It's not because I don't enjoy holiday decorations. I do. As long as they are in other people's homes. Or in decorating magazines. But I personally don't decorate for Christmas anymore.
There are a couple of reasons but I think the biggest, and the one I least understood for a long time, is because I am an introvert who draws a great deal of strength and serenity from my home. I thought I was a cranky over-extended grouch, but what I realize now is that my home is my center, the place where I recharge my battery. Disruptions here of any sort prevent me from getting that re-charge. I love my "stuff", I love where it is, and I don't like dislocating it even temporarily. Not to say I won't rearrange my "stuff" from time to time, but I don't like to do it on a set time schedule. I know things are not important, but I enjoy and appreciate my pretty porcelain dishes and opalescent glassware and the framed pictures of turn of century kids on ponies; they give me visual pleasure and serenity in the way they are arranged. I crave order and predictability in as many areas of this crazy life as I can possibly have control over. It's just damned emotionally exhausting to move all that stuff around, replace it with things that never quite work out in a particular space, and then relocate it just a few weeks later.
Decorating the inside of my house for Christmas is not any fun for me from a practical standpoint because there is nowhere to put a tree without a major relocation of furniture here at the Museum of Old Oak Furniture. Moving said Old Oak Furniture means storage of said relocated furniture, and space for said storage does not exist. And then I have to move the inventory of the Home for Slightly Chipped Yet Still Beautiful Bavarian China from the tops of the Old Oak Furniture, and...well, you get the picture. The whole thing becomes a production of moving things from Point A to Point B, etc. that I frankly find exhausting. Not exhausting physically but psychically (sp?). There is a flow and organization to this small house that works very well, and a random tree poking out awkwardly just screws that all up. There's that introvert-order-serenity thing again.
We don't have much company. Heck, we never have company. And we live at the end of a private dead end road. Most GPS systems can't even find our address. So what's the point of going crazy decorating, inside or out? Who's going to see it, the squirrels? (That would be the outside decor, not the inside. Just wanted to clarify.)
And then there is the clean up. Ugh. I am one of those who cannot stand holiday decorations in my house once the holiday is over. They look so sad and drab on the 26th. I cannot wait to put them away. Can. Not. Wait. I get grumpy and squirrelly with anticipation of the picking up, the packing away, and the restoration of order.
On occasion, I feel like I have had to defend my lack of holiday decorating to others. I hope if you read this, and you know someone who doesn't decorate for Christmas, you'll take a moment to consider why they might not decorate for the holiday. We each need our own way to maintain our serenity in this crazy world, and mine just happens to be by keeping my stuff in its place.
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