Season of hope or hassle?

Of all the seasons, summer and fall seem to pass by the fastest for different reasons.  Summer passes quickly because we hate to see it go.  Many of my friends even start to get depressed at the summer equinox in late June knowing that the days will start to grow shorter – and that the coming seasons bring an end to the fresh peaches and corn at the roadside stands, the trips to the local pool or lake, kids baseball or sitting out on the patio at night with friends.

Fall passes quickly for entirely differently reasons.  It’s as if a starting gun fires the day the kids go back to school.  We mentally pack away the frolic of summers and resume our normal and serious lives.  The brisk walk becomes a trot around Halloween.  At Thanksgiving, it becomes a full sprint to the end.

How many times have I found myself at Christmas Eve thinking, “I missed the season again this year!”  With all that is going on – working, shopping, making arrangements, traveling – it’s easy to miss the joy of it all.  Instead of “Goodwill toward all!” and a reminder of our common humanity and connections, it can turn out to be a season of hurry and hassle.

This year I’m working to have a great holiday season.  Sure, the demands of work will remain, but there’s time to squeeze in the things I need to do. I’ll make sure I don’t miss the “events” of the season: I’ll get tickets to our local choir concert and take our family to see the Christmas Carol and bring good spirit to the neighborhood Christmas party.

More importantly, when I see a person in a hurry or acting impatiently, I’ll try to wonder what must be going on in their life to make them so.  Or wonder if they have family and friends to love. When I find myself running behind or getting judgmental, maybe I’ll take the time to consciously count my blessings. I will try to remember many will be passing this season without a loved one for the first time. Maybe I can look for an opportunity to be generous and help someone out that I might not otherwise do.  

If I miss the season, I’ll be the one to blame. And I vow to occasionally pause so that I may see the joy and pain of this world around me and consider my place in it. I want to make this a season of connection, not of hurry.