One December when our sons were little, I hung a piece of paper painted a deep dark blue in our kitchen. “A sky,” I told them. I painted another piece of paper gold, cut out about a hundred small stars and put them in a basket, along with a glue stick.
My hope was to distract the boys a bit from the idea of “getting” things for Christmas, and to shift the emphasis instead to the kinds of simple acts of kindness that actually make us feel good inside ourselves.
I knew I wouldn’t have much luck telling them that the shortest route to happiness isn’t paved with possessions. (Try explaining that to a six- year-old who has been trying to prioritize his Christmas list.) They wouldn’t believe me if I suggested that more stuff doesn’t ever equal a better life. Or that a sure-fire antidote to restlessness and craving is to do something nice for someone else.
I wanted them to discover for themselves the joy of giving, the deeper meaning of the season.
And so, for every random, unsolicited act of kindness anyone in the family did during the day, we placed a star into the sky. Each night at dinnertime, we turned off all the kitchen lights, lit candles in an Advent wreath on our table, held hands and said our grace. And then, as the painted sky filled with stars, we talked about opportunities we’d each found during the day to do good deeds.
The December of Good Deeds was such a long time ago. For some unknown reason, we only did it once. And yet it is one of my favorite holiday memories, ever.
Last night, Henry and Steve and I grabbed the afghans and lined up on the couch together to watch a couple of Tivoed episodes of “The Daily Show.” The clips of shoppers mauling each other in a race to claim discounted printers, dollar DVDs, and Rachel Ray cookware on Black Friday were more horrifying than funny. Jon Stewart didn’t need to say much about the stabbing in Virginia over a parking space, the shooting at Kohl’s, or the mayhem at Wal-Mart. There was no need to comment on Sarah Palin’s claim last week that she loves the commercialization of Christmas, because it reminds us all that this is the “most cheerful holiday on the calendar.” All he had to do was play the footage.
This morning, I woke up early, still haunted and disturbed by those scenes. We are warm and dry and safe and well-fed here. There is nothing anyone in my family needs or wants so badly that we would line up outside a store at 6 a.m. to get it. No one went shopping the day after Thanksgiving.
But I also realize what a luxury our comfort is. I don’t want to take any of what I have for granted – not the food in our refrigerator, not the heat rising from the grates on the floor, not the laptop on which I type these words, nor the fact that, at 6:30 in the morning, I am privileged enough to be sitting on the couch in my pajamas writing a blog post, rather than driving through darkness to get to work on time. I can’t even begin to know what it’s like to live in a constant state of not-enough.
And yet, I’m certainly not immune to the pressures of the season. I may not agree with Sarah Palin in extolling the commercialization of Christmas, but I can’t always resist it, either. In this season of short days and long, cold nights there is, perhaps, a nearly universal impulse to dispel the darkness. And what better way to escape the discomfort of our own dark places, anxious thoughts, and fears of scarcity than by rushing forth — out to the bright lights and cheerful music and super sales at the shopping mall?
The winter solstice is a time when the natural world is still and dormant. Outside my own window this morning, the ground is frozen solid, the trees lightly coated with a scrim of ice. The only lights to be seen are the neighbor’s holiday decorations, left aglow all night. The truth is, I would prefer complete darkness. I realize that my own desire as the winter solstice approaches is to unplug, to fully experience the shortest days, the longest nights, the deepest shadows.
Sitting here while the rest of my family sleeps, I’m reminded how healing it feels to take my cues not from the culture but from nature. Each day this month, I can make a choice to slow down, to sit quietly, to turn inward, to reflect on my own hopes and goals for this season. Instead of banishing the silent darkness, I can welcome it. Instead of trying to escape my complicated, pre-holiday feelings of sadness for times past and anxiety about the days to come, I can simply acknowledge them: my annual desire for things to be just so, my annual worry that they won’t be.
Later today Henry and I will decorate the Christmas tree he and Steve have already set up in living room. We will put on our favorite music, bring the decorations up from the basement, test out last year’s strings of lights. My December to-do list is long – there are meals to plan, presents to buy and make and wrap and send, cards to write. Jack will come home. We will visit friends and uphold traditions. As always, the whole extended family will gather here on Christmas day for gifts and a brunch that lasts for hours. I love and cherish every moment of it. But I can also get a little overwhelmed thinking about all I have set myself to orchestrate and plan and do. The other day, feeling my old, familiar December panic setting in, I confided to a friend that part of me would like to skip this month altogether.
But that’s not really true. What I want is to fully embrace it instead – in my own way and at my own pace. Instead of thinking about “producing” Christmas, I want to align my heart with the soul of solstice. Here in the pre-dawn darkness, I am seeing more clearly just what I wish to cultivate and bring into the light this season. Such simple things: love, laughter, ease, togetherness, gratitude, hospitality, joy. Perhaps it doesn’t have to be hard. Perhaps all I need to do is recreate, in my own mind at least, that long-ago piece of blue paper taped to the refrigerator. And then fill it up with stars of goodness.
