Picture the scene. December 1979. A small child in a sky-blue onesie looks up at the Christmas tree. Forty-one years ago, of course, onesies do not exist. The small child is wearing what's commonly known as a sleeping suit. The room has muted tones. With stripy brown curtains, a brown and beige carpet, and a retro TV filling most of the space, the scene screams seventies chic. But this is the cusp of a new dawn. The small child - not yet two - is ready to hit the eighties. In three years time, Wham will make their Top of the Pops debut. All of life is waiting, ready to grab with both tiny hands.
Taller than her parent's record collection, but not as big as the television, she's filled with wonder and awe. Is she transfixed by the tinsel? Is she imagining a future when a tree without fairy lights would be considered unfinished? Or is she confused about the ornamental wooden dog, directly in her eyeline, sitting on top of the box for no apparent reason? Her family have no pet dog, nor will they ever. Why is it there? What is its purpose? No one knows.
One thing we do know, however, is that the small child in the sleeping suit turned into someone pretty damn fabulous. Even if she does say so herself. HAVE YOU GUESSED? DO YOU GET IT? HAVE I GIVEN IT AWAY? It's me! I am the small child! And look. Here's the proof. There's the random dog!
Fast forward through the decades and here we are. Another festive season is upon us. It's fair to say that this Christmas will be odd. Ridiculously so. Let's not pretend otherwise. Some people have experienced devastating loss; others inconvenience and restriction. Wherever you fall on the spectrum, I don't think there's anyone who feels they've had a brilliant year. If I'm wrong, I'm made up for you. Good luck and all the best. But for the rest of us, I reckon it's a tricker Christmas than usual. However the following week pans out for you, I hope it's OK. And if it's at all possible, I hope it's lovely.
One life-lesson I've ingested this year, is that lowering expectations is useful. Perhaps like the 1979 Me from the photo, being (presumably) transfixed by a bauble, might be as good as it gets. But think how pretty that bauble might be. Imagine the colours as they shine in the light. All the glittery details, twinkling on the branch. Finding joy in the small stuff seems a decent start at making the most of the week. So whether it's relishing Friday morning's cup of tea, making the most of a family phone call, or focusing on the shimmer of a bauble as you eat a roast potato or pot noodle, there's always something small but positive. Even in 2020. It's worth a try, at least.
Have a lovely week, folks. And happy Christmas to all.
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