It’s 4 days before Christmas, and I don’t know about you, but I’m just not feeling it this year. With the combination of international travel on the near horizon, limited budget, a pay snafu, gray weather, and a teenager whose favorite thing to say at the moment is “leave me alone”(which is fine, I know he loves me and it’s just a phase), along with a lingering low-grade cold (just enough to be annoying – and no, it’s not covid) paired with the knowledge that anything I decorate I will be decorating alone and then putting away alone, I just don’t have it in me.
Then Mom Guilt kicks in and I feel guilty that I have not created the “Christmas Spirit” for my son this year. This is only my guilt, he does not mind – I asked him.
I’m not completely denying Christmas, so don’t panic, I have put up the tree and put a wreath on the door, but there are still two totes in the dining room full of decorations and lights that will not be joining us this year. For the first time in years, there are no outside lights and no decorations throughout the house. It just seems like so much effort, for what? The knowledge that I will have to spend a day taking it all down, packing it all up again, and then lugging it back to the attic? That’s a hard nope from me.
It’s been an emotionally draining year, with plenty of ups and downs, big evolutionary lessons, and tough finances with the cost of living far outpacing the money coming in, time has sped by, and there just isn’t any Christmas Spirit in me. It’s not peeking around the corner, or a small flickering candle flame in a distant window, it’s not anywhere.
And I’m not really interested in making myself feel guilty for it either.
I’ve been meaning to bake cookies and make candies (a Christmassy thing I have done in previous years) and I have the ingredients I need, but the motivation has not happened yet. Nor the rush of the joy of the season, to fill me with energy and excitement and motivation, sparking the annual burst of energy and activity and feeling like I want to make it the best Christmas ever like I usually do…but this boost has not arrived, in fact, I don’t think it will.
There have been no invites to Christmas parties, no end-of-year work-do’s, and no motivation to hold my own. I’m perceiving I’m not the only one feeling this way this year.
Traditionally the weekend before Christmas is when I get my bake on, but this weekend the house was a mess and my son wasn’t feeling very well long story short (I find it interesting that I still need to justify myself, the cultural expectation is deeply ingrained in my subconscious) we had a lazy day. A “lay on the couch, watching mindless documentaries about volcanoes and tsunamis and playing games on our phones” sort of lazy day, and it was awesome. At some point in the morning, as I was dragging myself through all the mental lists and actual lists of everything that needs to happen, I realized I needed to rest more than I needed to perform some perfunctory tasks I inflicted upon myself.
Because I am the only one making myself do these things because I perceive (i.e. tell myself a story) they MUST be done.
So, I apologize in advance for not “rediscovering the joy of Christmas” with a satisfying ending, but in keeping in line with my letting go of obligations, I choose instead to just be real.
And who knows? Maybe my finally learning to set and keep healthy boundaries, is my Christmas miracle.
I’m just worn out and done with this year. I’m quite happy to let the year finish quietly, thank it for all the lessons, and let it go.
There is no need for me to lament, just release. I love the idea of being quiet and introspective in the depth of the darkest days of winter. It’s winter solstice today and the thought of being able to hunker down tonight on the longest night with some hearty soup and a fire is enough for me.
My soul needs some rejuvenation. I know I’m the only one who can give it to me.
Merry Christmas to me.
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