How do you honor the soul of the season in your heart? In your home? I would love to know!
With my boys, now aged 12, 13 & 15, I’m trying so hard to enjoy them as they are NOW and not waste time by remembering little footie pajama-ed Christmases that were full of cookies and Golden Books.
But I went ahead a made up a big December calendar yesterday and posted it on the wall. Asked each man-child as they lumbered by if there will things they wanted put on the calendar. Each one just wanted game nights and dinners together as much as possible. I was reminded ONCE AGAIN that I don’t have to plan fancy pinterest inspired craft days. They just want unhurried time with Dad and me.
One thing that has worked for years and worked again last night was to set up a puzzle station in the house. One giant winter themed jigsaw. If I just sit quietly and look uninterested in anything else, it’s not long before a boy makes his way to the space across from me. I think of it like a really fabulous teen trap. 🙂
Ooh, I love the puzzle idea,!!! Thanks…
I found so much to love in this post, Katrina. I was horrified at all of the coverage of people behaving abominably on Thanksgiving night and Black Friday. Just so disheartening. Is that Kindle really worth punching someone in the face for ON a day of thanks?
It is 2 degrees here (up from -10 overnight) and the Minxes and I have made chocolate chip muffins, decorated the tree and listened to Christmas carols. Homemade pizza to follow. School wasn’t technically cancelled, but we declared our own Freezefest today. We’re still in our pajamas and so grateful to be together. I love the story of your Christmas of Kind Acts. What a beautiful idea. We always celebrate the solstice by coating pine cones in peanut butter and rolling them in bird seed/sunflower seeds. Then we leave them out for the night creatures to feast on. It seems like the decent thing to do, since they’re out in the snowy grasp of winter. Enjoy your unplugged and slower-paced holiday with your dear family. xoxo
The soul of solstice sounds wonderful. peaceful. calming. inviting. I think of dark rooms with flickering candles and quiet music playing instrumentals. I think of journals and pens available for thoughts etched on paper waiting. I think of snow ‘falling’ quietly and peacefully inviting our worried hurried hearts to step out into the cold and breathe the crispness. Then I think of warm fires in the flickering fire place and I move closer to the warmth. Thank you… for this ‘wonderful thoughtful challenge’.
For me, this time of year is not so much about hibernating, but a “gathering around the hearth”. Here, in the deep snow we have had lately it excites me to have family coming together, sometimes having to stay longer because of the snow. Lots of food and faces and fun. It’s a time of Christmas songs and playing games in the wee hours. I crave the connection that December brings to me. It’s finally a time when the people I love take the extra time to just be together. Most of all, it makes me slow down and soak it all in.
I am blessed to have been given the gift of song, and I routinely juggle 2 church choirs and any other seasonal events my schedule will permit. My husband and I will be seeing the Vienna Choir Boys for the first time this weekend. Traditional Christmas music always reminds me of the real reason we celebrate, and that sets the stage for all of the family events that we treasure so much. It’s the one time of year that everyone can reconnect and unplug from the normal stresses and routines, and underscores the importance of our family connection. Blessings to you and yours, Katrina. Enjoy the season in all its splendor.
Ten or so years ago, I put handmade tags on all of my family’s gifts, not anything fancy but my family found them impressive just because they were handmade. So I did it again the next year and the next and the next. The handmade tags have now become a Christmas tradition. My family now looks first for the latest tags before the gifts on Christmas morning. With the hustle and bustle that seems to grow exponentially year by year, I often think of crossing this tradition from my to-do list but honestly, for me, it’s the most creative and engrossing activity of the season so I allow this simple pleasure to continue…Happy Holidays to All!
Doing less, for sure. It seems like every year my gift list grows shorter. I try to focus more of what I’d *like* to do (baking cookies, writing cards) rather than what I think I *should* do (going to the light show at the zoo, which is always too cold and over-packed for my taste). This year Abra and I have started reading Christmas books before bed (an idea I stole from your blog years before I even had a child, I think!), which I’ve made a practice of gathering all year long at thrift stores and tag sales. We put together a gingerbread house one cold, dark afternoon this week, which was a lot of fun.
Already I feel the constant thrum of the holidays. A friend forwarded me a flyer for a solstice yoga class, and while spending the last Saturday afternoon before Christmas in silent repose feels like a huge indulgence , I don’t see how I can’t afford NOT to go, for the sake of my own spirit.
Oh, and I LOVE the of your starry, starry night. Much peace to you this season; especially in the wake of your recent loss.
It was 27 years ago on December 21st, 1986, that my husband and I were married.
