My yoga teacher often begins class by asking us to gently let go of the day as we come to our mat. "There's nothing left to do," she instructs. I've always found it so calming that she starts the class with that sentiment, instead of ending with it.
As I stare down the last few days before Christmas, I'm trying to remind myself of that teaching.
There's nothing left to do. Yes, I just mailed the last of my Christmas cards today, so some (hi Chloe!) won't arrive until after the 25th. I put a box in the mail to my parents - but their "real" gift won't arrive for a week or so (it's tradition, right Mom?). I still have someone's (hi Barb!) birthday present sitting in my office. There are gifts to wrap, cookies to bake, and menus to plan. The lights that are hanging on the back of a chair in the kitchen might never make it to the window. The poinsettas that I planned to purchase will probably be skipped.
There's nothing left to do. Hope is home. I snuggled up next to her before I left for work this morning. Austin & I will fold her into our "new" daily routines. I am so very, very grateful that I have both of my kids to hold tight. Safe. Healthy.
There's nothing left to do. I've been pondering all of my 2012 goals, practices, OLW, etc. I've been Reverb-ing, just not writing it down. I've been starting to form plans & intentions for 2013. I've been tossing around what projects I want to commit to (Project Life is a definite), and constructing ways to keep myself accountable.
There's nothing left to do. December 25 will be here (the Mayans be damned) soon, and we'll collectively exhale. Here's to slowing down, if only for a moment.