| Tis The Season. |

It’s a beautiful 51 degrees here in Northern Virginia, just two days before Christmas Eve. My final work e-mail has been sent out, my “Out Of Office” response is active, and I am excited to step out into the sunshine soon, and embark on a much needed vacation.

My husband and I made the decision to stay home this Christmas, and create new traditions underneath our own roof in celebration of our first year of marriage. Between consistent travel and home improvement projects taking up most available weekends, it will be very good for us to simply rest, side by side. And although I get little twinges of longing from time to time, wondering if this was a good decision made, I am thankful overall that we don’t have to pack yet another suitcase and hit the road up 95 North to Connecticut- dogs, crates, and gifts in tow.

So what will I do with this newfound freedom, you ask? My husband inquired as well, as he still must work next week and I will be off for the remainder of the year. I practically sang my answer. I want to do everything, and nothing at all.

I want to revel in the prospect of a new day with no to-do list. I want to take out my camera, go for walks. De-clutter the house and donate what is no longer useful to us. Transform our basement into a fitness retreat. Write. Organize. Read. Visit that new coffee shop I’ve been dying to venture to.

I want to start to restore balance in my life; multiply my habits and set fire to my goals. I yearn to promote creativity and activity for a healthy body, mind, and spirit. 2017 is going to be about unleashing my inner free bird, an aspect of myself that has been satisfied by my regular jet-setting and a consistently changing home backdrop, but has not been properly nourished by a favorable routine.

My lack of steady blogging has led to writing fragments everywhere: In my pocket journal, in email drafts, on phone apps, on napkins and so forth. Yesterday I did my best to compile all excerpts into one Google document, so that I could browse through and edit all outstanding pieces at my leisure. I couldn’t believe that despite a blogging presence, I managed to rack up 30-pages worth of ideas, poems, and prompts, written in the past two years. It made me smile to know that my craft didn’t completely crumble.

There was one particular prose that I favored while I was reviewing my in-progress pieces. I wrote the poem when my husband and I first started dating, as a perspective on our relationship and how he viewed me.

Dream Catcher

She always had big bubbles of
Bright ideas floating from
Her head like cartoon clouds;
Boisterous thoughts crammed
Into each curve and
Threatening to break
Through the quiet static of
A synonymous every day.

And he adored her for that;
The way she believed, questioned,
Reflected, and reaped in
Every ounce of inspiration
That she came across,
Exposing herself with every
Word wondered aloud.

She was like a tidal wave
Surging toward shore,
Upturning every stone
And reclaiming only the sea’s
Most precious heirlooms.
She recklessly sifted and searched
For Life’s deepest meanings,
Shrieking with excitement
At each fortuitous finding
And storing her treasures,
Really, nowhere in particular.

He loved to watch
Her bright eyes wander,
Each balloon of curiosity
Blooming before drifting free…

And although he maintained
Modest measures, She never
Realized his shorter stride
As he trailed behind
To catch each balloon string
That soared slightly overhead,
Filled with the weight of her world
And infused with the bits of optimism that
He considered her most incredible quality…

It was her wild heart that he worshiped,
And her childlike innocence that he vowed to keep safe.


There doesn’t need to be a reason to adjust life this season, but the weird little girl depicted above has been quiet these days, and she is undoubtedly reason enough to make a few changes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s