The lead-up to Christmas has always felt so big. From sneaking into my parents’ wardrobe to check for presents, to pretending to sleep while Santa filled the stocking at the end of my bed, to planning the family lunch menu, buying another gift for another Kris Kringle, watching Carols by Candlelight on TV, and re-watching Love Actually.
It’s joyful but it also feels like a forced joy. Like everywhere I turn there’s a flashing sign saying IT’S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR so I must make it so. I must feel it is so. I wonder if everyone is so tired, not from all the parties and the shopping, but from the sheer effort of being happy because it’s Christmas.
I can’t think about Christmas without thinking of my mum. She is the reason I hold onto any cheesy tradition, because she loved it all, and my childhood is wrapped up in thoughtful gifts, handwritten cards, and pretty bows. She loved Christmas so much, she chose it as her last day in this life. I believe that. I believe she chose a day packed with so many years of so much love, perhaps in hope that it would balance out the grief.
I don’t know if it ever can. But this year, six years later, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I want to spend this Christmas. As much as it holds happy memories, it also carries bucketloads of shoulds. Things you should do. People you should see. Presents you should buy. Food you should make. Messages you should send.
I’ve been untangling my love for my mum, my gratitude for a happy childhood, with my need to create traditions of my own. I’ve been repeating to myself that to not do what I have always done, to not do what is expected of me, is not an act of non-love. It is a loving act. It is a new tradition.
This year, I’m doing barely any of it at all. I plan to watch the sunrise and swim in the ocean with my dog, before it gets hot and before the summer holiday crowds. After that, we will go where the winds take us.
This is the energy I would like to bring with me into the new year. That of letting go of shoulds. That of intention and kindness, both to myself and others. That of compassion, and feeling the whole spectrum of emotions - giving them all space. Giving us all space.
In my quiet corner of the world, I wish for peace for us all.
Merry (early) Christmas 💜
Amy
P.S. On December 28th, 8pm AEDT, I’m hosting a free online reflective writing session to see out the year. If it feels good for you, please feel free to join. I’d love to see you there :)
Perhaps writing about Christmas is the development of a new Christmas tradition.