The Energy Work of Decking the Halls
Typically, yesterday and today we dedicate ourselves to decking the halls for Christmas. Yesterday, I was exhausted. And so today became the day - the one day - to make it happen.
While it’s a merry event complete with seasonal music* and perhaps an eggnog or peppermint-kissed hot chocolate (from scratch, of course), it’s also a lot of work… albeit joyful work.
And it’s more than that, when we peek beneath the surface.
It’s a lot of [joyful] work because as non-Christmas décor is removed to make way for Christmas décor, cleaning is undertaken. Dusting (argh!) is undertaken. Energy work is undertaken.
The energy work is important because it’s very much like turning on a breaker switch that overlaps another breaker switch’s purpose.
We bring the subtle and not-so-subtle energies of Yule online and invite in all that comes with it (Winter included), even while Autumn continues her sacred dance.
And we do this because the lights and the decorations evoke deeply sentimental panoramas that glow with hope and peace.
Having them in place for only a week or two doesn’t feel like enough. So, we have them in place from immediately after Thanksgiving through New Year’s Day or just past it.
In addition to facilitating the delicate balance of those two energy systems, there’s also need to clear energy from Autumn up to that point. And there’s need to clear energy from Thanksgiving.
The clearing is achieved through intention and energy work. If guided, I’ll put my pendulum to work toward that practice.
It’s an important practice to support navigating the remainder of Autumn, the dawning of Winter, the rest of the holiday season and the end of calendar year.
Dining Room
The dining room is where the mantle is, and so where the stockings are hung “by the chimney, with care.” It’s also where both creches - nativities - reside. They’re completely different and equally precious
The wooden nativity comes from my stepfather’s family.
The plaster nativity comes from my mom’s marriage to my dad.
Living Room
The living room is where the tree resides, and also where the lighted village resides.
My parents accumulated the lighted village over many years. There’s something so soothing about its glow at night when the tree provides the only other source of illumination.
As for the tree itself… Last year we moved away from cutting down trees at a local Christmas tree farm when there were shortages from drought conditions and over-cutting.
While the tree is obviously artificial, there are several pluses:
It doesn’t require daily watering, which saves our well water for more important tasks.
It doesn’t require strategic anchoring to keep it balanced and upright.
It supports heavier ornaments like a champ.
It doesn’t shed needles… or stowaway baby spiders.
The ornaments it displays are an accumulation from the past 43 years - with one notable exception: a beautiful, tiny red bell near the top of it.
The bell was created and painted for my stepfather the year he was born. (His birthday is a little over two weeks before Christmas.) It’s been placed on his Christmas tree for 86 years, this year.
Wait! There’s more.
We also bring Christmas into the kitchen and the bathroom. I bring it into my bedroom and office, too.
We bring it outdoors through the stringing of lights around the perimeter of the house. In addition, we bring it through the hanging of a large lit wreath on an expanse of exterior wall and a smaller unlit wreath on the front door.
When the halls are duly decked, we stop and breathe and allow ourselves to soak up the vibration of the Christmas season as it exists without the consumerism.
Being present in that vibration is so healing. Dusk becomes my absolute favorite time of day, because that’s when the Christmas lights awaken to illuminate the senses in their particular way.
There’s magic and mystery folded within the practices of decking the halls for the Yuletide and then synchronizing with its energy.
It’s something I delight in, and hope to for all my human days.
Blessed be.
