Thriving in the Holidaze
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose…or perhaps the song should pair the lilting melody with lyrics along the lines of…trauma from our family of origin bubbling up, pressure to be perfect, comparison to others on social media and the Hallmark channel. Afterall, that’s many people’s experience of the holiday season and the holy trifecta of mental health overwhelm. It is also why the holidays tend to be therapists busiest time of year. From a week before Thanksgiving to Jan 1st, my inbox is full from messages from clients I haven’t spoken to in years reaching out, increasing frequency of appointments, and an influx of new client requests. If you are struggling right now, I cannot underscore it enough, you are not alone.
The holidays are hard. Winter wraps us in short days, long nights, nature’s way of calling us to slow down and rest. Yet ironically the to-do list is the longest: buy gifts, book tickets, plan meals, holiday parties, kid’s events, decorate, the list is endless on top of regular life, all supposed to be squeezed into days that are hours shorter than summer. How?
Add in the creeping in of the next year right around the corner, paired with lurking psychological pressure to reset into a brand new “you” in the new year compared with an oft unkind self-assessment of another year gone by. This is an age-old, passed down through the generations, recipe for suffering.
What to do?
Here is my core question to clients around the holidays: if you could boil Christmas, in my personal case (or please insert any other holiday that you or your family celebrates) into a single essence, a twenty-minute snapshot of joy, what would you be doing? Perhaps it’s decorating gingerbread houses, or snuggled watching a movie, eating pie, etc. There is no right or wrong answer here, but it is your answer, your truth of what you WANT to be doing, figure that out then go do that thing. I hear lots of parents expressing a desire to make everyone happy for the holidays. However, happiness is something we are personally responsible for, articulating our wants and needs and letting others do the same, is critical. You cannot make everyone else happy without somehow disappointing yourself.
Tradition can be a mask for “have to narratives” subconscious beliefs and biases that there is a “right” way to do something, a thought that generates a giant rut. Think about the energy and intention behind anything you are doing, it matters. Part of why the holidays are so stressful is a vast amount of pressure, time constraints and narratives of “have to,” floating around without clarity of intention: I have to get my family a gift, or I have to go to this school play, or I have to send out cards. When we frame anything up as “I have to” do something, we lose our agency in the process, and simply become a soldier pushing away under the command of a broader narrative of pressure to fall into line with societal expectation.
Why do you do most of the things that you do around the holidays? Is it because we “always do this” or you “have to” or because you actually want to? I remember my first Christmas away from home. I tried to make a dish that my family always had on Christmas morning. When I think back, I made it because that’s what we always did, in the rut of a tradition there was little space for creativity under “have to” mindset. I totally botched the recipe, it led to huge laughs, and I haven’t made it since. The cruel irony is when we buy into the narrative that we “have to” do anything, we end up missing the whole point of the holidays, and the joy that is possible in the micro moments versus the overall stressful, and often unsuccessful, attempt to generate a peak ideal experience.
The Present is the Gift:
The other night, I was busily typing away at my computer. Grizzly, our pitbull, barked and pawed at Ben, wanting to “crack nuts.” Hah! We had been gifted a bag of whole mixed nuts and my husband had been cracking them with a hammer in the evenings, one for him, one for Grizzly. It was the dogs’ new favorite holiday tradition. I was grouchily musing about nut shells in the carpet, keeping the house tidy, and my emails on my computer. Ben told me I was missing out. And I was. I shut the computer, let go of the mess, because realistically, who cares? And sat on the carpet cracking nuts with a hammer, with the dogs, by the fireplace, laughing. Trying to keep things tidy, clean and perfect, means keeping your heart small. Isn’t the point of every holiday Christmas movie about a seemingly naïve little kid trying to convince a curmudgeonly adult to lighten up and find Christmas again? The kids have it right; they are the wise ones here.
Christmas is an invitation to come home to our childlike selves, accessing wonder and curiosity, making repairs for the wounds that hardened our hearts, and reparenting our inner child. Behind every holiday movie is a child who believes in magic convincing a crotchety adult to remember again. Belief in something bigger than us, Santa, God, nature, etc. is powerful.
Lately I have been letting the wisdom of holiday movies settle on my heart. Here are a few of the lessons I came away with from my holiday movie review:
Everyone has a different appetite, celebrate the joy of food because it’s what you want, not because it’s what you think will please everyone else. We can delight in our food and what we like without feeling guilt or shame. -Buddy in ELF, with his maple syrup spaghetti.
“One spontaneous good deed always sparks another.” Small acts of kindness can go a long way for rippling out change in a community. -Klaus
In the face of loss, the material things don’t matter. People are a gift. Gratitude is the warmest self-care. Remember your presence is a gift to many, in ways you probably could never imagine. You matter. Look at what is with loving eyes and see it as enough, without the comparison. You are the gift.” -George Baily in “It’s a Wonderful Life.”
It’s okay to ask for what you want, even if others disapprove. Being clear is kind, and there is a magic in knowing what you want and asking for it with unabashed clarity. -Ralphie in “A Christmas Story.”
Simplicity is a balm. When in doubt, boil it all down to the essence. Beyond the pomp and show of tradition, the holidays are about community and being, showing up as you are in your pajamas with bedhead and bad breath. Everyone has a seat at the table. Be kind and tender with yourself and others, for everyone is seeking belonging and has a right to belong. -Cindy Loo Who in “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.”
What is your favorite holiday movie? Perhaps there is a wisdom or a lesson that resonates with what you can carry with you into this season? Beyond whiskers on kittens and brown paper packages tied up with string, beyond your favorite things, what are your favorite tools for managing the holiday season?
