This article of mine appeared in The Globe and Mail. I wanted to share it with you at this time of year when life is bustling and busy. May you find joy.

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I understand the appeal of showers. There is a functionality and practicality to stepping in, under and out. How efficient. How equally unimaginative and boring. In the shower, there is nothing to savour except getting the hell out from beneath 50 pounds per square inch of pulsating water. The fact that showers are measured in psi (as opposed to bubbles) speaks volumes.

But I am a splish-splash person. I relish the warm web of water that embraces you in the bathtub. I enjoy being able to put my head back, relax and wash away the day. I like taking my time, meandering in my mind and humidifying at my own pace.

 Baths were a way of life in our house. Growing up, showers were simply something other people took, mostly people we did not know. I kept this tradition up even after I moved out of my parents’ house, into a marriage and through the divorce that followed. But it wasn’t until years later that I discovered my understanding of the bath and its possibilities had been severely limited.

 It started with a gift of life-altering implications. Inside the present I discovered bubble bath, a bath bomb, exfoliating lotion and glove, and moisturizer. Two of these I’d heard of. The scent was lavender, which I associated with wrinkled aunts and my grandmother’s underwear drawer.

Turns out, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I filled the tub with steaming water, poured in the bubble bath and the most wonderful scent filled the room. I smiled, bent down and breathed deeply. Not my smartest move. Inhaling bubbles is not recommended. But it didn’t matter. I was happy. And about to get happier.

I stepped into the tub and unwrapped the bath bomb. This is never as easy as it sounds. They often come in a plastic sheath that has no identifiable opening and the tensile strength of tungsten. I persisted. The result was a round, heavenly little orb that exploded when it hit the water. Gently, of course, and with a colour infusion that filled the tub with a lovely glow. The exfoliating lotion and glove were next. I felt the resistance of the glove on my skin. Perhaps even a snag or two. Then, softness.

This time I spend with bubbles, bombs and bath salts is as much about ritual and reverence as it is about self-care and luxuriating. I realized this one blissful Saturday night as I was about to lower myself into a meringue of eucalyptus suds and my husband strolled into the bathroom, lifted the toilet lid, and got ready to whizz.

He won’t do that again.

There is a rhythm to my bathing ritual. There is a pattern and a process. Nothing is rushed, there is room to inhale and time to exhale. The rhythm has become more sophisticated over time. I once received a candle but admitted to my husband that I was unlikely to use it. He suggested I light it in my bathing shrine (and all was forgiven).

Today, my bathing shrine includes 10 burning candles: five small, three medium, two large. There is also a tealight candle that burns inside a Himalayan salt holder, another gift from a good friend. (I am blessed with friends who indulge my bathroom bliss.) In addition, I discovered aromatherapy. And there is music, most recently with the chirps and tweets of birds in the background.

I doubled down on my commitment to ritual and reverence when my husband and I decided to do some redecorating. My bathroom tub is now no ordinary tub. Who knew paradise came in porcelain? This tub has jets that shoot heated streams of water at select body parts, LED lights infuse a delicate glow in the water and there is a heated backrest. An aromatherapy unit sends little fragrant clouds aloft every 20 seconds. Poof!

The bathroom, and the tub in particular, is an expense I no longer attempt to justify. But I have spent some time trying to understand it. Logically I know that self-care is important. Taking time for oneself is time well spent. I’ve read the books (okay, an article or two) about the benefits of finding space from the pressures of daily life. But that sounds clinical and what happens in my shrine is anything but. It’s about connection – and distance. It’s about finding oneself – and forgetting about the self for a few hours. It’s about feeling pampered – and humbled.

One night, I turned on the tap, poured the juniper bubble bath and Epsom salts into the tub and waited to be enveloped in a fragrant mist.

And waited.

I did not have hot water.

Ultramar’s message centre assured me help was on the way. I felt a nudge of joy.

That did not last. The repair guy wasn’t ruining his Saturday night because some woman’s bath water wasn’t hot. He eventually showed up but he needed a new part. Bottom line: I had to wait several days.

