The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be his head wasn’t screwed on just right.
It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all,
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.

I’ve felt my heart shrinking lately. I can hear it rattle round my chest, hard and tinny like a coin in a jar. Unlike the Grinch’s, it didn’t start that way. In fact, like all human hearts, it sat snug and soft in its brand-new case, growing with every cuddle. Then siblings and tiffs and blocked desires and disapprovals and dishonesties and school yards and jealousies and maths and betrayals and spots and non-invitations came its way. But the holes they nibbled still didn’t stop its growth. Recently, though, disappointments, fear and uncertainties have gobbled great chunks.

Time for some cardio. Here’s the plan:

  1. Give up the grumbles, live up the good.
  2. When too busy or bored to continue the phone chat … continue the phone chat.
  3. Sleep.
  4. Listen, really listen, to Trumpeters, Brexiters, nutty righters, loony lefters, fanatics – religious and not – and dig beneath the words to find the good intent.
  5. Zip it.
  6. Be scared but do it anyway.
  7. Be kinder to crockery and daughters.
  8. Join in the dawn chorus.
  9. Thank God for the wrinkles in walnuts and ears.
  10. Stop procrasti-writing, and visit my lonely neighbour.