The nutcracker
Anastasia
Sir gwain and the green knight
The adventure of Christmas pudding by Agatha Christie
A Christmas carol (duh)
The snow queen fairytale
Genesis
The polar express
The little match girl
Murder in the orient express
The gift of the magi
The adventure of the blue carbuncle by sir Conan Doyle
How the grinch stole Christmas (I don’t care how old you are)
The lion the witch and the wardrobe (I don’t think there’s a list where this would ever not fit)
I came to a realization the other day. The phrase, “it’s that time of year” is suitable to proceed any sentence and make sense. 100% of the time you follow up what someone says with, “it’s that time of year”, they’ll nod in agreement and know exactly what you mean. Because apparently it’s ALWAYS that time of year. For example:
Person a: my banana went bad on the counter in just two days.
Person b: it’s that time of year.
Or
Person a: my Christmas tree shed all over my floor.
Person b: it’s that time of year.
It works all the time.
It’s so calming
I will always treasure The memory of sitting on the porch, the cold air nipping at my nose and a warm drink in hand. Complete peace before the chaos of the day.
And finally I can drown in something that isn’t my stupid thoughts of how things can go wrong and how I’m going to mess stuff up.
And the smell. Good glory, the smell is amazing. Fresh air, newly cleansed, crisp and so utterly perfect it almost stings to inhale. The smell of starting over. The smell the growth. The smell of everything becoming more alive amidst the storm.
And The sound is music to my ears, more comforting than a thousand lullabies. The gentle, rhythmic thrum of rain on grass or on the roof, almost as if you are hearing the heartbeat of the sky.
And it somehow comforts me as I watch the grey come and go. The heavy clouds come and leave. And no matter how chaotic and dark the storm, the sky still manages to pull itself together and becomes a vibrant shade of blue. It may take it an afternoon or even a few days but it will return to its original hue.
The good old days are not a phase in life in which things magically are perfect. It’s something you’re actively doing and creating as you live each day. Last week could have been the good old days if you lived them to the fullest. This last weekend even. Your life can be comprised of thousands upon thousands of “good ol’ days” but not if you continue to spend your life reminiscing of a time you thought things were perfect. The Good ol Days are now. The sooner you learn that nostalgia is a dirty rotten liar who insists things were better than they actually were, the better off you’ll be.
Learn to recycle emotionally.
Turn the energy that you use towards disliking yourself to building yourself up.
The energy you use to envy others, use it to be thankful
The energy you use to hate your enemies could turn into love towards those closest to you.
Regret of the past can turn into the hope of the future.
All emotions take energy. Make sure you’re putting yours into the right ones.
When I was younger, I wasn’t worried. Not In the least.
I would wake in the morning with a light feeling in my chest and a carefree air about me. I would set out armed with a stick and go play in the woods and in the mud in search for adventure.
I would crawl through culvert pipes and pretend they were entrances to magical worlds, rabbit holes to far off places.
I would climb up to the highest part of a tree, and where the branches would meet at the center was a throne that I imagined was made for me. I would sit there and overlook my kingdom and pretend I could talk to the birds as the flitted past, giving me news of the worlds beyond.
Then I would return home and write of my adventures in a notebook and draw maps of the new kingdoms I had conquered and discovered. Page after page I would fill with drawings and notes, describing the magic that I had found that particular day.
But that’s not the way things are anymore. Now I’m worried, scared even, bogged down by fear and perfectionism. The stories don’t come as easy as they used to and the feeling of lightness and the glow of curiosity no longer radiates in my chest.
Many times I have rested my pen on a blank page only to be met with a emptiness of mind and spirit. And on the rare occasions that I would actually write something, I would return to it, and rip its pages away because it was not perfect.
I still relished the feeling of pages beneath my finger tips and the smell of new notebooks but I could never bring myself to fill them with the same colorful stories that I used to create so many years ago.
But there came A Day I was tired of it. Tired of being perfectionistic. For my fear of creating something substandard drove me to create nothing at all.
