The Blessings of an Imperfect Christmas

I think I had a real Christmas tree growing up most years.  I really do not remember.  Obviously, the real vs. fake tree is not an issue I am passionate about at Christmastime.

As an adult, I maintain the rationale that I have a lot of stuff on my "to do" list and stringing lights around tree only to have to unstring them weeks later does not sound like an endeavor to which I need to dedicate my time.  There is always that one bulb that does not work on the light strand and that tangle always kinks up when unraveling the strands.  I can feel the stress working its way into my shoulders as I type those words.

Additionally, my husband is not a Christmas person.  He just is not and after 14 years together I am okay with that as long as he does not mind the madness that sets in my house this time of year.  I set up the tree and I take it down; the same is true for the garland, Santas, snowmen, nativity scenes, candy canes, etc. I go all out just not with a real tree..... until this year.

I bought a beautiful artificial, pre-lit tree ten years ago for mine and Hunt's first married Christmas.  It was perfect but after a 10 years, a few broken limbs and lots of tip overs from kids, it was time to put it out to the plastic pasture.  I had every intention of buying a new one on sale in July but that didn't happen.  Life happened but that did not.  So this year, I unloaded the Christmas boxes and remembered I have no tree (insert gasp here).

Home Depot to the rescue and two hours later I have a beautiful 9 ft. REAL Christmas tree.  Here is the kicker I discovered when we cut the bindings after it was secured in its tray:

REAL trees are not perfect.

I let it set for a couple of days.  Friends told me the limbs would "fall" and it will be okay.  The limbs did fall, it is beautiful but it was is still imperfect.  The shape is more organic not structured, some of the limbs are not strong enough for ornaments and the limbs do not bend to fill in the gaps.  My anxiety set in and it is now only after 2 weeks with my REAL tree that I can share this story.

I struggle with perfectionism.  My house is a mess but on the surface I look pulled together.  My perfect artificial tree gave me a sense of artificial peace because it was well, perfect.  Perfect color and perfect shape equal perfection; only it does not and that is the Christmas lesson I have learned this year.

This year's imperfect REAL tree highlighted to me the unfinished stockings that I convinced I had to hand sew for my children,  The hand sewn bead work is beautiful but took me a lot of time so somewhere all the way finishing them fell off the to do list.  I have a beautiful plain tree skirt because, in my mind, I was designing the snowflake appliqués that would dance around the fabric at the base of our tree.  My list of unfinished Christmas projects goes on and on but somehow my artificial tree pulled it all together.

I shared these feelings with two close friends both of whom rolled their eyes and looked at me like I was crazy.  Words failed me when I tried to explain why perfection mattered to me so much.  That is when I realized that maybe it shouldn't matter at all.  If I am not given the words to speak those feelings maybe I should take the hint they should not be said.

The end of 2012 is birthday of my authenticity.  I quit a good job with great benefits to establish my own business.  I have laid my vulnerability on the table and gone all in to create a better life for myself and my family.  I have never felt more exposed, ever.  My Christmas house usually feels perfect.  This year it feels REAL and it is something I am having to get used to everyday.  I am not meant to be perfect, I am meant to be me with all of my imperfections.  This lesson may be my Christmas miracle.