This season I have been counting down every day until Christmas. Knowing that in a few short days all of the hope, longing, and waiting will be over. Done. Then it’s 364 days until the next Christmas.
I try every year to hold on to the magic by playing all of the classic Christmas songs, from Bing Crosby to Amy Grant.
However, there is still an emptiness I feel.
The fear comes up when I have a second to sit still. The fear says all of this will end and then it will be bleak again. Cold, desolate January will roll back in while beginning virtual school and more uncertainty of what’s to come.
Anxiety has a tight hold on hope.
What if I don’t celebrate enough?
What if this year doesn’t feel as special?
What if I don’t get my kids everything on their list?
What if I’m even sadder after the holiday is over?
What if I can’t fake my way through the season?
Our feelings do not stop during the holidays.
The way fear works is that it strangles what you love because you are so afraid of losing it. Anxiety does not leave space for mystery, openness, and creativity. It thrives on control, power, and fretfulness.
What if this year you are more honest?
The reality is that this just might be the loneliest Christmas in history. That’s really, really painstakingly sad. Maybe this year the gift of Christmas is being present, honestly attending to your feelings, and no longer pretending. This may, paradoxically, lead you to a place of calmness, restoration, and peace.
Being human means having lots of experiences and feelings, sometimes in the same minute. Sadness can lead to joy and joy can lead to pain. Whatever you are feeling, my guess is you are not alone.
Vulnerability around this season could be the key to connection during this socially distanced holiday. We might not be able to give a hug, but giving the truth of our voice might bring closeness.
My wish for you is to find a safe place to show up and tell what is in your heart. It all matters, each and every part.