Magic in Stillness
My holiday wish for you
“To have no more running to do ... to have arrived, and have no more need to run. The appetite changes. Now I think it would be a beautiful thing to be still.”
― Ellis Peters
For me, the holiday season epitomizes my experience of motherhood: the constant, sometimes overwhelming, tension between doing all the things and savoring every moment—regardless of what remains on the to-do list.
As I write this from a pet sit in my hometown of Minneapolis, my daughter now grown, leaving me with far fewer holiday responsibilities than in the past, that tension remains. Evolved but no less poignant. No longer chasing the hottest toy or latest gadget (at least until grandchildren) or hosting Martha Stewart-worthy gatherings, I find myself playing an internal game of tug-of-war between meticulously curating my calendar to ensure time with as many friends and family as possible and a gentler, unscripted approach of allowing my schedule and plans to unfold as they may. Simply being, fully present with, to and for those around me.
I’d like to (and often do) blame this tension on external forces—advertising and marketing, mainstream and social media, the patriarchy, consumerism, even my own child. But the honest truth is that it comes from me, as much or more than it is thrust upon me by others. My own ambition, driven by both love and insecurities, to create meaningful moments and memories. And, in doing so losing sight of the magic that simply is.
Today, on this darkest day of the year, final night of Hanukkah, and start of Christmas week—whether you are lighting the last candle, scrambling to wrap up gifts or shopping, or marking just another Sunday—I offer this simple wish: Stillness.
May you pause amidst so much to do and so many to see; quiet the noise of ads, influencers, experts, and your own children; and be still. Breathe deeply. Look around. Witness the magic that is already there. Magic that is always there. Even when plans fall through and expectations fall short.
Then, in that same stillness, go within. Find that peaceful place, always there but so often drowned out or ignored. Trust that peace. And yourself.
Wishing you a Happy Hanukkah, Blessed Solistice, relaxing Sunday, Joyous Festivus, Heri za Kwanzaa, Namaste, and Merry Christmas.


