It’s that time of year again, when the bright lights, jolly music, and Christmas inflatables are prompting panicked shoppers to get online or run through the mall.
Instead, I’m holed up in a rental cottage, hammering away at revisions on a novel.
And you know what? I’m happy, which feels weird because for years I’ve struggled to stay on an even keel at Christmas. Maybe I’ve finally cracked the code for staying sane.
It isn’t the extra holiday house chores that have bogged me down in the past—I generally love having company. It’s not the commercialism, either, or even hearing Mariah Carey shriek “All I Want for Christmas is You,” a song that reminds me of that Star Trek Wrath of Kahn movie where they drop eel larva into Chekov’s ear.
No, the source of my holiday blues seems to be some melancholy hangover from past holidays. Whenever Christmas rolls around, I feel like I’m standing under a bowling ball disguised as mistletoe.
There’s no rational reason for this. I’m not living in a country at war, battling cancer, or struggling to pay bills. I’ve had many happy family Christmases with our five kids. Cookies baked for Santa, stockings hung by the chimney with care, crackling fires, the works.
So why the tendency to feel sad? Why the need for survival strategies?
The foundation for my holiday melancholy was laid during childhood, I suspect, because some of my most vivid memories are of my mom locking herself in the bedroom to cry. Then there were the Christmases after my parents divorced, which involved lots of score-keeping between the generals on each side of the battlefield over how much time we kids spent with them.
I had a divorce of my own, too. Even though my ex and I have always been amicable and fluid about custody arrangements, there were times during Christmas when my kids were with him and not with me, and yes, I cried. A lot.
Now our children are adults. My ex and I are still friends and we still share them over the holidays. It’s easier than it used to be, emotionally, though part of me still wants everyone gathered under one roof.
I still decorate the tree, hang the stockings, and throw lights on the bushes outside. The house looks warm and festive. There will be good food (thanks to my second husband) and cocktails and presents. There will be love and laughter in this house, and I will enjoy every minute.
Every minute I’m not sad, that is, for the people who are gone, either passed from this life or who simply won’t make it home. I will occasionally be sorrowful that this Christmas isn’t quite perfect, even though I know full well that nothing ever is.
We all need to be reminded that those perfect holiday movies, or even the scenes through our neighbor’s windows, are only illusions. Whatever holidays we choose to celebrate, everyone is mourning someone, wishing our kids would behave better, worrying about heating bills, feeling anxious about health scares, wondering how we ended up divorced, fighting over politics, or being just plain tired.
It’s an imperfect world even at Christmas. Maybe even especially at Christmas. So how to survive?
1. Find Your Own Pockets of Happiness
I can be more emotionally whole during the holidays if I arrange some time for myself or with special friends. I suggest you do the same. Note: Nobody else will give this time to you, so you need to make it happen for yourself.
2. Give What You Can
Whether it’s the Salvation Army bell ringers, your local church or library, public radio, or global charities, give what you can to support causes that matter to you. You’ll feel less like the Grinch, guaranteed.
3. Take Advantage of Smaller Moments
We have a big family, so it’s almost impossible to have an uninterrupted conversation. What makes the holiday special for me are the smaller, quieter moments. This year, for instance, I took one daughter Christmas shopping and out for drinks. I’ve invited two of the kids to see holiday decorations in an historic mansion, and I’ll hike most days with the dogs and some smaller group of kids, or maybe even just one of them. My husband and I will sneak away, too, for our morning walks before breakfast. Taking advantage of those quieter moments gives everyone breathing room and makes this a special time.
4. Expect Less Out of this One Day
Christmas doesn’t have to solve all of the world’s problems, or even those within our own families. It’s okay for this to be a day where we simply gather together. In the end, the holiday is special, but there are 364 other days that can be special, too.
15 Comments
Sonja Shine says
Good balance & perspective! Love to you all! I hope we can manage to get together as well! Love you my friend! Sonja
Holly Robinson says
We will make this happen, Sonja, I promise. Happy holidays!
Sonja Shine says
Yay!
Sandi Shelton says
This is so beautiful, Holly. My eyes filled up with tears, reading it. Guess I’m a little sad too at this time of year, even while I’m having fun. You are a friend I would love to see! ❤️
Holly Robinson says
And I want to see you!! We obviously missed our chance for a pre-Christmas shopping getaway in Sturbridge, but how about the week after? Or the first week of January? Dying to see you and hear all your news!
Susanne says
I love your last line especially! There are 364 other days that can be special too!
Holly Robinson says
Thank you so much, Susanne!
Maryellen Shaw says
Dear Holly,
I cannot add one darn thing to your post..not a memory or a new survival technique for the holidays. It is perfect just as it is and could not be more true. My Christmas wish for you is that all of your Christmas wishes come true. Merry Christmas my friend. I will be on the East Coast for the holidays making my Christmas wishes come true too. xxoo
Holly Robinson says
Oh, I love to think of you being here on the East Coast! Let me know if you’re up around Boston and maybe we can meet for a walk. Happy holidays!
Carol Boyer says
Dear Holly, I was thinking of you the other day when I was looking for a Christmas decoration and came upon one of your books Second Chance whice I loved.
I know exactly the feeling you described in this news letter. I have everything I need. My tree is decorated , cards sent, gifts bought, and meal planned …yet…. I miss my dear husband and my parents. Yes a feeling of melancholy is there but I do what yo suggest, gather with special friends an look forward to see my sister and and brother-in-lawand have my wonderful son faith in what was his Dad’s old chair. All is well this Christmas. I am truly blessed…
Holly Robinson says
Ah, Carol, I feel you. That’s all we can do: make the most of these special moments with the people who are still here, and surround ourselves with love. I wish you all of the joy possible, but give yourself time to be sad, too. I think it’s important to embrace the melancholy so the happiness burns even brighter.
Anne Easter Smith says
I usually have the Christmas spirit by now, but this year it has eluded me. A health diagnosis sobered me this month; my daughters are far away in CA and rarely see me at this time of year; after three years we are doubting our move to Florida; politics here and wars abroad are stomach-wrenching (Scott thinks next year’s election will be a shit show and why don’t we rent a place in Portugal or France for the duration); and no one performed the Messiah (my personal Christmas tradition)—just concerts full of tired standard Christmas songs (how many times can an orchestra or choir make Jingle Bells interesting?); and palm trees wrapped with colored lights just doesn’t scream Christmas magic to me. That’s about it, although your blog always makes me smile! Your friend, Anne—a fish out of water in Florida
Holly Robinson says
Oh, gosh, Anne, this sounds rough. I’m so sorry. Let’s chat soon, please! I’ll send you an email.
Sarah Emsley says
It’s wonderful to hear that you’re happy, Holly. Best wishes for your work on the revisions and for your time with your family! And thank you for sharing your survival strategies.
Holly Robinson says
Thank you so much, Sarah. Happy holidays!