A Remarkable Difference

Every year for as long as I can remember, I’ve sat in the same, familiar spot on the living room floor, rolled out my wrapping paper, scissors and tape, and wrapped our gifts for Christmas. I would do this for one gift or I would do it for many. It never mattered the amount, I just always gravitated to this spot for this task.

In recent years, I noticed that my back would feel a bit sore from the bending and reaching once it was time to get up. I’d usually laugh it off with a quip about being another year older and move on.

A few weeks ago, I sat in my old, familiar spot with the first gift of the season. While I was sprawled on the floor I could feel my back aching as I reached for my tools and wrapped the gift. When I got up, I couldn’t believe how uncomfortable my back was feeling and I had to immediately do some stretching to ease the ache (and to be able to stand up straight!). I stared at my old, familiar spot on the floor and, for the first time, I felt a sense of dread as I considered the other gifts that would need to be wrapped later on.

As I packed away the wrapping tools, my eyes shifted to the dining table not more than five feet away from my old, familiar spot. 

Here is where I state the obvious… but please, bear with me…

I decided then and there that I would try wrapping the other gifts on the table when the time came.

So last night, with the rest of the gifts in tow, I pulled up a seat at the dining table, rolled out my wrapping paper, scissors and tape, and got to work.

The difference was remarkable, to say the least.

Gift after gift, I reached, I cut, I stuck, I wrapped. I even adorned a few gifts with a little ribbon, which I never usually do. 

When I was done, I got up from my chair with ease and I surveyed my handiwork without any pain at all. 

A simple shift was all it took, and yet I had never even considered wrapping gifts on the table…
Because that’s not how I did it.
Because I had an old, familiar spot.
Maybe… because I never needed to before.

I wondered whether there were other areas of my life in which I had an old, familiar way 
of doing things,
of seeing things
or of believing things

that I have outgrown,
that limit my movements
or that cause me pain

and yet I still gravitate to them
because that’s how I’ve always done it,
seen it
or believed it to be.

I wondered whether I am able to recognise when an old, familiar spot becomes so old that it does more harm than good and yet so familiar that I don’t even consider doing things any other way.

I believe we all have those old, familiar spots in our lives –
those ways of doing things,
of seeing things
or of believing things 

that we have outgrown,
that limit our perception and potential,
or that cause us distress, angst or even pain

and yet we still gravitate to them 
because that’s how we’ve always done it,
seen it
or believed it to be.

By making a simple shift from the floor to the dining table, I opened myself to a new way of doing things. I released the belief that something that I have always done ought to be continued. 

By making a simple shift from the floor to the table, I listened to my body and to its changing needs.

By making a simple shift from the floor to the table, I gave myself something I never knew I needed… because I never needed it before.

What if we honestly assessed the old, familiar spots in our lives?

What if we listened – truly listened – to our changing needs?

What if we made a simple shift in the way we see things,
do things
or believe things to be
no matter how old, or familiar or ingrained those things may seem?

Well…

We may find that a new perspective is often accompanied by more ease.
We may find that a meaningful shift is more obvious than we think.

And we may find that the difference is remarkable, to say the least.

*******

Friends, Christmas is a time of year when we usually ask others, “What do you want?”
This year, I invite you to ask yourself, “What do I need?”

Maybe it’s a commitment to regular rest.
Maybe it’s a recognition that healthy boundaries are important.
Maybe it’s permission to do things differently.
Maybe it’s a deep and abiding understanding of your worth.

Whatever it is, I urge you to resolve to meet those needs in abundance, with grace and in new and exciting ways… no matter how old or familiar your previous way of doing things, 
seeing things 
or believing things to be may seem.

From my heart to yours, I wish you a very Merry Christmas.