I went for a “run” this morning and, much like my memory, it was short and slow. I have been nursing a shoulder injury and my dreams of training for a spring half marathon have been crushed by the sledge hammer of reality. It is a stunning day, sunny, crisp, a Tuesday, and incidentally it is December 25th.
Footfall, breath, footfall—I spotted a man getting out of his car, heading for his trunk to unload presents to take into a nearby house. Footfall, “Good morning” gulping breath, footfall. He looked up and smiled, “Good morning,” he answered. Hesitation. He continued, “Merry Christmas.” Footfall, breath, and then….
~
My thoughts went back to a few days ago when I saw a friend of mine post on social media about a local restaurant opening its doors on Christmas. She finished the post with, “No one should be alone on Christmas.”
Now I know you must be thinking exactly what I am thinking: What an absolutely horrid, thoughtless thing to say!
Huh? No? Really?!? You weren’t thinking that?
I absolutely, without a doubt, know that the intention of this statement was steeped deeply in love. But I am starting to fear that this type of sentiment is feeding an arbitrary societal construct that is growing to obese proportions, a construct that may actually be doing more harm than good.
What are we telling people? Let’s take a closer look at this statement: No one should be alone on Christmas. If that is true, then the corollary would be: If I find myself alone (by choice or circumstances) on Christmas, I shouldn’t be. But I am. Why? Does this mean there is something wrong with me?
And if this doesn’t make you insecure enough, there is all the media pumping you with messages to prey on your sense of self with everything from advertising to sappy Hallmark movies that feature the bookshop owner/ad agency exec/writer/Christmas tree farm owner who isn’t complete until she falls in love with the lawyer/architect/chef and moves back to her small hometown. I know this to be fact as I have watched Every. Single. One. And, let’s not forget the mandatory hot cocoa, cookie-making, snow ball fighting, skating rink, and tree decorating scenes. And, god forbid you be single at Christmas (I have news for all you single people out there—ninety-five percent of those who are coupled are probably wishing they weren’t….)
The pressure this season can create really hit home last week. My grandson, who is nine, discovered the secret location of all the unwrapped gifts. He conscripted his sister to partner with him in crime to investigate the hidden treasures. He would have gotten away with it if he hadn’t decided to video tape it. I take comfort in the fact that he doesn’t have a highly developed criminal mind. Reminded me of the time someone scribbled all over one of my chairs. When confronted with the situation, he blamed it on his younger sister. I sighed and said as an afterthought to myself, “I wonder if it is pen or pencil on there.” His cover was blown when he boldly affirmed, “Oh, it is pencil.”
Upon getting busted for the gift fiasco, he felt bad, inappropriately and over-the-top bad for “ruining” Christmas for his sister and himself. I won’t go into details, but the pressure and self-loathing that transpired broke my heart—and he is only nine.
“It’s only a day, Bud. Sure, it might have been more exciting if you hadn’t seen the presents first, but it’s not the end of the world. In fact, when I was little, my brother Doug used to secretly unwrap and rewrap his presents all the time!”
“Seriously?”
“Yep, not a word of a lie,” I assured him.
“Huh, I didn’t know that.”
This is scary to me…when the need for “Christmas magic” outweighs the need for healthy perspective and outlook. And we are force fed the impossible ideal...even at nine.
It’s an intensified season…for those who are grieving, those who are alone, those who are facing poverty, those with mental illness, those whose family situation has recently changed. And, here’s the thing—it’s all based on a completely ethereal and shaky concept at best. Why? So stores can sell stuff. And, we all buy in, hook, line and sinker. Maybe those JWs are on to something after all…
And, challenging the construct of Christmas is like challenging Donald Trump. If you do, it you will get called names: Grinch or Scrooge. Words that are now completely part of our lexicon. Hmmm, maybe Dickens or Dr. Seuss were illuminati…
Don’t get me wrong, getting together with family, expressing love, breaking bread with friends, sharing gifts, all amazing and wonderful things to do. But pinning so much pressure and expectation onto one particular date, I am not sure it serves us. It does serve capitalism, insecurity, and a sense of inadequacy, however.
The fact of the matter, today is Tuesday. And, although I spent last night with some of my kids and will be spending this afternoon with others, I did not buy gifts. I haven’t really for years now—at least not for Christmas. I might get my daughter a Starbucks randomly or send a surprise package to a friend but I have completely let go of the societal construct. I may put up a tree, I may not. I might buy a gift for someone or I might not. When my parents had their cottage, I would literally run away for the day and drink tea and eat chocolate biscuits for breakfast on December 25. And, you know what? It is absolutely liberating! I refuse to hang all my good memories on a particular date. I want to live my life and create memories on my own terms!
~
Breath, footfall, hesitation. “Merry Tuesday!” I responded. He looked slightly confused, smiled and walked his presents towards the house.
So, if you find yourself not fitting the typical Hallmark postcard picture of Christmas today, either by choice or circumstance, if you are facing intense adversity and heartache, here is my holiday message to you:
You got this! It’s just a Tuesday.
