Christmas time: It is what it is–to you.
I am by no means a Scrooge, but years ago I decided to be a Christmas time minimalist.
I decorate; I celebrate, but I turn on “Christmas” only on the days it needs to be turned on. By “Christmas” I am not referring to the Christian themes of loving, giving, caring and sharing that we should always be focused on, I’m talking about the Christmas of the Hallmark channel.
That’s the Christmas where everything is perfect, even if you are The Waltons living in the Great Depression. That means if you are an average person living in the Great Recession you better darn well have a perfect Christmas season or something is seriously wrong with you. (By the way, I think they were allowed to call it a Depression back then because Depression did not mean “Get yourself on some pills” like it does now.)
Frankly, I feel this whole month of society-induced expectation for perfection makes everything that is slightly, less-than-perfect magnified. That is why we have the Christmas Blues.
It’s like having a massive, allergic reaction at Disney world. The mind cannot compute. Impossible!
Thank goodness for the recession. At least we all get a shot in the arm of reality this season to remind us that, no matter how close to Martha Stewart’s home ours appears, it will not create world peace.
I’m not trying to begrudge those of you who enjoy the Pre-Christmas high. Personally, I like to use the entire month as a reason to validate consuming copious amounts of alcohol. Just remember all, that some of us feel like bursting into tears all Christmas season because some normal life event has been put under the microscope by the mean, ant bully of society’s expectations.
It isn’t me this year. That is because I have scaled back my expectations of Christmas years ago. I think it started when I tried to get a friend to go to Christmas Eve mass at a snooty Catholic church. She and her friend showed up 80 sheets to the wind and smelling like “My Brother’s Bar.” I still drug them to half the mass, but the dirty looks from the fellow church goers were enough to make me want to hide under a pew even as I type this. Lesson one; you don’t need to go to Christmas service with others.
In conclusion, I’d like to conclude my favorite non-Christmas song that has helped me heal in times of emotional depression and recession. I like to meditate on the words and focus on freeing myself from the baggage that comes, not just with the season but with life. It’s called “Love is Letting Go of Fear” by Olivia Newton-John.
December 10th, 2009 at 5:24 pm
I’ve learned to love Christmas again by looking at it through Adie’s eyes. Not by what everyone expects. I may look at my tree and see a cheap fake tree but Adie sees the pretty lights and feels the magic. I love that she loves it.