It’s Boxing Day, though I never take it literally. The Christmas decor will most likely stay up until New Year’s unless I encounter a strange burst of energy beforehand.
Instead, Boxing Day meant spending the morning finishing my book in bed, followed by local take-out, a few loads of laundry, and a walk to my parents and back (a weak substitution for a run but at least I got outside). I have a fire going now and am contemplating my third Diet Coke of the day. Inadvisable, but I think my body could stomach that better than more alcohol. I’ll take the whole of January off but I think I need a couple of days (at least, if I am going to follow through on a morning run tomorrow).
When I pulse check my feelings I am a mix of tired from the holiday energy, anxious at the long weekend draining away, but mostly incredibly grateful for what my Christmas has been this year. I know there are a lot of people who didn’t get to spend this week with their families or with their normal traditions. I’ve had my lonely and alone years on Christmas too and they were awful. For me this year was a return to festivity I haven’t felt in five years. It doesn’t take a lot of people to make that happen.
In the next week, I’ll turn my attention to reflecting and planning as I usually do around this time of year. But I’ve felt more resistance to it than I normally do. Maybe it’s because the year ahead brings more uncertainty that it’s tough for me to imagine how my plans will manifest . . . maybe it’s because I have had such major transitions this year . . . maybe it’s because I am so exceedingly grateful for the present that the future can wait for a moment. I suppose that’s a journal entry for tomorrow.
With Love,
Natalie