Reinventing the holidays (or confessions of a Christmas overachiever)
Early in this walkabout I said goodbye to relationships and ways of life that no longer served me.
Now I’m ready to tackle a holiday.
You know. The one coming up . . . Christmas!
I am having to be a little bit brave because this is hard. Changing how one celebrates the most beloved holiday of all is akin to stepping into a minefield. Terrible and wonderful memories begin exploding left and right.
Christmas with my family of origin was a mixed bag, but mostly nice. My mother pulled out all the stops and my father disapproved, so joy in our bounty was mixed with guilt. My favorite memory is of my family gathering in the dark of a Sunday evening and lighting the candles of the advent wreath. In that golden glow we sang, laughed, took turns reading aloud and told stories. This was love, pure and magical.
It was only when I became a parent myself, that I turned into a Christmas overachiever. Months before Christmas I started creating handmade personalized ornaments for everyone I knew. I drove kids to and fro, baked countless batches of cookies, decorated lavishly and stung yards of popcorn and cranberries. I crafted Christmas cards, wreaths and my own wrapping paper. I attended and gave parties. I shopped like a fiend, making sure everybody got what they wanted. And then after Christmas, I took it all down and packed it up again for the next year’s marathon.
I was the ring master for it all. But truthfully I found Christmas stressful. I gave myself too many things to do in my mission to make everything perfect. I was my own worst enemy.
So in my year of reinvention, I asked myself the following questions:
- What do I love about Christmas to incorporate into a new tradition?
- What has become meaningless for me?
- How can I take better care of myself during the holiday season?
Here is the first incarnation of the new Christmas for me:
Family and friends: In smaller doses. This year I spent several wonderful days before Christmas tooling around Portland with my sister Robin. We tried out new and old ways to celebrate.
Décor: A few minimal but beautiful (to me) decorations. For more about this, read my note on Facebook about mindful ownership. No tree for me. I can visit 20 beautifully decorated trees at the Pittock Mansion in Portland or take in the city lights twinkling below my apartment window.
Sacred: I am lighting lots of candles this time of year, just as I did when I was a child. They make sacred the dark days of winter. I listen to the Christmas music of my past. I plan a day of mindfulness and Tonglen on Christmas Day.
Events: One or two small — or none at all. This year I went to Portland’s Crafty Wonderland Show.
The Hubbub factor: I like all the excitement of Christmas and being anonymous in crowds, so I went Christmas shopping without buying anything. I visually soaked in the beautiful things for sale and enjoyed being part of the crowd.
Eating and Drinking: In moderation. I don’t need to make or taste every possible Christmas cookie or dish. My sister and I celebrated simply, slowly savoring a glass of port and one huckleberry chocolate truffle each (from Portland’s Moonstruck Chocolate Co.) No more turkey, ham or huge dinners for me. I am trying a spaghetti squash meal on Christmas Day from my sister’s blog.
Smells: Fresh greenery is at a premium in an urban setting. I bought two small sprays of red berries and a friend brought me some clippings from her tree. When I walk by, I inhale deeply!
Children: I can’t be with my kids or grandson this year. While in the children’s section of Powell’s Bookstore, I watched with delight the little ones about my grandson’s age. They fill me with joy.
Giving: In honor of a family member who chooses to be homeless, I buy a sandwich or two when I grocery shop and hand them off to the many homeless folks I see in Portland. I hope someone does something kind for my relative too.
Christmas Day: I discovered on Thanksgiving Day that the city of Portland goes quiet and still on holidays. With only a few cars and dog walkers about, it feels rarefied and magical. I will be walking there again come Christmas Day.
My way is not the way for everybody.
And — as with everything — it’s a work in progress.
What do you love about Christmas? What family traditions to you cherish? What traditions would you like to change? I’d love to hear from you!
The Walkabout Woman