I don’t do much holiday shopping these days. We’ve settled on giving cash to the kids (which they very much appreciate) (and it’s easy, too, so there’s that). As for the rest of my gift-worthy friends and family? We’ve all mutually agreed to skip the gift exchanges, so that makes things even easier shopping-wise. But I still like to pick up a few little . . . somethings . . . for my kids to unwrap. (Once a mom, always a mom.)

So a couple of weeks ago, I found myself wandering the shops of downtown Kalamazoo, determined to “shop local,” looking for those few little . . . somethings. I was in a little shop full of unique, artsy kinds of things when something called to me – rather loudly – from the back of the shop. Something on a sale rack.

It was not a little . . . something. It was a rather obnoxious cardigan. Color blocked. Bright colors. Wild prints. Certainly not anything I’d ever buy for Erin or Lauren. I moved on.

But it kept calling out to me.

I kinda . . . liked it.
For myself.
It reminded me – on this particular dreary winter day – of my garden exploding in June. Color and pattern and . . . joy. It was a little outrageous. Very unexpected. And, suddenly, I had to have it.

So now . . .  I own a very bright, very outrageous cardigan.
A little piece of joy.
(And, yeah. Don’t tell Clara Parkes, but it’s acrylic.) (I’ll have to avoid open flames . . . )

And, well, it got me thinking.

This upcoming year feels . . . dark and dreary for many of us. I quite often feel like my best option might be to curl up in a corner and just Get Through It. But, well. Now I have this very outrageous cardigan. And I kinda feel like wearing it.

Maybe things are dark and dreary. But maybe it’s also time we counter all that darkness with . . . unexpected color and things that bring us feelings of . . .
Joy.
Energy and vibe.
Being alive.

I’m not suggesting that we all wear obnoxiously bright colors (although why not?), but I am suggesting that we pay attention to the quiet voices deep inside us. Those voices that niggle at us to try something new, to do something outrageous. And unexpected.

Why not . . . try making pottery, for example? Or picking up . . . say . . .  the ukulele? Maybe schedule a trip to see something you’ve always wanted to see. Like . . . say . . . The Cotswolds (which is something outrageous I’m actually planning to do next year). Why not . . . Take an art class. Knit something really challenging. Take up needlepoint. Or bonsai. Ride a bike. Or a horse. Paint a room in your house an unexpected color. Order the crazy cocktail that comes in a giant glass. Don’t hold back with the karaoke.

Just because the new year feels dark and scary . . . well. It doesn’t mean we can’t find some joy in it.

Dig deep!
Try something outrageous.

“I don’t want to be demure or respectable. I was that way, asleep, for years.”
– Mary Oliver, Blue Horses, from ‘I Don’t Want to be Demure or Respectable’

Come.
Fill your cup.