Starting tomorrow

Procrastination jokes aren’t exactly new, and the news that I’m a procrastinator isn’t likely to shock anyone, but I’m really battling it this week, and I thought I’d share a few of my thoughts.

I’m constantly making resolutions. I don’t need a New Year. I make plans and goals and resolutions on a daily basis. I resolve to work harder, eat better, exercise more often, read more news, cook better, keep the kitchen clean, save money, practice the piano, organize my closet, learn Spainish, apply to more jobs, blog, tweet, and be generally awesome. And I’m always sure I’ll start tomorrow. I really do want to do it. I think about doing it all the time. I dream of doing it, I sometimes even act as if I have already accomplished everything I want to. And I’m sure I’ll get there someday, somehow.

            And it isn’t as if I sit around and do nothing all day. I keep busy and accomplish many good things. I have hobbies and interests and projects and responsibilities and work. It isn’t like I’m a lazy lump.

            But I’m also not where I want to be. I’ve been doing a lot of looking backwards lately, and a lot of what if –ing. You know what I mean: What if I had moved here? What if I had stayed there? What if I had done an internship? What if I had changed my major? What if things had been different?  What if I had started sooner?

            And I know that what if’s can be useless, depressing, and even crippling. I know I need to look forward, be here now, and work with what I have. But they haunt me. And right now the one that is haunting me the most is the What if I had started sooner? What if I had really started back when I first thought of it? And just done it? And kept doing it? Where would I be now? Further than I am, of that I’m pretty sure.

So this week was an epic battle against waiting, and I am going to win. I’m starting now, not tomorrow. And I’m going to keep it up. And I’m not sure if there is really a way to live life without looking back and having at least a few what-if’s, but I don’t want to be looking back and feeling this way again next year.  Or ever again, if I can help it. 

Nativity

Almost half way through December my Granny called and asked if I would like to have a nativity set of hers that she didn’t really want anymore. She has so many sets, and while she liked this one well enough, she felt she didn’t have room for it, and probably wouldn’t use it again. She decided I really needed to have a nativity set of my own, to set up in my “cave I was building” and make it Christmas-y.  I was surprised, but of course I said yes, and went and picked up the boxes from her house.

            When I got home, I unpacked a shepherd with a crook, a donkey, a sheep, three bearded wise men, Joseph, Mary, and a baby Jesus. They are a little unusual, carved with nativity scenes on their quilted-looking skirts, and I’m not sure what they are made of. But they are lovely, and I already treasure them.

            Setting them up brought back memories of our family’s first nativity. Well, at least the first nativity I remember being allowed to touch and move around. It was a wonderful wooden set with tiny figures, and I found it very complete. There was an arch that represented the stable, two trees, two sheep, a donkey, a camel, two shepherds, one angel, three wise men, and the holy family. My sisters and I spent many hours throughout the Christmas season rearranging the figures to tell the story in what we felt was the best way. We agonized over who went where, how close they were standing, the angle at which they were turned toward baby Jesus, everything. Sometimes we argued that of course the wise men weren’t there that first night in the stable, so perhaps we should show them traveling on their way to the city. And if they were traveling, maybe they should get the camel. But maybe there was a camel in the stable. The same went with the sheep. How many came with the shepherds, and how many were already there? And where should the angel stand? Usually the angel stood behind the family, standing guard and giving blessing, but I am sure at other times we showed him telling the shepherds, or singing the news to the world. We knew the whole story because of those figures, and we loved to tell it over and over.

My new nativity changed locations three times, and got rearranged even more that that. I added a candle to be the star, and then switched it out for a different candle in a brass holder I thought matched better. Then I added a satiny red cloth underneath to make it seem more special (since it was just sitting on top of my ancient metal filing cabinets). It was perfect. It wasn’t very big, and it was kind of in a corner, but it quietly reminded me of everything I have ever learned about the story of that first Christmas night, and what it means.

Today it was time to put away my nativity. I fussed over the figures as I carefully put them back in their boxes, choosing the order and making sure everyone was facing the way in the box I thought they should. I’m already excited for next Christmas, when I can take them back out and arrange and rearrange them until I am satisfied. I don’t know where I will be, and I don’t know what surface they will rest on, but it cheers me up knowing they will be with me, bring Christmas to wherever I am.