change is gonna do you good

Once I overcame my holiday decorating ambivalence and put up the tree, I managed to drain every drop of pleasure from it's fake plastic branches. Each morning I looked forward with great anticipation to the ceremonial re-lighting and kept it lit untiI I stumbled into the bed at night. My face lit up brighter than the tree itself when it greeted me with a sparkly "welcome home" every time I walked through the front door and, for the first time since moving, I felt literally drawn in to that room by the tree's magnetic force.

I grew so attached to it's magical presence that I couldn't bring myself to take it down, and I was beginning to wonder if I might become one of those eccentric old ladies who mixes gaudy tinsel and garland with the sound of summer cicadas? (I have cats in multiples, so it's already a short walk to Crazytown, according to the general population.)

On January 5th, the day before I summoned the emotional fortitude to finally pull the plug and say my goodbyes, I had my own mini-epiphany. It was about familiarity and change. HUH?

In some ways, I'm piggy-backing on my last post about tradition and such. The sight of our own pretty ornaments nestled in the branches of that familiar fake tree gave me such comfort and connection to a real sense of home there in that beautiful room filled with someone else's furniture. And, while familiarity can sometimes breed contempt, boredom or laziness, in this case it was calming to me and actually became fertile soil for hope. 

And that same room with someone else's furniture became my creative playground. My inner-decorator doesn't get to come out and play much right now, so tweaking the tree to make it fit with the style and color scheme (see my last post) was enough to scratch my itch without spending a penny.

January can create the perfect storm, if you're bored with your present surroundings but your post-Christmas pocketbook won't allow you to tackle a total "torch-it-and-transform-it" makeover. A couple gallons of paint or a couple of new throw pillows can sometimes get you past this winter slump. Or how about simply removing everything in a room that you don't really like (as long as it doesn't actually serve any real function)? 

I think I'm on to something. Maybe in my next post I'll throw out some simple transformation ideas to get you blooming from the inside out. Then before you know it, all of creation will follow your lead and you'll be surrounded by the sweet smell of spring.