Christmas Quit Me Out of Mutual Disdain and the Holidays Have Never Felt More Joyful
give yourself permission to do whatever the fuck you want for just this one year and see where it leads you.
For the sake of my family, I wish it didn't feel this way to me, but it does.
I'm not too fond of Christmas. In fact, I have a certain kind of uncomfortable disdain for the holiday season.
Historically, this is not a great time of year for me. As the short days get progressively shorter, I do not get the light my body needs to thrive. Seasonal Affective Disorder gets a lot darker than just feeling a little blue. Moving to Mexico did not solve the problem of days that don't deliver enough hours of sunlight.
I also had an awkward, "It's not you, it's me." kind of breakup with traditional Christianity in my early twenties. That does not square up well with our family members who still see Christmas as a religious holiday. I don't believe the virgin birth in a manger story any more than in Santa Clause. Celebrating a Christian holiday feels so wildly dishonest to me.
I think capitalism hurts people, and no time of year elevates capitalism like December. I was raised by parents who frequently couldn't afford to do Christmas as other families did or even do it at all. It trained me not to want things. I spent many years as a young single mother, feeling guilty I couldn't afford the presents my child knew better than to ask for. So, yeah, there is all that knotted into my complicated story about this season.
The holidays are not my jam. Yet, usually, we do what I refer to as performative holidays. I try as hard as I can to bake the cookies, cook the meals, buy and wrap the presents, and sing the Christmas carols so other people can enjoy the show AND I resent doing it more and more each year.
Despite all of that, there is something about this time of year. There is something deeply primal in the whisperings of the wind during this season. It quietly almost demands both celebration and contemplation.
And this year, sweet baby Jesus, this year is one for the books. Two years of the pandemic with all the death, dying, illness, discord, fear, and fighting...
this year is requiring sacred closure with an urge I have never felt this strongly before. This year wants to be wrapped like a baby and put to bed with a lovingness that heals what it was. 2021 wants to be ritualized before we take the calendar off the wall.