So I took with me a journal, perfect and empty, on a walk. More times than I’d like to admit, I had wanted to fill this book with a great many number of ideas and drawings but I could never bring myself to mark up it’s crisp, empty pages.
So I walked to a pond’s edge and looked out upon its reflective surface, unblemished and smooth like a mirror. At its shore, I tied a string around the book and left a long tail that I could hold onto. And then I cast it as far as I could into the water.
I reeled it in, the journal now a soggy pulp of pages. So I took it home and dried it.
It was not longer perfect. The pages were wrinkled and the cover was beginning to peel. But that was alright.
So I set it on my desk and opened it and began to write.
Often, when people are asked if they can make difference, their minds turn to big things. I could become famous and advocate for just causes. I could become a scientist and make big, important discoveries that aid the entirety of mankind. I could become a scholar and help spread knowledge throughout the world. And while all of these things are fine, statistically speaking, many of us aren’t going to be famous. Many of us are going to work jobs that many people consider menial. And I am of the firm belief that there is no shame in that. Because I have learned making a difference isn’t just about the big things but the little things.
The little choices that we make day to day are how we make a difference. Little decisions that pile up. Little things that make the world just a little bit better. Things that make the world just a little bit brighter.
Little choices like choosing to be kind. A smile will go a long way. And while a bad attitude is contagious, the same can be said for a good attitude. Small gestures of kindness can completely flip someone’s day around. You never know how you might impact someone, by simply being kind.
Little choices like choosing to be honest. The dishonest may seem like they obtain their goals quicker and easier, but in the end, your integrity matters, even if it’s just to you. Because when you choose to obtain your goals by being honest and working hard, even when others aren’t watching, it allows you to appreciate the value of hard work. Make your promises and handshake mean more then pen and paper. Show people that hard work and honesty is worth it in the long run.
Little choices that allow you to better yourself. Choices like choosing to get up early. Choices like choosing to work out instead of watching TV. And of course, eating healthy. But bettering yourself is not just limited to physical achievements. You can better yourself emotionally by choosing to let things go and choosing to be happy. Choices like these not only make your world brighter, but can encourage others. Because the quicker the world realizes that everyone has the choice to be happy, the better the world will become.
Little choices like choosing to support what you believe in and standing up for it. When you believe in something, stand up for it. But in doing so, don’t keep your ears and heart closed. Listen to the opposing position. Think about what you believe and test it to see if it holds true. And if it does, hold onto it and support it. Not just with your words, but your actions. Too many people believe in their position, but not to extent of actually doing something about it. Their belief will never make it beyond their phone screen and therefore never make a difference. Take what you believe in and act. Make your beliefs not only posses your mind, but your hands.
This all goes to say, that the sooner you realize that a big difference comes from a lot of little choices, the more likely you are to make a difference. Big differences are composed of many little events, many little people, and many little sacrifices. This is why I am of the firm belief that anyone can make a difference.
It’s the second week of October. I’m at a tea shop in the morning. We have just an hour before we open. Trans Siberian orchestra blares as we are putting up Christmas decor and lights. The air smells of cinnamon because the kitchen is cooking something amazing. The weather outside is nippy but it’s warm and cozy inside and we’re all wearing our favorite sweaters. I guess Christmas decided to come early, at least for today. I think I’m okay with that.
Life is good.
2. Natasha Bedingfield – Unwritten
3. Faith Marie – Little Girl
4. Sam Tsui – Make It Up
5. Ava Max – So Am I
It’s the third week in October. My and my friends are in a park. The leaves on the trees are a fireworks-like display of red and orange hues, soon sent spiraling and tumbling through the air. The air has a distinct chill but it’s warm in Golden sunshine. Me and my friends walk the trails, sometimes talking, sometimes silent, listening to the crunch of leaves underfoot.
Now we’re under the pavilion sitting at a picnic table covered in a red and white checkered table cloth that I brought. We pass a cinnamon flavored coke around as we talk about silly and stupid things. Life is good.
By the Brooke 