So the expected holidays have come. It is customary that Christmas brings a serious charge of comfort, warmth, hope, gifts and miracles. We start counting down the days until the holiday usually shortly after the beginning of November and frantically plan, shop and come up with new and creative gifts and experiences. Very quickly, almost in a flash, comes the beginning of December and the marathon of Christmas celebrations and banquets. Day after day, an average family of 4 is involved in at least 5-6 different organizations, initiatives. Along with this, the New Year and the completion and closing of our duties, quarters and batches are frantically banging on the door of patience and available time.
Christmas, a holiday associated with the birth of the Son of God, becomes a marathon of survival. A holiday associated with family, loved ones and people we love, in which love seems to be measured in the gift and its packaging. A celebration for which preparations begin a month in advance, and we reach the finish line often dripping with fatigue, anxious and nervous.
These pre-holiday days I have been able to observe the dynamics of the world around me, which I have felt wants and wants and wants from me, and I can give no more.
Christmas embodies a very social element – every film oozes wonder, love, laughter and harmony. Christmas is a family holiday, but meeting our families is not always a possible or enjoyable event. But what if that is not the case in our lives? What if the miracle doesn’t happen? What if I don’t have people to be with? What if it’s the first Christmas without a loved one?
Expectations of ourselves and others are beginning to take on colossal proportions. As if for these 3 days we will be able to fill a gap that has been accumulating for years, and that through a pinch of brilliance and a spoonful of hope. Sometimes I stand in the silence and think whether it is better to have no hope or to have hope and be disappointed. Christmas doesn’t seem to allow us to not feel good, to not like our presents, to not want to be with our family, to not be in the mood. These are the expectations of us. Because Christmas embodies Christian traditions and customs, folk traditions and customs and traditions and customs adopted from the world and in our country. What happens? It’s just that at some point it all becomes too much. I begin to feel my unhappy state, not unhappy, but just not happy, very clearly. Everything I want from myself is mixed with the things I want from others and the things I’ve hoped for and imagined.
Ah, these expectations! It hurts so much when I pass them. It’s like they have the magic to tune me into the frequency of my vulnerability. And Christmas – Christmas is an expectation. And sizzle, easy and on play I passed my goal. What if Christmas were not an anticipation, but a lull?
What if the possibility of a break before the new year. Time for digestion, reflection and silence. A time to look at me and my beliefs, a time to look at my path. How would it be to look at presence instead of consumption? A time with less running and organization, with fewer people. Time for a good book, a glass of wine, a board game, a good movie, touching music… What would it be like to feel sadness, hopelessness and lack of meaning at Christmas? Can I afford it? Will they stop being present in me if I don’t allow them to be by my side at the feast? Or I’ll just be the way I am, right now.
I love the Christmas holidays, there is a lot of energy and meaning in them. This year, I welcomed Christmas by asking myself how I could make it through whole and with a sense of love and meaning in the ocean of expectations. Where to put my point of consumption and open the new paragraph for time to reflect and process my inner world. The world is what it is because of its diversity. Because of the colors of emotions we carry with us. It would be a waste to shackle them to our expectations.