Counting Down

In so many ways, I am counting things, and the things I am counting whittle downward. Often, the whittling creates abundance. Here is what I mean:

• The days until Christmas: As I follow the countdown and the number of days gets smaller, my pile of crocheted gifts gets bigger. I make gifts with my hands to remind myself that Christmas is about giving of yourself to honor others, not about buying things to honor capitalism. I crochet because counting stitches is a form of meditation, and meditation keeps me sane.
• The pounds on my body: I count my calories and the amounts of fat and sugar I put inside my body. I am not obese, and not even more than a few pounds overweight, but I like feeling light. When I feel light, I practice yoga more often, I sit on the floor instead of the couch more often, and I enjoy the taste of food more.
• The objects in my home: Just knowing that I am about to reorganize a drawer and, therefore, whittle its contents down to the beautiful essentials, gives me a thrill. Actually doing the work, making each small decision about what to keep, what to donate, what to throw away, is ecstasy, thrill upon thrill upon thrill. I used to think I loved discarding things, the sensation of unburdening myself, but now I think I love the feeling of completeness that follows the work of whittling.

Photo by S. Gaissert. Macy's, Herald Square, New York, NY.

As the holidays descend upon us, I hope that you can find ways to whittle away at the inevitable stress that will creep into your consciousness the way plaque forms on teeth, not meaning any harm but capable of utter destruction. Work it off. Count it down. Five, four, three, two, one. Can you feel the abundance?