’Tis the Season for Empty Squares
By: Hollis Hartwell
Call me an old-fashioned hag, but I love a good calendar. Not on my phone. Not on a computer. On paper. Filled with penned words, highlighted dates, and sticky flags. Tidy and list-laden, I carry it around in my purse like a badge of my adulthood.Look at me,it beckons.I can show you birthday parties, soccer practices, and pap smears!
Come every Christmas season, nothing is more satisfying than seeing every square filled with green and red ink to showcase all there is to do. It means I’ve made it. It means I’m living. Full calendar, full life. Full calendar, full heart. Full calendar, full time.
This year, my squares are anything but full. During the week it’s been our usual hustle, but the weekends are empty squares. At first, they taunted me.Look what a loser you are, they said when I opened my calendar on Friday mornings.Look how little you have.
Now I find myself reveling in those empty squares. Looking forward to filling them with something a little slower, a little more spontaneous. Something that doesn’t get written down because it’s too busy happening. Because maybe the goodness of it can’t fit into a box or be explained by words.
It’s a simplicity I haven’t experienced in over a decade, much less during a holiday season. It’s not just traditions I’ve beenchasing all these years; it’s the need to be busy. To keep going and going and going like a middle-aged Energizer Bunny to prove my worth—my love for everyone—by doing everything under the damn sun.
It’s scary to imagine a world where I don’t work to fill our days up. Will my kids be upset? Will they be bored? Will they find me dull? Will they see how much I love them even if I don’t take them to every parade that passes through town?
I’ve always believed that having a full schedule and an ironclad plan was what made magic happen. “Today we are doing this fun, festive thing!” were the magical words that could incite so much cheer. But there’s also beauty in being able to ask, “What do you want to do today?” A special kind of merriment in sometimes being able to choose your own adventure, even at Christmas. Maybe especially then.
In a season stretching and shaping me in ways I’ve never imagined, I’m daring to say more empty squares might be the key to more joy.
December 14th
Hollis
Jay
Bad news—the ice sculpting guy cut off a finger working on an ice yeti last weekend. We need something new.
Hollis
That’s alarming.
Jay
Hi.
Hollis
Hi.
Jay
Is it weird I miss you?
Hollis
Only because we just got off the phone.
Jay
You’re right, it’s weird.
Hollis
You could come over here tomorrow. We could come up with a plan or I can show you my recording studio.
Marv
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