Put the Knife Down!

Do you get stressed out as each year draws to a close and the holidays are upon us? Lots of people do and, with due respect to the men we love, it's usually the women who bear the burden of holiday preparations.

Personally, I really enjoy decorating and cooking, planning meals and shopping for gifts for everyone I love. That doesn't mean it isn't stressful and exhausting. As a perfect example of the way that our spirits make sure we do what's best for us, here's a story from my Christmas Day a couple of years ago:

I did all the work, as usual. I'm a widow, so there isn't even a lazy husband to gripe about; I just have to do it. And I do enjoy it, but a few days before Christmas, I stood looking at all the gifts I had shopped for and wrapped, gleaming under the tree that I had decorated, and I thought, "I really work hard at this. It's worth it to give my children a good, pleasant Christmas, but it would be great to have some help."

Be careful what you wish for. Cut to Christmas Day. And I don't use the word "cut" loosely. I am in the kitchen, plenty of able-bodied family around, and I am doing everything, even refusing the others' offers to help. "No, no, thank you, I can do it myself."

I'm carving the turkey--a man's job, if you'll pardon my sexism for a moment--and the blades on the electric knife get stuck. I unplug the knife, remove the blades, and try to un-jam them. Oh, yes, I manage to make a very nasty, bloody cut on my index finger.

Should we go to the hospital? I'm sitting on the floor, because I'm a fainter and I tend to faint when I hurt my hands or feet. I have my head down, trying not to pass out completely, mumbling orders to rinse the blood out of the sink and to look at my finger and tell me whether I should go to the ER. Daddy says yes. Boyfriend says maybe, it's up to me.

Later, my doctor-sister tells me over the phone that I should definitely go, I probably need stitches, and the joint could be jeopardized. I feel like the little kid in that movie--"You'll shoot your eye out, kid!"

I opt out of the trip to the ER. But guess what... I can't do it all anymore. I'm winged. I'm on the injured reserve list. I have to have help.

And you bet the whole family rallied and took care of stuff. I still directed, pointing with my bandaged finger, asking someone to put the potatoes on the table and someone else to fill the glasses. And someone finish carving the turkey!

And Christmas dinner was perfectly lovely. The throbbing notwithstanding.

My spirit knew that it wasn't right for me or for anyone else if I did all the work. I was being selfish, in a way, keeping all the work to myself and then getting to play martyr. Mm-hm. Serves me right. But I got the message.

What message is trying to come through to you? A good psychic can help you with that...!

Blessings to you at this festive time of year!
Susan K.

(c) 2007, Susan K. Morrow

My Method to the Madness

This time of year, we hear and read a lot of helpful tips telling us how to survive the holidays, enjoy the holidays, forget the holidays, fa-la-la-la-la. But nobody talks about those of us who somehow manage to enjoy them.

Maybe I’m the only one, but I have a great time with the holidays. And my family is no less dysfunctional than most. But maybe we know how to put the “fun” in “dysfunctional”!

Okay, bad joke, but truthfully, how do I do it? I had to stop and think about it, because, as with many things that we do with ease, I wasn’t really sure what I was doing differently from the miserable, lonely, and depressed. (With apologies to “The Little Mermaid.”)

First of all, I don’t do most of the things the helpful hinters suggest. I don’t get particularly involved with charity or donations, although if I come across something easy and worthy, I donate. (Salvation Army’s outside Target? I’ve got cash? Okay, here you go.)

I don’t make any extra effort to find time for myself, but that is something I do regularly anyway.

I don’t try to cut back on spending or the number of gifts—in fact, I really love to go overboard if I can.

I have not quit sending Christmas cards, but several years ago, I switched to an email greeting and newsletter that leaves me satisfied, if not my readers.

I don’t forgo traditional meals in favor of sandwiches to make my life less stressful. I just get up to my elbows in mashed potatoes and sing carols at the top of my lungs.

I don’t leave some of the decorating undone because it’s too much trouble. I put up what I like and if the neighbors think it’s ugly or not enough, too bad for them. I figure, I’m a poor little widow-woman and I haven’t had a man to do Christmas lights for over a decade. I do the best I can with what I’ve got!

So why am I so happy?

Well, other than being essentially happy (and helping others to be), there are two things I came up with that help me enjoy the holidays.

First, I flat out refuse to put pressure on myself about anything. For example, I get excited about the gifts I am giving and if the recipient is happy with it, there’s nothing better. If he/she is not, well, I’m no worse off than I was. And I don’t even give gifts outside the family. I love my friends and I tell them so, we spend time together, but we agree that a visit is better than a gift.

Second, I have a flexible work schedule. I think this is huge. And I acknowledge that it’s not an option for everyone. I met a woman who works at Starbucks and discovered that she also works full-time at HEB. How she’s putting in 75 hours a week, I can’t imagine. But she did not complain once about how hard it was to do that at Christmastime. We’ll have to ask her secret. Even though I will never work that many hours!

Apparently, one of my secrets is internal and one is external. You definitely have complete control over one. What about the other? I won’t tell you to quit your job, but you can quit being beaten up by it.

If you have happiness and flexibility all year long, you’ll sail through the holidays. And here is my wish that you do!

P.S. If you don’t have happiness and flexibility, you might want to consult someone insightful about that. ;o)

Happy Holidays!
Susan K.

Susan K. Morrow
www.SisterMystic.com
Author of Seven Chakras, Seven Days

'Til He Appeared and the Soul Felt Its Worth

As we are gliding effortlessly through our holiday season (effortless, right?), I am enjoying Christmas carols on the radio and on my computer. I love the holidays and Christmas and all the “wretched excess”, the music and all the love and glowing and memories…

And as I delight in the music of the season, I remember that some of the most beautiful music has been written in the name of Christ. “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” notwithstanding.

Now, I’m not particularly preachy or churchy, but I find a lot of good, interesting, and weird things to ponder in religion. And Christian music can be very helpful for pensive, pondering people like us.

(Granted, not all hymns are lovely. Maybe someday I will launch a comparison of the dirges of praise we used to sing in the Presbyterian church, the “plunging around in a bloody fountain” war cries of the Baptist church, and the hypnotic modern rhythms of latter-day community churches. But that’s another topic.)

In one Christmas song, O Holy Night, I noticed again the phrase, “’til he appeared and the soul felt its worth.”

I started to think about that. I frequently instruct my clients to focus on their divine value, that aspect of themselves that means they are worthy of love, joy, and abundance, just because they are. Because they exist, they were born, God put them here on this earth in this life.

The song’s lyrics go on to say, “A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.” In the strictest Christian interpretation, that might mean that Jesus brought hope to a hopeless world, and that his name should be exalted.

The way I see it, Jesus came to say, “You are worthy” to the world and this was the hope he offered. “No longer must you pine in sin and error. Remember your soul’s worth and rejoice.” That's why Jesus represented hope. And you do too.

Because you are worthy.

Please let that sink in. And look under the tree—or in the sky or in the eyes of those you love—and find the gifts of love, joy, and abundance that you came here to claim.

May the peace of the season be yours!
Susan K.

(c) 2007, Susan K. Morrow