Tag: christmas

‘Tis The Season

“Are you ready for Christmas?”

What the hell does that mean?

What a season. Sure, we sing Christmas tunes. And things sparkle. For the religious, there’s the whole Jesus thing, which is probably satisfying.

But. Over twenty years in a health care practice, I saw this as a season of huge stress.

The Joy bar, if you can imagine one, is raised. You’re supposed to feel jolly, bursting with good will, eager to be with your loved ones (even the drunken aunts and the bigoted, pedophiliac, shoplifting, arsonist, B&E in-laws), and, most of all, willing to shop for all of the above. There’s nothing like an elevated expectation of joy to make you feel less joyous, to make you feel like a Scrooge-y underachiever in the realm of happiness.

Families get together, which is wonderful and not. Combined families do the absurd and hugely complicated Cirque du Soleil thing in order to be at all twelve turkey dinners around the country, stuffed to the resentful, guilty wishbone by the end of it all.

People spend themselves into debt that amounts to carrying a fat, loaded sleigh for the rest of the winter.

I drive by the mall, stare at four bizillion cars in the parking lot, and head to the library instead. I’ve done this twice in the last week. I’ll be well read, if not “ready” at all, by Christmas.

So what does it mean to be “ready” for Christmas?

Here’s my checklist:

1. Am I listening to my own values? (Do I even know what my values are?)

2. Am I doing what makes me happiest or am I just doing my best not to offend my mother, my father, my lover, my husband (same thing in some cases, but not for everybody this Christmas – talk about Cirque du Soleil stress), my kids, my in-laws, the guy who delivers the mail, every starving kid in Africa who will die because i just wasted $20 on a hat that no one will wear, the clerk who has asked me 600 times to donate an extra dollar to a cause I have no interest in?

3. Am I allowing my kids and lovely man to make their own decisions about what makes them happy (or am I pressuring the hell out of them to do what I want)?

4. Am I finding time every day to remember who I am? To breathe and be sane? To remember that Love is the Point?

Ahhhhh, that’s it.

The moment I remember that Love is the Point, I’m ready.

Are you ready? What’s the point for you? And is it easy for you to remember your own point this season? I’d love to hear.

Thanks for the conversation,

kristin

Ho.

We have no lights up. We have no tree, yet.

We look like lonely Jehovah Witnesses, lonely because we aren’t Witnesses, so we’re not inside hanging out with Witness friends, enjoying some specific biblical interpretation that keeps us satisfied with the plain state of our house and front yard. We’re just doing a lousy Witness impression.

Nor, by the way, do we do the Christian “Jesus is the reason for the season” thing. I have nothing against that approach, but it has never rung my bells.

My sister-in-law, who is Muslim, has her house decorated for Christmas already.

So we’re behind, is my point.

We agreed to no presents this year, in an attempt to skip the unfestive mall experience. So I’ve got to get going, or Christmas is going to be like any other winter Friday. Which it isn’t.

Here are our plans.

My lovely man will get us a tree. I’ll put red ribbons all over it.

I’ll talk with each of my kids on Christmas. They’re both away from home for the first time ever. I’ll miss them, but I LOVE them for creating their own adventures.

I’ll sing my brains out all day. O Come All Ye Faithful, doing the melody, then the harmony, hearing it all together in my head.

We’ll eat a beautiful breakfast, walk some wonderful trails in the afternoon, and make a festive dinner (we’re only now deciding whether we’re vegan, vegetarian, or total carnivores this year. I think veganism is winning. Looks like Portabello mushrooms with chestnut stuffing, and turnips and potatoes made the way my gran made them. Funny that turnips make it Christmas. Funny that Christmas is the only day of the year we eat turnip.)

I’ll spend some time thinking about the people I love who are screaming around the country with their kids in order to see every sibling, parent, and in-law. Some happily, some not so happily. Hohoho.

I’ll think about people I love who are spending the holiday alone, some happily and some not so happily. Lovelovelove.

I’ll think (I can’t help it with our unlit house) of those who don’t do Christmas at all, some happily (happy Witnesses, for example) and some not so happily.

Yeah for religious diversity or just secularjoysecularjoy.

I hope, in the end, that we each do some small, turnippy thing that reminds us during this time to love ourselves and each other, and the ones like my gran who’ve gone on.

Peacepeacepeace to you. And thanks for the conversation,

kristin