This season is full of extreme, and often contrasting, emotions. There are moments that are so tranquil, followed by sheer chaos. There are times when I feel so abundant and then experience a fear of loss that is in such deep contrast to the joy. There are moments when I am so full of life accompanied by an animalistic desire to hibernate. It can be lonely and festive, warm and chilling, all in one breath. It is a season of ghosts and angels.
I used to feel like filling up the lull between now and New Year’s with more noise, almost afraid to stop running because then I would experience an ending. This journey has taught me that there is no ending and this time is a gift to prepare for the year ahead. It is not about goals or resolutions . . . yet.
I was talking recently to a museum curator about her job at a museum in Florence. She described how she formulates collections first in her mind as she moves through content and artifacts. She spoke of filling in gaps and treasure hunting only when the vision for the collection is complete in her mind. I walked away thinking of the power of what she said and how we are all, in a sense, curators.
This hush before the New Year is my time to be the curator of my life. If I don’t winnow through the memories and experiences, then I am saying, “just put whatever you want in the display, I don’t really care.”
But I do care. I want to take this time to honor people that matter by dedicating their memory to my permanent collection. I want to sort, clean, frame and line with velvet, each pedestal that holds a moment worth savoring from this wonderful life.
Without the deliberate act of curating, how will I move forward with intention and resolution into the many moments before me?
