Christmas is the prime example. I'm still anticipating the Christmases we celebrated with my husband's family when our son was growing up. As there were just five of us, we gave each other lots of presents to make up for our meager numbers. Shopping wasn't limited to those hectic days before Christmas, we gathered year round, little things like paper cocktail napkins or new kitchen towels and lots of etceteras. When it came time to wrap, the process was overwhelming, not just in sheer numbers, but in the artful way we put it all together. No ordinary paper for us or stick on bows, these were packages with handmade cards and pizzazz. The wrapping became part of the present. Unveiling took hours as we ooed and aaahed in front of a roaring fire. It was wonderful, special and absolutely exhausting.

Life is different now, so hectic, so scheduled for our young ones. Who has the time or desire to put such a Christmas together? Who wants the pressure of being presented with one, which on some level demands reciprocity. No one, not even me. But, no matter, I persist. It's a habit.

I made a list of what's stashed in my closet - the colorful trowel, yes, the cocktail napkins, the dish towels etc., etc. Though they are small things, it's too much. And that wrapping paper I just printed for Kabubble, so cute, so tempting. I'm going to resist the impulse to print it for my use. Too much work. Things change, it's time I changed too.

We don't need to hold on to anything," says the Buddhist Monk during the program I attended. "Things only have the solidarity we endow them with. Holding on is suffering, letting go is peace."