Holidays are not for the mentally ill. All the change in routine, the extra people, the money management, the sugar, the shortening days. It’s maddening for the perfectly sane.
I thrive in ordinary time, days well guarded by white space and rhythm.
I find respite in Advent calendars. Tiny doors and boxes opened one day at a time, in linear progression, moving forward in time toward a magnificent goal — the celebration of the Incarnate Deity, and lengthening days.
In November, I start with the lists — I write out every special meal, party, church service, play date, shopping trip, and phone call I will have to make for the month of December. Then I fill in as much normal activity as I possibly can. I highlight the mundane days, the totally normal trips to the grocery store, the daily trek to the YMCA. I do my best to keep my head down, and plow ahead in faith.