My Charlie Brown Christmas Tree year
Here is a picture of our Christmas tree this year. Bought in a driving rainstorm, not yet unfurled from its shipping ties, we brought home the first thing we thought would make do. Necessity is not always the mother of invention. Sometimes it’s also the mother of ill-advised decision-making.
Every year we purchase a beautiful fresh-cut pine tree so we can decorate it with family love and cheer, Christmas tunes, and a bit of eggnog. Then we make a declaration that it’s “the most beautiful tree we have ever had!”
However, this year has been a “Charlie Brown Christmas tree” year.
I have tried to deny it, but as the year 2020 comes to a close, my spindly tree reminds me of this year’s true nature. Some years and some trees are simply not “the most beautiful we’ve ever had,” no matter how deeply we swim in our most positive vibes to try to make it so.
What’s one to do? Two of my personal favorite tactics are to feel sorry for myself, or perhaps go in the opposite direction by trying to spin tales of fancy to whitewash a bad situation. Nevertheless, this year is different. Maybe it’s time to learn to love my Charlie Brown Christmas tree.
Same goes for this year we are about complete. Here’s to the year 2020! (Says no one). It’s not hard to break down the year, or rather, to admit that it might have broken us down. What about these descriptors: confusing, infuriating, dangerous, boring, lonely, disappointing, uncertain? I could go on, but let’s just call it what it is: UGLY.
Funny how I settled on the same descriptor for my spindly Christmas tree: it was just plain ugly. Ugly is subjective, but also instinctive — an instinct borne of our desire for proportional uniformity, tradition, and perfection. We have in our mind what a perfect Christmas tree, or a perfect year, should look like. Trees are easier to trim to the perfection we seek. But an entire year? Not so much.
I typically look for a tree which is fragrantly fresh, like it was just brought down from the snowy mountain, direct to my living room. Branches are full and uniformly shaped into a wonderful pyramid, with a little pinch of a branch on top, perfect for placing my crowning angel as the topping we use every year. Anything other than this is not quite right.
This year our Charlie Brown tree has given us the opportunity to challenge ourselves. Either we go through the season staring at its “lack,” and chalking it up as par for the course in a dismal year, or we can consider turning the entire matter on its head. Maybe our tree is a different kind of Blessing in disguise?
When I brought our tree home, I initially said, “I hate this tree!” But for goodness’ sake, it’s a Christmas tree — how can anyone hate such a thing, no matter how out of spec it appears? I asked myself: is this any way to live?
Have my expectations gotten the better of me?
There was this famous actress from the 1970’s, Lauren Hutton. While she was considered one of the most beautiful women in the world, she was also famous for the giant gap between her two front teeth. She was indeed beautiful and interesting, and I could not help but wonder, “How did she get that gap between her teeth?” What was considered an “imperfection” became her signature feature, her calling card. We can learn to love imperfection.
It’s been two weeks since we put up the tree, and you know what? I am kind of liking it more each day. At first I hated the gaps between the branches which made the tree look so imperfect. But in those gaps we put more ornaments and lights. The gaps became little platforms in which we placed even more remembrances of family holidays past, as well as symbols of the season — both spiritual and secular. This became a greater abundance of reminders as to why we celebrate this time of year. When we brought our tree home, it had an odd, asymmetrical shape. No matter how much we trimmed, it leaned and jutted. We have come to accept this asymmetrical reality because this is a proper 2020 tree — it’s imperfectly shaped. Perfect!
The Blessing we receive as we view the tree from a distance is the Blessing of a small chuckle because sometimes our lives are indeed slightly out of shape and out of sorts. It’s not just gallows humor to occasionally allow ourselves to smile about this truth.
After all: isn’t this the true nature of life and reality, no matter our expectations?
I collect sayings about the duality of the universe and our path through it:
“Some days you eat bear, other days bear eats you.”
“Sometimes you are a Louisville slugger (a type of bat), other times, you are the ball.”
And my favorite, from Rudyard Kipling’s poem, “If-”:
“…Meet with Triumph and Disaster,
and treat those two imposters just the same.”
This is why I have come to love my Charlie Brown Christmas tree: It has given me the gift of perspective. Not all trees, or years, are going to be perfect. Some will even be a little bit ugly. I am not saying I want to buy another ugly tree next year, or go through another 2020, but if I could take any gift away from the waning days of this long year, it would be that in the future, I will better appreciate prettier trees and kinder years.
In the meantime, allow me to wish you all “Happy Holidays,” and a offer a big, fat GOOD RIDDANCE TO THE YEAR 2020!
