Dear
Philip,
It’s not even Christmas, yet, and I am
exhausted. Between the shopping and the
cards and the making plans for our family members to get together and drive
each other crazy, I face the holiday season with what feels like more dread
every year. How do I slow it down and
stop resenting all the commercialism and false cheer? What do I do about being so stressed out?
Scrooge-in-Training
Dear Ebenezer, Jr.:
Move to a state
where pot is legal.
That was an
official PVM Christmas joke. I tell a
lot of ‘em, because a lot of folks I know can use a joke or two, long about
mid-December. For so many of us,
Christmas is the Super Bowl of stress.
So let’s take a
time out, Scrooge, and let’s talk for a minute about the great divide between
what we celebrate and how we celebrate.
Maybe by breaking the former down to something simple, we can do the
same with the latter.
Though I’m not
much of a biblical scholar, I follow football just enough to know that there
are people who are content to stand in the freezing cold, holding signs up in
the air for the better part of a three-hour telecast in the hopes that the TV
cameras will catch the message that they’ve boiled down to seven characters and
a colon: John 3:16.
The writer in me
has always been a little in awe of the simplicity of that particular verse, which
explains the basic tenets of Christianity in one sentence. The first part of that sentence also explains
Christmas: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten
Son…” In other words, Christmas marks a
gift given out of love. Christmas is
about giving.
I’ve been through
a few translations of the bible – a religion minor in college will do that for
you – and nowhere have I found any version of the word “obligation” in that
verse. The gift that gave name to both
the religion and the holiday was given freely, and happily. Likewise, the original Christmas may have
involved family and visitors and presents, but it wasn’t celebrated by people
concerned over keeping up with (or putting up with) others.
So maybe don’t be
concerned with those things, either.
Rather, try to figure out what giving out of love means to you, and
concern yourself with that. Focus your
Christmas efforts on the people that you love.
Sounds pretty
Hallmark, I know, but it’s actually a great rule of thumb for approaching the
holiday. Start with the idea that you
can’t do your best for those you love if you’re exhausted, and start whittling
away at the things that wear you out.
For instance, don’t wander the mall on a mid-December afternoon,
desperately looking for inspiration because you just have to put several things
under the tree; spend some time earlier on sitting quietly, thinking of a few
gifts that have some meaning. (Then
practice laser-targeted shopping. It’s
easier on the wallet and the nerves.) Those thoughts, and the eventual
bestowing of those thoughtful gifts, will give you joy.
Believe it or not,
the time you spend with extended family at Christmas can also be joyful, if you
retrain your brain. Rather than worrying
about what your relatives are taking from you in terms of energy and patience,
think about what you can give to them in terms of attention and compassion. Showing your uncle some interest in what he’s
doing; really listening to your sister: these are gifts given out of love,
every bit as much as – and I’d argue more than – anything you’ll find on Black
Friday, Cyber Monday, or Yikes, It’s the Day Before Christmas Tuesday.
False cheer, as
you put it, is the stuff that comes from that nagging sense of obligation
that’s been drummed into us by marketers and TV networks. If you want the real thing, seek inspiration
at the source, and become the post- ghostly visit, Christmas morning Scrooge
who realizes that love is the gift, and that presence is the present.
Failing that, I
hear the brownies in Colorado are especially good, this year.
A merry, loving
Christmas to you,
Philip
