Let’s send a letter to Santa, a grown up Christmas list. It’s not too late. The coolest part is you’ll get an answer. It may be from an employee of the US Postal Service, but he or she could be in touch with Santa. It’s possible. Here’s my letter to merry St. Nick.
Thank you for all your hard work and good cheer. It’s so kind of you to whip around the world each year to bring us gifts. Here’s my Christmas list. If you don’t mind, I’ll use bullet points and highlighting since I’m a grown up.
- I’m longing for a universal remote, a single-click connector. This way I won’t have to point three remotes at our flat screen TV and hope for the best. Last weekend I spent a dizzying amount of time pointing and clicking and on-ing and off-ing my way to an episode of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. After un-marvelous minutes of TV remote gun fighting, I left the den in frustration.
- New binoculars would be amazing. I like to sit in my kitchen and spy on birds and rabbits, but I have a cheap pair and one of the lens covers snapped off. This past-time is very soothing and educational so let’s make it my number one gift choice if that’s OK with you.
- It’s kind of rude to ask for another rocking chair since I have three already. The thing is they occupy strategic positions on the back porch for morning, midday and evening observations. Each tells a very different story of the sky and the landscape. The cheap chair is getting wobbly.
OK, Santa, enough about stuff. I have a feeling you can help me with some spiritual concerns as well. Perhaps you can add good books to children’s lists. There’s nothing like a book to truly lift a child’s spirits and hug their souls. Maybe you can sprinkle a little lasting peace and love around Christmas trees like magic potions.
Finally Santa, I’d like to share a free gift. It’s the gift of quiet and slow. Surely you know someone interested in this form of self love. I’ve been extra quiet and extra slow lately. As a result, I’ve seen and heard the most wonderful things. From my kitchen window, I watched a dozen cupped brown leaves criss-cross a cerulean sky like synchronized dancers. It was awe inspiring. On a frosty morning I lingered in bed with the dark and heard the school bus pulling itself up the road. The loud rumble and cough.
Then came the most unusual surprise. Getting ready to plant paper white bulbs, I held them in my palms and felt a surge of wonder and joy. I love paper whites but never like this. Slowing way down, the earth speaks to you and shares such good things. The experience is distinct from meditation or yoga. You are slowing into your essence and being quiet as you are. No changes or adaptations to accommodate someone’s plan. It’s all free, and it’s all without measure.
So Santa, please share the gift of quiet and slow if you have time. Merry Christmas, safe travels, and lots of love, Maureen