It was the Winter Solstice that year. We celebrate Chanukah, but during the holiday
season, we spend well-deserved time with family and friends. When the children were little, my husband worked every Christmas overnite in the hospital as the house physician. I would take the children to visit him at work. As they have gotten older, we enjoy playing games, watching videos and doing things as a family. One year, we took them to New York City to Radio City Music Hall and the sights and sounds of the city. The last two Christmases, we visited my 96 year old great-aunt. Sadly, she passed away in April. This year we will be at home, thankful for the companionship of each other. We will watch old home movies and share old photos of loved ones who are no longer with us. Wishing you and your family a joyous holiday season.
That was such a beautiful post…..I will savor those words to help me get through the next few weeks. Thank you…
Thank you for this beautiful post during the most stressful month. I was so impressed with your blue paper and stars, I forwarded this to my son with two children ages 5 and 2. It needs to be so much more than “what am I going to get!”
“Those who are the happiest, never did have everything. But rather they are thankful for everything they have.”
Thank you for your honesty! I get caught up in the material desire but really am so blessed to have such a lovely sanctuary for my family! And comfort beyond what’s imaginable for mist people in our global community – it’s really easy for me to be drawn into that lack consciousness instead of gratitude for the abundance I am experiencing. <3
This was beautiful, and just what I needed.
The last few days have been much colder than usual here in northern CA. Interestingly, I find that I’m welcoming it. It invites me to relish the comforts of home all the more, to find joy in the coziness of my little family watching “Rudolph” together or reading books on the sofa. Instead of wanting to go out and run errands, I like the idea of hunkering down at home and being grateful for the warmth and the roof over my head. I take that for granted far more than I should.
Like you I sometimes think, in a secret place, I would like to skip December. Here in Australia it is 120deg each day so we are also hunkering down inside albeit with the air on not a fire! However, I too have found by thoughtfully considering what I enjoy about this festive season I am enjoying it much more this year. Letting go of expectations is an important part of this too. This Christmas there will be just my husband and I here, both our daughters will be with their in-laws. We were lucky enough to have them here for a ‘thanksmas’ dinner last weekend when we celebrated being together and enjoyed the Christmas tree with its lights and decorations. Handwriting Christmas cards, baking and making decorations are things I enjoy and focused on this year. Listening to classical Christmas music is calming and uplifting. Our gift list grows shorter and more simple each year as we are all so richly blessed already. This has helped focus on doing things for others and having time to enjoy each others company without rushing around. A peaceful and blessed Christmas to you and your family Katrina.
Every year I get pulled in to the collective anxiety that surrounds the holidays. It is hard, really hard, to stay grounded. Breathing helps. Reading your blog post helps. I think my goal, this year, is to spend more time being and less time doing, or worrying about doing. Thank you for the inspiration.
You have carried me to so many fond holiday memories! A bag of ready-mix cement for your brother, trowel included, the introduction to his world of construction! Or the bronze horse, that had been mine as a child, destined to become yours! I reached further to recall always having a Christmas tree in the barn for our animals. My brother and I would go, on horseback, into the woods to drag home the biggest tree we could find…yet one that could be comfortably hauled by our four-legged friend! It was to be decorated only with hand-made construction paper chains and ornament……bunches of carrots, bins of apples and hay to be put out on Christmas Eve for the reindeer! That was, after all, the night the animals talked! I know they did! I heard them.
I love this so much and identify with so much. I live the coziness of the best of Christmas but mostly I just feel overwhelmed. Some days I want to skip December too
I embarrassed to admit that we don’t really have any traditions that preserve the soul of the season besides baking cookies and Decorating the tree and getting out our special Christmas books and this bothers me. I love the idea of your starry sky of kindness.
What resonated most strongly was that the natural world is healing when we pay attention. Maybe we will start there.
Thank you for your beautiful words this morning. Exactly what I needed to read. Wishing you and your family a wonderful Christmas Holiday.
Katrina,
Made me smile to read your appreciation of what should be the dark nights of this time of year. A book for you and anyone else who finds peace and beauty in a dark winter’s night and who remembers the stars:
http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16131044-the-end-of-night
Katrina, I just replied to your lovely comment on my blog but want to repeat it here. This post about approaching the season of darkness and light, all the trappings of the holidays with consciousness and acceptance helped me get that post out of my head and onto the screen. Here are the words from your post that I took right to my heart: “Here in the pre-dawn darkness, I am seeing more clearly just what I wish to cultivate and bring into the light this season. Such simple things: love, laughter, ease, togetherness, gratitude, hospitality, joy. Perhaps it doesn’t have to be hard.”
Katrina,
For many years when my children were much younger, I taught a class to other parents on how to enjoy the waiting of Advent. It made Christmas much richer. Now that my kids are young adults, I find myself turning inward, also. I love walking at night in the starlight. I love cold (not so cold in Florida!), nights and the short days as we travel to the solstice.
The seasons have always been extremely important to me, and that is another reason why I’ve enjoyed your books~ you pay homage to the seasons.
A simple Christmas with trees and cookies and the trimmings, but also with silence, darkness AND light. That’s how I celebrate the season.