Every year when January rolls around and I am left as the sole participant in the last of the Christmas undecorating, I find myself asking this question: “Is is worth it?”
When the ornaments come off the tree and are sitting in rows on the couch, I try to decide if it’s worth the effort of re-wrapping and storing them all properly in a box. Considering the number of times we’ve moved, is it worth it? Yes. For sure. Relatively few of them have been broken over the 10+ times they’ve been moved. The cat has broken more than the moves have.
When the poinsettia leaves start to curl and drop, I wonder if the research involved to save the plant will be beneficial in aiding in a diagnosis and subsequent rescue. That seems to be the environmentally conscious thing to do. Is it getting too much water? Not enough light? Is it too drafty? Is it worth it? No. Too much brain power and research involved in this one. Plus, after 2 months of red decor in every room, it’s time for a change. Out to the curb this tropical plant goes to die a shocking Colorado death in the frigid temperatures. (Perhaps the covered trash can is a better way to euthanize it.)
The ‘is it worth it’ quandary is especially relevant when it comes to the slightly mundane and tedious task of dealing with the lights. What has once served as a source of magic and ambiance now becomes… the dreaded Christmas lights. Once they are taken off the tree, the mantle, and the banisters, the questions begin. Do we keep them? Do we toss them? Do we untangle them? Do we repair them? Some of you are thinking, repair them? What in the world are you talking about? Well, allow me to elaborate.
Have you ever wondered about those little packets that come in your new Christmas light box that contain 3 tiny light bulb replacements and 2 fuses — little cylinders that look like barbells for a mouse? Maybe you’re the person who never noticed them or who threw out the little packets with the box. Well, I’m not one of those people. I keep everything. And I read directions. And I attempt to repair light strands. And I keep the replacement bulbs. I now own a quart sized bag of replacement bulbs containing every type of bulb base they’ve made since the early 2000s. Ok. I lived through Y2K. You never know when you might need a replacement mini light bulb.
In our family, when you are talking about 5,000ish lights and a very frugal adult with a big can-do attitude, the answers are not always so easy. But as I discovered today, it all boils down to that one simple questions: Is it worth it?
When deciding whether to untangle and roll the lights neatly onto the racks, is it worth it? Yes. Because when it’s time to re-decorate, no one wants to be untangling a giant, twisted pile of light strands.
Figuring out what to do with a completely non-functioning set of lights is easy. Is it worth it? No. Toss them out. Adios.
But the more tricky ones are the ones that are only half-lit. Dim-lit, if you’ll pardon my word play. I sat down to look at the piles of light misfits today, the ones that didn’t make the initial ‘roll them on the racks’ cut. As I surveyed one half-lit strand, I felt a sharp pain as I untangled them. On further inspection, I saw that one of the bulbs was broken off, revealing jagged shards of glass (well, maybe that’s an overstatement), as well as the filament that gave me a mini-jolt of electricity as I touched it. Aha! Perhaps this is the reason for the outage. I asked myself the question, is it worth it? Replacing one bulb? Yes of course it was worth the effort to see if I could repair the strand.
First, I unplugged the cord before attempting this feat, a lesson I learned years ago from a mistake I made while attempting to install dimmer switches. Utilizing my impeccable skill at removing the insert and carefully pulling out the broken bulb, I replaced it fully in a matter of seconds (not counting the time it took to get my glasses so I could actually SEE the bulb). After re-plugging the strand, voila!! The entire strand was now shinning brightly. Instant gratification. And my total investment? One and a half minutes plus a ‘free with purchase’ replacement bulb, retrieved from my quart Ziploc bag collection. The sense of prowess I felt as the circuit was completed, the power was restored, and all the bulbs glowed brightly was mildly euphoric. Perhaps I might aspire to be an electrician for my new mid-life career.
Then, I looked down at the remaining half-lit strands and asked myself the question: is it worth it? Is it worth the time and effort to pull and replace 50 bulbs to see which one is not working? Is it worth it? No. Absolutely not. That is especially true because I recently bought 5 boxes of brand new lights for $1.36 on clearance at Walgreens. My time is certainly more valuable than $1.36.
In addition to the Christmas decoration tear down, January also happens to be the time to reflect on the new year, looking back to see what you’ve accomplished and looking forward to set new goals. If you’re like me, those recollections can look a little half-lit, just like the strands of lights that were lying on my living room floor. I’ve had a bit of trouble this year looking back and looking forward. I keep seeing the unlit side of the strand. The goals from the previous year that didn’t get accomplished. The disappointments of dreams that were never realized. It seemed at first like 2017 was just going to be a continuation of 2016. Same old, same old.
But we’re not talking about $1.36 light bulbs now. We’re talking about aspirations. Dreams. Bucket lists. Relationships. Personal goals. Still, the same question kept coming up, ‘is it worth it?’
When I looked back at personal goals that I had set last year that did not get fulfilled, I had to look at why. Poor choices on my part. Priorities on other things. Intimidation. Indecision. Failures along the way. Is it really worth it? Is it worth the effort, the energy, the potential failure again to pursue these dreams? I decided, Yes. It is worth it. I pushed past the discouragement and set out to begin again. It wasn’t easy. In fact, it was pretty darn hard. It still is hard. And it might continue to be hard. But is it worth it, the possibility of fulfilling those goals and dreams? Yes. Absolutely. I transferred several goals from the old list to the new list for 2017.
In this process, I decided to add a few new things, like a long held dream of learning to scuba dive. With a little bit of potential energy that propelled me into motion, I started the process of figuring out how this dream could become reality. I looked into diving classes. I found a doctor who could help with my medical limitations. I called him. As I proceeded through the phone call, a vastly different reality began to emerge: scuba diving was not going to become a reality for me. I have asthma. This doctor, one of the premier hyperbaric undersea doctors in Denver, told me as much. After asking me 5 simple health questions, he explained what would happen to my body underwater with even the slightest wheeze. Then he posed THE question: Is it worth the very real risk of death (in my case) for a recreational activity? Is it worth it? Well, when you put it that way, no. Absolutely not. As I hung up the phone, holding back tears, I felt the sadness at the death of my dream threaten to overwhelm me. I had hoped for a different result when I phoned the doctor. It was too early in the year for dashed dreams.
Then I sensed it. That same question edged into my consciousness, overtaking the sorrow. Remembering friends who recently dealt with much more serious issues — life threatening disease, death of a loved one, loss of home to fire, divorce — I asked myself about the sorrow that I was tempted to give in to for the loss of a recreational activity. Is it worth it? Is it worth the grief? No. It is not. Is it even worth any significant disappointment? There are so many things in life that I can participate in that will cause as much or more joy as this one. No. It is definitely not worth the emotional expenditure that would come in giving myself to dismay and the downward spiral that might certainly follow behind it.
I’m not in denial. I’m in forward motion. I made a quick adjustment rather than lingering on the temptation for sadness. I’m looking at the strand of lights and saying, this one thing, this one dream that I can’t have, is like one little broken light bulb. I can easily take it out and replace it with something else, rather than letting it short circuit the rest of the glow. Once it’s removed and replaced, this broken light that interrupts the flow of power, then the whole light strand will sparkle again.
As I look to decide how I will spend my resources in 2017 — my time, my money, my energy, my thoughts, my effort, my emotions, my prayers — you can bet I will be asking myself that same question and remembering the strands of lights. Is it worth it? Many times the answer will be yes. Often the answer will be no. I hope I have the courage to listen honestly to the answers and live accordingly.
Now I’m off to finish packing up the Christmas lights. After that, I’ll tackle the half-lit Christmas lights that are attached to the garland!