations. I did this last year, in a class. 108. In a row. It was the closest thing to yoga heaven, ever. The exhausted relaxation was so profound that it was everything I could do to walk to my car when it was over. This year, I’ll do the 108 in my home studio if i’m back in time. If not, i’ll do it in my sister-in-law’s basement, or in a hospital, or wherever the opportunity presents itself in Toronto. It’ll be my Christmas present to myself.
All of which is to ask: does yoga play a part in your holiday this year? Do you put it aside, or is it a gift of sanity and self-care to yourself?
Thanks to these holidays for teaching each of us what’s important in our lives.
And thanks to you, always, for the conversation,
kristin