12.24.13 Deck the Halls (& the Final Giveaway)
And so we've come to the final installment of the Glutton for Life Grand Holiday Gift Extravaganza. There were nesting bowls; there were caramels; there was the Shizzle with its own salt cellar; there was a collection of 7 cookbooks; there were homemade preserves, which, by the way, are going to Nikki! (Please send your mailing address to email@example.com, Nikki, so I can get these jars out to you asap.) And now, there are these very beautiful spoons, handcrafted in mother-of-pearl with carved silver accents, that are just the thing to spoon up a little caviar. This time it's a very quick turnaround, so if you'd like to be in the running to win these, just leave a comment below by midnight on 12/26 telling me how you plan to ring in 2014. I'll announce the winner in my last post of the year on the 27th. With the solstice behind us, the countdown to the year's end feels imminent and time is of the essence.
Fast away the old year passes. Blink and we'll be up to our eyeballs in 2014. Some time ago I told you about how my friend Kristin selects a theme to shape and inspire every year. For the last few months, I have been wrestling with what mine could be. I was waffling between Fitness, which sounded rather Draconian and dull, and Joy, which seemed optimistic if a bit nebulous. But just this week it came to me in a flash: Landscape of the Body. It's a touch more poetic than Fitness, don't you think? I envision it leading me into new explorations of the mind-body connection, something I find increasingly fascinating the more time I spend winding my way around this mortal coil.
I have recovered from the flu (but not before lovingly passing my germs to poor G), wrapped up my client work for the year and turned my attention to the business of Christmas. This evening there will be feasting with friends and tomorrow a drive to Woodstock for more of the same. I lament the turn in the weather, for this unseasonal warmth has robbed us of our thick white blanket of snow. But inside, scarlet winterberries, iridescent feathers and my collection of pinecones create a festive ambience. Flickering candlelight and the blaze in the hearth are reflected in the silvery depths of mercury glass. Smells of cider and spices fill the air. In our small cottage there are no children underfoot, no hordes of extended family come to visit. Instead there is love, sweet nostaligia and quiet contentment.
2013 was a difficult year for many people. There was a lot of free-floating anxiety, confusion and disappointment, so I have high hopes that the coming year will deliver fresh optimism and new possibilities. Let's all focus together on bringing peace, joy, love, health and abundance into our lives, and on seeing our most cherished dreams realized through the power of creativity. Whoever you are and whatever your circumstance, this is your birthright.
Outside my window, the bare trees are like stark grey skeletons, but they hold the memory of seasons past and the promise of new life ahead. So I will light some candles, stir up something delicious, play music that lifts my spirit and nestle into the bosom of those I call family. And I will raise a glass to you in celebration of this virtual conection that feeds my soul more than I could have ever imagined. Merry Christmas to all!