Dear Reader,

I’m sitting here on a couch next to a Christmas tree with my foot elevated on a pillow. I’ve been working toward the couch / Christmas tree combo for weeks now. I didn’t picture the foot on a pillow. But then I stepped wrong while carrying a decoration for the front lawn. I don’t know how I stepped wrong, I just remember trying very hard to undo that wrong step and the distinct popping sensation in my ankle which told me “undo” was not an option. So it is ice, elevation, a pillow, and an ankle brace for me while I wait for my body to repair the damage I unintentionally did to it.

I’d already planned to slow down in December. I didn’t need that enforced, yet here I am.  At least it was the last decoration, so my enforced stillness has a nice view. I can be glad for that.

December is always contemplative for me. I am surrounded by objects that I only see during this season, but which I’ve seen every December for decades. I hang the small crocheted frame for the plastic swan and I remember the child me who hung it on the tree in California. The swan always had the prettiest spot I could find, next to a blue light, surrounded by tinsel. My children have “the truck” which is small piece of plastic covered in scribbles that my youngest assured everyone was a truck. There are dozens of other tree ornaments. Each decoration is layered in story and each year we share the stories and add a new layer until plastic or wood or glass is thick with memory and meaning. I see and touch as they come out of the box, unlocking a connection to past years and selves. The repetition invites contemplation of who I was that leads me quite naturally into thinking about who I want to be next. Each year, as I decorate, I decide what comes out this year, what stays in the box, and what I want to carefully tend and carry forward into the future.  

This December I want to dwell in past and present, leaving the future to that small space between Christmas and New Years Day. A week will be time enough to think about all the work to come. Today I get to sit with my foot on a pillow and write. Later I will read. Tomorrow I will buy groceries. There will be a week of social when friends from out of town are here for a visit. There will be a smattering of holiday gatherings where I spend time with family.

Of course there will be tasks as well. Business does not stop. In fact the shipping picks up pace for the next while. Laundry, doctor’s appointments, and repair needs don’t stop either. My life will not stop being busy, but the difference between overwhelmed and relaxed isn't how much I'm doing per day, but how I feel while doing things. The weight of a task is the stress and urgency it carries rather than the task itself. It is a wonderful judo when I can carry on with doing exactly as many things as before, but somehow be less stressed about all of it. For me, for this month, the biggest trick to letting go of the stress is that deliberate focus on the present. The large scale questions about finances and scheduling for next year are not today’s problem. I have the resources to cover December and so I am excused from worrying about anything beyond December until after my Christmas holiday.

At least that is the plan I have while sitting here with my foot on a pillow.

May your December also provide you with a bubble of peace no matter what holiday you celebrate or avoid, no matter what list of urgencies or chores may come for you, I hope that you are able to also find moments when you let all else go and just breathe next to something lovely. Even if only for a moment or three.
All the best,
Sandra Tayler

 
 The month just past:

My daughter had her baby. I did a lot of post-natal emotional support and babysitting. I juggled that with urgent convention preparations. Then we did a two day convention. Then Thanksgiving needed planning and I had to order a couch before the black Friday prices went away. Then I had to clean up all the various accumulated messes in time to decorate for Christmas. "Decorate for Christmas" was yesterday, so I've had very little breathing room. Especially since I sprained my ankle stepping wrong off a stair on the very last Christmas decoration. That last might be the universe's way of forcing me to slow down...

Yet, in the midst of all of that, I have managed to do some work on SLSC the past few days. That feels good after months with little-to-no progress. I've also been more successful with a morning devotional time involving yoga and personal scripture study. I feel like I've made some progress on all of my priorities in the past month. (For folks new to my newsletter, here is where I describe my 2023 priorities and this is where I summarize medical adventures.)

 
 The coming month (December):

I have to slow down in December. I've been running too fast for too long. So I need to slow my pace significantly. I also need to move faster on the SLSC revision. Fortunately this is not a contradiction because writing comes easier when I slow down. Slow down everything else and focus on writing. That is the plan with a sprinkling of family holiday celebrations.
 
 Looking Ahead:
 
I'm going to list these quick, but then I'm going to ignore them until I get most of the way through December.

January will be me orienting to new year and planning. If I'm going to run crowdfunding for SLSC, then this is the month to begin promo work. There is a plan involving TikTok...  I'll also have some contract work and will be running a small booth at Authors in the Dungeon on January 20.
February I hope to run crowdfunding for a reprint of the Seventy Maxims book. I want to keep it low key, but crowdfunding is not usually low key. I will be at LTUE teaching four classes. I'll also have contract work.
March Contract work will claim a large section of this month. (Sorry to be vague. Not my announcement to make.) I will also teach a class at Teen Author Boot Camp.
April This might be the month where I run crowdfunding for SLSC, but all the months leading up to this one have a lot in them, so I'm concerned I won't hit this mark. Might be May instead.

 
Frustrations:

Not loving having a sprained ankle.

More of a fear than a frustration: but I'm a little worried about the pace I have planned for myself in the first five months of 2024.
 
 
 Triumphs:

My family room space is finally cozy with furniture that works instead of being a jumble of left over pieces of projects.





 Books read:
 
These Vital Signs by Sayad Tabatai Originally written as Twitter threads, this book covers one doctor's experience of being in the medical profession across the height of the pandemic. It is poetic, heartwarming, and sad all at once.

The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher  A creepy novel about finding holes into alternate worlds and what might crawl through those holes back into yours.
 
Currently reading: I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou