Grinch-like
Winter is not my season. The cold and the dark weigh on me. I spend most of December through February layering on coats, piling on blankets, inching closer to the fireplace and daydreaming about trips to Florida.
The Holidays used to make it worse - juggling the expectations of two sets of families, navigating holiday traffic to meet those expectations, buying impulse gifts because of guilt or pressure, and bending over to create a Hallmark worthy holiday for my children.
Several years ago, I decided to limit my screen time between Thanksgiving and New Year’s. I know it’s hard, if not impossible, for folks to go completely cell phone free, but by limiting use to certain hours, not exceeding screen time limits, and turning off notifications you can substantially decrease the amount of attention your phone receives.
I’m a big fan of checking in on my consistent habits to make sure they are healthy; to see how I feel when I take a step back. These include caffeine, alcohol, sugar, social media, and cell phone use. I’m not saying that any of these entities are evil, it's just that for every one of them I want to be the driver and not the passenger. By taking time to one-by-one stiff arm these commonplace practices, it’s easy to see how twitchy I get without it- and how I feel when I’m weaned off it.
Most of these habit check-ins happen at random times throughout the year, but it’s become an annual tradition that starting on Black Friday and stretching to New Year’s Day, my screen time goes to a bare minimum. My online forays consist of checking email and work-related websites. Besides that I’m off social, I’m shopping local, and when I’m curious about current events, I pick up a newspaper - a real, print newspaper! And as far as bigger screens, I still watch holiday movies with my family but I won’t turn on Real Housewives and I become less of a sports fan.
And what happened then?
These choices have made a major impact. It's not that winter is my favorite season, but I have undergone a Grinch-like conversion. My focus has shifted from the “stuff”- the food, the toys, the noise… oh the noise, noise, noise, noise. And I’ve rediscovered the joy, the hope, the people, the spirit that gives us a reason to celebrate in the darkest, coldest- and often loneliest- time of the year.
I also started to prioritize experiences over tangible gifts and to plan more outdoor activities as a family. It turns out even when it’s cold and dark and all I want to do is hibernate, it still feels good and boosts endorphins to go outside. So we’ve created traditions around walking to see gingerbread house displays, creating plein air masterpieces at the Biltmore Estate, and wandering the outdoor light display at the Arboretum. We also take short hikes with hot cocoa and step out with binoculars to spot migrating birds.
It came without ribbons
This year, more than ever, I am looking forward to a tech diet. The impacts and aftermath of Hurricane Helene are still reverberating throughout our community. Yes, we have water and power and wifi, but our neighbors have tarps on their roofs, businesses continue to close and friends continue to move. On top of that, the barren winter landscape has made the destruction in and around our river valleys appear even more bleak.
And as hard as it is, I want to be present in all that. I don’t want to be distracted from the pain or lose sight of the people who are still here helping. Workers and volunteers, out in the cold scooping up frozen mud, cutting trees, cleaning old moldy crawl spaces, patching roofs. And the neighbors who are making soup and covered dishes, delivering it to displaced families living in RVs. Friends who are trying their best to shop and support and promote the businesses and restaurants that are struggling to survive the winter and stay open.
We don’t hold space for holidays because everything is right and well and easy. We mark these days because life is in fact not what we want it to be. But at the same time we believe and trust that it can get better- and will. Holidays done well help us remember to slow down, to see people, to embrace generosity and hold on to hope.
Yes, there is a cultural attempt to commandeer the holiday season with a commercial onslaught of things we don’t need- a sense of busyness and of command performances. But you don’t have to buy in to it– literally. You don’t have to accept that influence into your everyday routine. You can stiff arm the parts of this season that don’t serve you. It’s not necessary to give up social media or to reduce screen time to reclaim the holidays. And there will be responsibilities and relationships that cannot be silenced for six weeks. But we can all be intentional with how we choose to move through this season.
So hop in the driver's seat and put down that phone. Because, ready or not, the holidays are here.
Parting Words
Taking some time off social means you won’t see any new blogs on my site til 2025. Instead, I’ll be using my Dec writing blocks to dust off a manuscript that has been in the works. In the meantime, here are a few words that have been shared by friends and neighbors this fall - each one a gift to unwrap.
“In this situation, what does love require?” - shared by Neighbor Jim
“Tears cleanse the soul.” - shared by Cindy
“We’re all in this soup together.” - shared by Sugarboy
“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about." - shared by Lauren from Kafka on the Shore, by Haruki Murakami