This last Sunday, I went to go cut down a Christmas tree.
Alinn@ and I have been cutting down our Christmas trees for maybe five years now. Fatherhood’s not been kind to my ability to remember things.
Before that, like many others, I went to Home Depot to pick up a tree.
It’s been incredibly inconvenient to cut down my own tree.
There’s a Home Depot 5 minutes from my house. I used to go to a U-Pick kiwi fruit farm that was over an hour away to cut down my tree. Now, I go to a Christmas tree farm 30-40 minutes up the mountains.
The Home Depot has a station where they stuff your Christmas tree through a hoop that encases the tree into a neat net. The Christmas tree farm has a station where they give me a length of twine and say, “Merry Christmas.”
The Home Depot has a team of people to help hoist the tree on top of your car while you comfortably sit in the driver’s seat with the heat on. At the Christmas tree farm, you struggle to push the tree up on top of your car while you wonder to yourself why you didn’t cut a smaller tree.
But it’s the very inconvenience of cutting down my own tree that gets me to keep coming back. Well, that and the annual groupon that Alinn@ gets to cut the cost of the tree in half.
Because it’s inconvenient to go, it’s become an event for our family to invite others to join in on.
Because it’s inconvenient to cut a tree, I appreciate the tree more when I see it in my living room.
Because it’s inconvenient to bring it home, I got a funny story about how my tree was levitating off of my roof while I was flying down highway 17.
Plus, the tree lasts longer. It smells better. And I felt like a more productive, accomplished, manly person (even if I got tired halfway through cutting the tree).
All this to say, sometimes inconvenience has its perks. It slows me down. It often forces me to be fully present in the present. And sometimes it gives me the opportunity to invite other people to live life with me.