The Tension of the Holidays

Photo by Agê Barros on Unsplash

Hey Magic Makers, how are we doing? Are we remembering to drink water, eat something besides partially consumed Dino nuggets over the trash can like a Christmas Goblin? Are we about to put our spouse on the naughty list without telling them why? If your week has looked anything like mine, you might be careening toward the holidays while hanging on by a piece of tinsel. I’ve been caring for two sick kids and then frantically running around the house every time they are napping to try to finish one of the many tasks I have on my to-do list before next week. It can be easy to forget to exhale this time of year, as it feels like we are only adding to the list, not crossing anything off (I’m looking at you, elementary school, who just sent out an email today about adding a SPIRIT WEEK next week before break…).

I want to take a moment to acknowledge the pressure this season holds and also talk about another tension that exists in this season. I spoke last December about what mom joy looks like around the holidays, and this year I want to dive deeper into finding joy around the holidays when it feels far from us. So set down your to-do list for a second; you can check it twice after taking a moment for yourself to reflect on where you are this holiday season.

Every Christmas song out there talks about things being merry, bright, and joyful. We greet each other with, “Merry Christmas!” “Happy Hanukkah!” or “Happy Holidays,” all with a big smile and a full heart. There are stories of generosity, goodwill, and being transformed by the “spirit of Christmas.” These are all good and positive things that add a lot of light to our lives. But there is another reality in this season that we don’t often talk about. Christmas and Hanukkah take place in the darkest time of the year. It’s cold, we’re often sick, and it’s dark at 5 PM. Our bodies are screaming for us to slow down, burrow under a giant blanket, and rest, but the world is shouting at us to do more, be in more places, and make more memories. Sometimes this Christmas spirit can pull us out of our hibernation in positive ways, but sometimes it can feel like a constant tension, or a bar we’re not meeting, when our inner world doesn’t match the outside world’s expectations. There’s an assumption of joy that can add pressure and guilt to a difficult period. Maybe you are missing someone who used to make the holidays magical, perhaps you are feeling the ache for something you’ve longed for, and this season brings that longing to the surface as everyone else posts about having it all. Maybe you are just tired and are longing for slowness and quiet, but feel like there are too many expectations on you to do the opposite. Regardless of what you are dealing with, I want to make some room for it. I want you to know that it’s okay to not be caught up in the Christmas Spirit; there is room for that too. When we leave space to acknowledge that tension, the pain, grief, or longing, we can soothe the part of our soul that longs to be noticed.

My mom died 5 years ago, and Christmas has felt hard ever since. She was our Magic Maker. She brought us all together, and now the absence of that feels blinding. I have had a constant pull between wanting to engage in everything wholeheartedly for my kids while also feeling the weight of grief press down on me year after year. Today, a longtime friend texted asking how I was holding up this year, and I replied, in line with how I've been feeling lately: “I actually felt really hopeful this week that the ratio of gratitude and joy to grief and pain seems to be tipping positively.” It’s true! The grief is still there, and I find myself emotional around the things that remind me of her, but I’ve also noticed the desire and ability to engage and be present is more palpable than in years past. I know that tension will always be there, and I will do my best to leave room for both instead of fighting against the uncomfortable burden of grief.

I don’t have five easy steps for getting in the holiday spirit for you, and I would mute anyone who tells you they do. My only word for you is to listen to where you are, and know that it’s okay. You won’t be there forever, and it’s OK for it to take precedent this year (and however many years you need!). Allow for stillness and slow, and you may find yourself with a little more room to enjoy the feelings of the holidays. And if you can’t, that’s also okay. Be tender with yourself, my Magic Makers; we can’t pour from an empty cup.