The next morning, I impulsively emptied out my cupboard, took my three favorite platters and centered them on each shelf, from smallest at the top to biggest at the bottom. Inspired by a set of wooden bowls and a pair of brass deer I had bought over the summer, I realized I had the core components of a forest vibe.
Within an hour, I had shuffled through my storage cabinet, selected a handful of other pieces that fit the theme, finished off the arrangement, and found inner peace.
Then I went and deleted every single one of those shopping carts that I’d filled the night before, and enjoyed my make-it-work moment.
And I think that’s a good start to any project.
Ditto that on the ribbon selection.
Laying aside any expectations of grandeur, I worked with a passionless determination to get every box wrapped in something and tied up with anything long enough to tie into a bow.
Only when I laid my stash out in the table and took in the sight as a whole did I realize that somehow, the scrappy and uncoordinated presents were beautiful together. What a fun surprise.
But I never do.
Every year, I buy red tulips for my Christmas table and I am always glad. They make me happy. .
That is a gift for me.
This may be purely selfish and quite out of step with the true spirit of the season, but while I’m Christmas shopping, I often stumble across some beautiful thing that I cannot live without. And even though I feel a wee bit bad about it, I buy it.
And somehow it helps soothe my guilty conscious if I tuck it away till Christmastime, and then wrap it up and give it to myself as a proper present.
Love your neighbors as you love yourself, right?
Inside this year’s package was a white quartz coaster from Anthropologie. It’s now unwrapped and sitting on my nightstand, where I use it every night for my glass of water.
And every time I look at it, I remember that I gave it for myself as a Christmas gift.
I have zero regrets.
And if you don’t believe me, I invite you to come to my dining room and see for yourself.