Zoo Lights

I have been relocated from my bed of choice. I have been banned from certain food items to preserve the quantity necessary for cooking. I am not able to run my typical morning route. And my sleep pattern is out of whack. My 'normal' surrounding are in upheaval... but it is temporary. These guest are gathered at our house for a purpose, food is bulging out of the pantry for a reason, and holiday errands are being run all over the place with people in mind. So, at night, when the day is winding down, it seems necessary to stay up at tad later with 'my people' celebrating the season.

The stresses of the season frustrate me (in there own way... and more than most); we--the inviters, chefs, purchasers--bring these stresses upon ourselves, then allow the decisions to exhaust us. In too many words, I am hinting at my heinous holiday character. Each year, I attempt to prevent the 'Grinch' in me from revealing itself... and until hell freezes over, I will fail.

My coping mechanism has been altered this year. The weather in Northern Virginia has been quite balmy, and while the spirit of the season suffers, these temperatures are doing wonders for my outdoor need. Taking full advantage--I am seeking refuge outside. The result has been a positive correlation in Vitamin D time and mood. (I find having a better understanding myself, a joy in aging!)

The family--parents and brothers--love Christmas. The traditions--decorating each nook and cranny, buying and receiving presents, seasonal music, cooking festive meals, visits from Santa, and Christmas movies--continue. Not to be mistaken for materialism, the highest delight is found in the Christmas morning gift exchange. They speak 'gratuity' while my language is 'quality time.' They thrive on pouring love, thoughtfulness, and effort into each gift. This, to me, is a foreign language (undeterred by my having been raised by these parents in this house)! My simple-minded self needs an ounce of your time, the roads for running, and a (preferably full) Naglene bottle; these 'buy' my happiness.

Their stress is rooted in the rush of holiday madness. My frustration materializes in their actions... stress over hosting family (unconditional love?), preparing recipes made year after year (seasoned?), and shopping for frivolous wants. To really make a statement: It all seems dumb!

My tolerance level for spirit and vigor bursts around this time (Re: Grinch, Failure). I wish I could lock-it-up... it should be hard to be frustrated by the sparkle in their eyes, the energy, the wonder... of their Christmas anticipation. I am a holiday joy-sucker.  

Since I am the sole person with a 'nature' requirement, I am in charge of scheduling the outdoor activities. Tonight we traveled to National Zoo in the district to witness the lights, and, I think, few were disappointed! The animals might have been tucked away in their geothermally heated pens, but they made a fine showing in light form. 

When we arrived home, to their preset-to-bake ham and potatoes meal, I felt refreshed. I escaped the confines of the house, stretched my legs, was frisked by the chill in the air, and was in the company of 'my people.' I might have my cure.