I must have been about three when I dressed myself all by myself for the very first time. It was early in the morning and I listened at my bedroom door for my Dad to get his coffee. Once he did, I bounded into the kitchen, struck a pose, and yelled, “Look! I got dressed!”
I was greeted with laughter and applause, and my mother made an extra piece of cinnamon toast for me in celebration.
I thought about that as I sprinkled cinnamon on my oatmeal yesterday morning. Isn’t it interesting, I thought, how many memories are liked together by our sense of smell? I make “old-fashioned” oatmeal, by the way, not the instant kind. It has a hardier texture and keeps you fueled for a long time. I add raisins to mine while it’s cooking, and sometimes chunks of apple. And, because my great-grandmother served it that way, I top it with a pat of real butter, a sprinkle of dark brown sugar, and a small dollop of plain yogurt or kefir.
But I didn’t mean to talk about oatmeal. I wanted to share the joy my three-year-old self felt at her landmark accomplishment. She felt so capable and proud, so “all grown up.”
As I said in last week’s letter, I believe it’s good to celebrate yourself every now and then. When you get the hang of a new skill, or when you passed a test or completed a task even though you were tired and wanted to quit, celebrate it. Pat yourself on the back. Put on a smile and say “Good job!” Revel in your pleasure and satisfaction. Share it if you like—not in a boastful or arrogant way, but simply to spread your joy. Or keep quiet, and let what you’ve done speak for itself. But be glad about it, either way.
The holidays are barreling down on us now, and love ‘em or hate ‘em, they put pressure on us all to live up to some ideal, to be happy no matter what. They come heaped with memories, both merry and sad, contented or mad, with traditions and stories we embrace or reject. Some of us are compelled to gather with family and friends. Some of us are compelled to be alone. But for all of us, even those of us who pretend that “it’s just another day,” the holidays pull us out of the ordinary and create little flurries of stress. And each of us does the best we can in the midst of it all, and I want to say that doing your best, even when it falls short of your hopes and expectations, is reason enough to say, “Well done.”
I hope that as you prepare for the days ahead you will pause from time to time to take stock of your accomplishments, both the little ones and the spectacular, and to celebrate them. Celebrate how you met the challenges and came out on the other side, and you’re still you, only stronger somehow, and better.
Personally, I’ll be launching the holiday season by taking next Sunday off. If you get lonesome for me, you can always pop in here. I leave pieces of myself almost every day.
I’ll have a new Sunday Letter for you again in December. You bring the coffee. I’ll bring cinnamon toast. And we’ll just celebrate together.
Warmly,
Susan
Image by LinneaFlower from Pixabay