There’s a Christmas tree in my living room with lights on it and no ornaments. There are decorations waiting to find their places, things that need to be put away, and a list of things to do that seems to grow whether I’m working on it or not.

And today, I’m tired.

Of course, my first instinct is to tell myself all the things I should be doing. I should go for a walk. I should clean the house. I should finish decorating. I finally have some time to myself, and surely I should be making the most of it.

But somewhere in all those “shoulds,” I forget to ask myself a simple question: What do I need today?

I love my home. I love the people in my life. I love traveling, getting together with friends, and having things to look forward to. But I’m learning that even the things I enjoy can leave me needing a little quiet afterward. And when one thing runs into the next, it’s easy to keep going without ever giving myself that time.

Then, when the quiet finally comes, I fill it with chores.

I’ve caught myself doing that lately. Looking at an empty day as an opportunity to catch up on everything, instead of an opportunity to catch my breath. Apparently, I can give everyone else permission to be tired, but when it comes to me, I want a good explanation and an estimated time of completion.

I’m working on that.

I’m learning that I can leave a few things unfinished without letting anyone down. I can sit with my coffee a little longer. I can enjoy the lights on my tree while the ornaments stay in their boxes. I put that tree up because it brings me joy, and I’d like to leave a little room to actually feel it.

There are still things I want to do. I want less clutter and more room to breathe. I want to move my body more and take better care of myself. Those things matter to me, but I can begin with one small thing, on one ordinary day, without demanding that I change everything by dinner.

Maybe giving myself grace starts with listening when I’m tired, being honest about what I have the energy for and with speaking to myself the way I would speak to someone I love.

Today, the tree has lights. The house is a little messy. I have things to do, and I’ll get to them.

For now, I think I’ll sit here for a while and I’m learning to let that be okay.

Wishing you love and light,

~Anne Dennish~