It should have been easy: Choose one of the writing prompts (courtesy of Creative Stretch #5) and write for 15 minutes. My problem is that I want every entry to be spectacular . . . and that standard paralyzes.
So I’m shunning my delusions of grandeur and getting busy with prompt 2: Free-write for 15 minutes about your favorite whatever (food, coffee, landscape, shirt, animal).
Get ready, people. Here is a 15-minute ode to my fiber optic snowman.
You know what I love about decorating for Christmas? It provides the annual opportunity to deck the halls with all manner of sparkle and tinsel and twinkle lights aplenty. It’s the one time of year that trinkets and tchotchkes don’t make me feel antsy.
And there is one piece in particular that has a place of honor on my fireplace mantle. It’s not a treasured family heirloom or a precious nativity scene. It’s an 18-inch resin snowman with fiber optic dazzle on his scarf and hat. (This is proof that I am not always a serious, brooding writer.)
Mr. Snowman followed me home from Target a few years ago. Better than a puppy, this little guy is quiet, stationary, and doesn’t make messes—he’s a keeper!
Each year, as I unload the Christmas decorations, Mr. Snowman is the first to get unpacked. His sparkle and light show spur me on to great decorating feats. (By feat I mean that I get it done.) And every year, I am grinning with joy when I plug him in and his little fiber-optic strands do their thing. I love the marketing fluff on the box: “changes color before your eyes” . . . like it’s magic. And it just may be.
The best way to appreciate Mr. Snowman is in a darkened room—which I make a point of doing each Christmas.
The changing colors bounce off the walls like a kaleidoscope, ever changing, like a sunset painted across a summer sky. Sunsets are enjoyed in the moment, for they cannot be captured and held. And so it is with Mr. Snowman—he comes out each year for just a little while, but he—and time—cannot be captured and kept. All must be enjoyed in the moment, savored and appreciated before time slips away.
Mr. Snowman’s happy countenance reminds me to take pleasure in little things, in pretty things. He reminds me to stop and enjoy the sparkle and tinsel and twinkle lights aplenty. After the decorating hubbub, it is such a shame not to stop and drink it all in. Sadly, Christmas is often busier than any other time of year, leaving but a few moments to be overwhelmed by the splendor.
This fiber optic wonder has quite a job each year: decorating cheerleader, sage, mood enhancer. He handles the pressure quite well. I think it’s due to his annual 11-month hibernation.
Mr. Snowman will be available for viewing through December if you’d like to meet him.
Read Other Creative Stretch #5 Posts
Leah at practicing joy
What did your 15 minutes of writing produce? Do share! Leave a link to your blog post in the comments—if you are a blog-less writer, I can feature your post here (free of charge). Watch for the next Creative Stretch—coming soon!