Once upon a time I thought that growing up and becoming an adult was about learning how not to get excited about things that haven’t yet come to pass. For many years I fought that – many years into my actual adulthood – and I was always susceptible to living in my head during the planning process, finding joy in the anticipatory delights that led up to any happy event. It wasn’t adulthood that killed my excitement in the planning and preparation process – it was COVID. Since then, and all the canceled plans and events that resulted, I let that exuberant part of me die, or at least sleep for now, and I haven’t quite decided whether or not to resurrect or wake it.
So when things happen to turn out well after whatever planning I manage to muster, I find the joy in them as they unfold rather than in the weeks and months leading up to them. Is that a reduction in overall joy in any given year? Yes, sadly, it is, and I’m learning how to navigate that – maybe that’s the real secret of becoming an adult, or growing up, just a little.
It was in this subdued vein of thought that Kira and I reunited for a Friendsgiving weekend in Boston, and smiling upon our reunion, the weather was brilliant for the extent of our celebration. The Friday that I arrived was a full Beaver moon, and my guard was as up as my countenance was open to harness whatever lunar energy might be bestowed upon us. In our efforts to avoid any possibility of trouble, we stayed in for the night – Andy had sent along a lasagna dinner for us and aside from a quick post-dinner trip to the market for a sweet treat, we hunkered down in the cozy condo to officially kick off the Holiday Season 2024.
The next morning dawned with brilliant sunshine, manageable temperatures, and only a breeze by the tallest buildings. We ambled along Newbury Street, taking our time and doing some Christmas shopping (by far my least favorite kind of shopping to do) and by the time we needed a break it was time for lunch – hence the burger above, served in the lovely Bistro du Midi looking over the Boston Public Garden.
Our Friendsgiving dinner, scheduled for 75 Chestnut in Beacon Hill, wasn’t happening until 8 PM, so I finished the burger and we slowly made our way back to the condo for a siesta. The Southwest Corridor Park was still largely in bloom – lots of purple beautyberry and pink roses – along with the more seasonal holly accented by its bright scarlet fruit.
Before Kira had arrived, I’d conjured the will and energy to decorate the condo for Christmas. I hadn’t quite made up my mind to do it this year until that moment, and I’m glad I forced myself. Sometimes going through the motions that once brought happiness inspire the emotional and muscle memory that elicits joy through the back way.
Many happy holiday memories happened here, going all the way back to the 90’s, when I first lived here. Pulling a green sequin shirt out of the closet – a fun outfit from a dinner party long ago – I snapped a selfie behind the curtain while Kira took a two-hour nap.
Our Friendsgiving dinner at 75 Chestnut is worthy of a separate post, so that will come later. For now, the stage has been set for the holidays. Let it glow, let it glow, let it glow…