I did not hide my disappointment. The repairman did not hide his indifference. I was not happy about the emergency call service fee that still left me without hot water. I think he flipped me the bird on his way out.

But Monday came, the water heater was fixed and the bath was full of hot, inviting H²0. But this time I breathed in more than the latest release from Bath and Body Works. I realized at that moment that my shrine, wrapped in relaxation and reverence, is really about gratitude. It’s about being thankful to be here and thankful to be. Gratitude isn’t just about being personally thankful and appreciative, though, it is about extending that thanks to the world around you. It’s about grace.

I have taken that insight to heart. I remind myself now to smell the rose water before I speak out; to soak up the moment before rushing to the next task.

And I have apologized to the man from Ultramar.

by Margaret Lucke

In 1955 cartoonist Herb Gardner (who later wrote the play A Thousand Clowns) published a cartoon that became a classic. You’ve probably seen it. The drawing shows two of his famous Nebbish characters slouching in chairs, their stretched-out legs resting on a table. The caption reads: “Next week we’ve got to get organized.”

I subscribed to that philosophy for a long time, but recently I decided that for me, next week needs to be now. A brand-new year is arriving in a couple of weeks, and I’d like to greet 2025 in an office that is clean and free of the clutter created by old projects, bad habits, and all that stuff I’m definitely gonna get around to reading and doing someday. In other words, I want it to look less like the one in the picture. So I’ve embarked on a project to make my workspace SOFT for the coming year. That’s my acronym for Sort, Organize, File and Toss.

Unfortunately, I’ve discovered that Get Organized is not a task one can zip through in an hour and cross off the to-do list. Oh no, it’s much more complicated than that. In case your next week has become now, here’s a quick guide to the nine stages of getting O.R.G.A.N.I.Z.E.D.

Obliviousness – “What do you mean, get organized? My work, my finances, my home, my office, and my life are chugging along fine just the way they are. Well, sort of. Well, sometimes. Besides, all of this clutter and mess is an expression of my creative, carefree spirit.”

Realization – “Oops. Missed another appointment. And another deadline. And I forgot to pay that bill, though it doesn’t matter cuz my bank account is overdrawn anyway. But what’s driving me crazy is that I can’t find my silk shirt or that vitally important piece of paper.”

Goal-setting – “By gosh, I’m gonna do it. I’m getting my desk, my closet, my calendar, my files, my finances, and my life in order – by next Thursday.”

Acquisition – “Let’s see, I’ll need some how-to books with tips on getting organized, time management, and personal finance. And some file folders and office supplies. Oh, and a few of those cute baskets and boxes for stashing stuff. Uh-oh, where did I put my credit card.”

Naps – “I’m feeling overwhelmed just thinking about this project. And exhausted from all of that shopping. Right now I really need get some rest. After that I’ll be raring to go, I promise.”

Industry – “Okay, okay, I’m buckling down and getting started. This worn-out mateless sock? Trash. This three-year-old magazine? Recycle. This book I’ve finished reading. Donate.”

Zeal – “Look at me! Isn’t this exciting? I’m getting so much accomplished. Here are some tips I’m finding helpful. Tip 1: Break this huge project into small steps. Tip 2: Get rid of stuff you don’t find useful, beautiful, or valuable. When in doubt, throw it out. Tip 3: Have a place for everything and put everything in its place. Tip 4: Write things down; don’t rely on your memory. Tip 5: Reward yourself when you accomplish something. (Mmm, ice cream!)”

Evangelizing – “You know, my friend, your life would go so much better if only you’d get organized.”

Dreaming – “Yay! I’ve finished my organizing project. I have my life under control, and I’ll never have to spend time on organizing again.”

I hope this insight into the process will help you get organized – if not now, then maybe next week.

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Don’t forget the Ladies of Mystery Cavalcade of Books! Each of us has books on special offer until the end of this month. The list includes my novels, Snow Angel and House of Desire, with Kindle editions available for just 99 cents! Buy a few as gifts for your mystery-loving friends—and for yourself! You can find the Cavalcade by clicking here.

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Wishing you and yours the happiest of holidays and a wonderful, well-organized 2025!