I’ve said “Perfect is Canceled” so much in the past couple of weeks that I’m starting to wonder if I’m trying to convince myself.
It’s my tribute to an imperfect holiday season — and my reminder to let go of the performance so I can be present and actually enjoy my favorite time of year.
I’ve always thought people are just nicer during this season. As if the holiday decorations drip with joy that seeps into the rest of us. Maybe it’s the Christmas movies and their sappy, cheesy messages of holiday love. I love Christmas movies.
But I think Christmas is my favorite season because it was my father’s favorite season. He always relayed this quiet sense of magic about the whole thing. It was our very simple white Christmas tree, the pastel lights in plastic white lanterns strung across the tree, and the presents that my parents, I now know, struggled each year to put under that tree. My parents made it special. Therefore, it is special for us.
Eventually, Christmas became a very busy time of year — work, gifts, decorating, cooking, all of it. I’ve had seasons when I was just exhausted. Slowly, I started to realize the exhaustion wasn’t worth it. Being simpler and present mattered more.
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