The Glowing Magic Of Christmas On An Old Fashioned Homestead

Last night, I stayed up late in the glow of Old Rusty, the wood stove. It cast it’s quivering light on the floor created by the fire bouncing around inside it. I could smell my signature Christmas fragrance blend from the cast iron kettle sitting on top of Old Rusty. It gave off fragrances of warm spices, fir forest, and sweet orange. Outside the world was freezing and dark. Everyone else had gone to bed. This precious magical moment in the glow of the firelight belonged only to me, and I hoarded it enjoying every blessed moment of soothing Christmas music, sipping on a cup of tea in the quiet low light. A moment of perfect peace following the preparation for, the hosting of Thanksgiving, the post Thanksgiving clean up, the Christmas decorating… There is about a week of chaos and over extending myself that happens at this time of year… But now, these blessed moments alone with the shadows and the magical glow belong to me alone. This moment refills my spent soul. I need it after the chaos like I need air to breathe and water to drink.

Now in my quiet moment, I can assess my work. I can remember what all this means to me. I can take a moment to view my life in Christmas decor. On that tree in the background are decorations that were on my grandmother’s tree as a girl and decorations from both my parent’s trees when they were young. The table cloth was handmade in the Alps, I picked it up during our years in Vienna before coming to Wildflower Farm and making it my world and life. I can think of the stories connected to the various ornaments. Some traveling from Finland a gift from my in laws in the Varkaus region of Finland. Some gifts from my own family…. A few picked up at another farm local to our area not long after settling here at Wildflower. All of them bring up sweet memories…. The log cabin and sauna by the most beautiful lake I have ever seen. Also the coldest…. Milk and honey from my childhood visiting my mom’s family in Connecticut. Memories of cracking nuts in my grandma’s dining room on The Hill in Newton and peppermint ice cream… Just a few of the memories that help rebuild what the past week has snuffed out.

The greenery we usually buy because by this time of year the woods here are pretty bare. I refuel my spirit by bringing the outside in. For me, it really helps to draw strength from nature when I feel as depleted as I tend to feel at the end of one holiday as it bumps against the start of the next one.

The warmth of Old Rusty and my tea does wonders for a moment of cozy that offers a safe haven to me and my temporary exhaustion. If I wasn’t too tired to think I might be asking in this perfect and cozy moment if I have any regrets over leaving the modern high paced world to live outside of it more independently than most. I might wonder, if I was in the city would this moment offer me the same magic that can cure all my ills? Or would the sound of cars passing steal my moment of peace? I might ask myself, would rushing around the mall make me a better person? Truth be told, I didn’t like myself very much in times past when I lived in a way that brought out the absolute worst in me. But in this quiet moment, I find as I sit here in the quiet with my needles clacking making a hat as a gift, that I am at peace in this glowing moment wrapped in darkness as if I were the only person in the world as no other hint of human beings can be found when looking outward into the night. It sends a little thrill down my spine. I realize, not only am I at peace, I have made peace with myself. Something not always easy to do. Especially not in a chaotic fast paced world and life where you run from yourself seeking what you need from others rather than finding them where they live within yourself.

Oh yes, I realize there is a world outside the one I choose to live in. But for this moment, it won’t weigh on me. I don’t yearn for it anymore like I used to when I first came to this place eleven years ago looking for safety from the allergies that were destroying my health. With no idea what I was doing, having never produced a single piece of food myself prior to my arrival here. No idea how to silence the spinning of my own brain… No idea who and what this place would create out of me. It is interesting how places and styles of living can write on the slate of who we are. I thought I knew who I was when I came here. I thought I would always be that person. I thought I might have bitten off more than I could chew and that this might be too hard a challenge to learn to live a new way. I thought so many things… Too many things. Everything was complicated. But here in this moment and in general it is all so very simple. Sun and rain make my food grow. And when everyone else is in bed, in the hush of the fire’s warmth… I can reflect on all of it…. On all things. I can connect for a moment to the universe’s vastness. Then somehow…. Everything seems less potent… Things are what they are. I am just a woman on a small farm taking a moment for me.

Soon. I will let the minute go to crawl into one of the books I am reading. It is about life on the Island of Soway in the Hebrides. I recognize so much of my own experience in it. Leaving everything for something different. Contending with new challenges…. The culture shock which perhaps isn’t entirely unfelt before for me given I have lived in and traveled so far from where I started before settling here. Still, living here it is different than city life anywhere in the world. Island On The Edge by Anne Cholawo, brilliantly discusses the kind of culture shock such massive changes to more self sufficient living can cause. The book feels for me a bit like going home. Like the early days here at Wildflower. oh some of the challenges are differnt. But seeking self sufficiency and to live outside it all is the same. It is the conditions where you are outside that can create the challenges. So there is where I find some of the differences. What a beautiful island and way of life. Letting go of the world beyond your space isn’t easy, but it can’t be helped when your days are so full. Then every so often…. You find a moment that you can steal and make your own. Like last night. And it is such sweetness.

Unfortunately, I must get up to get myself a new cup of tea. Which means a trip to the decorated kitchen to get the tea kettle off the stove where it whistles at me. I don’t want it to wake the whole house up.

The kitchen too is open to Old Rusty. So the warmth and cozy permeates this part of the house as well.

Hanging in the kitchen is my apron with a winter scene. Best apron ever. The one I typically use when using an apron. Above it hangs an Advent calendar that is full of chocolate. We take turns opening the doors. First our tenant who has become over the last couple years part of our family opens one, then my husband Dr. Farmer Moomin, gets giddy like a small child. He says nothing, he is far too Finnish to verbally express his excitement. With Finns, you must learn to read faces. The eyes will always tell you everything. They sparkle. That is how you know when Finns are off the charts excited. This is one of our Christmas traditions. Every year we get one of these calendars. 

People seem to forget sometimes I think, where I come from. I am the progeny of a pair of hippy Buddhists who produced me by midwife in their own bed in the Buddhist hippy commune they called home in the year 1980. Everyone has been shaking their head at what I have done here to “poor Tara.” They can’t wrap their brains around the combination of Christmas and a Buddhist boddhisatva. To me, this just looks like my childhood… Nothing odd or awkward about it at all. But the comments from the other two living here just keep coming… Usually on the subject of the incongruity of Tara and Christmas decor.  Oh well, this is one of those things they are just going to have to learn to live with. Without this combination, it feels like an altogether foreign holiday to me, doesn’t resonate at all. Why do others find this combination so awkward? Anyone know? I really don’t get it.

So I pour myself some tea and head back to my book stopping for just a moment to look through the window of the kitchen that opens onto the living area I have been quietly reflecting in.

For me, Christmas, has always been a cultural holiday rather than a religious one. Though for many it is the most important religious holiday on the books. But this is my blog so I am talking about the significance for me personally. I love Christmas for the lights the decorations, the moments like this one to reflect. But, it deserves to be mentioned…. It is not the only festival of lights this time of year that lights up the darkness. There are a number of others. All of them are beautiful and glorious traditions with valid foundations. All of them touch my heart. So whatever you celebrate by lighting up the darkness, I hope it is beautiful and full of love, light, and happiness.

Happy holidays all.
Thank you for spending a moment of cozy with me while I reflect,
and thank you for reading.
Amanda Of Wildflower Farm