Find your JOY again! Holiday Lessons Learned.

Yesterday was Halloween. The holiday of costumes and candy was somewhat different this year because of the pandemic, but somehow we figured-out a safe way to host trick or treaters and social distance at the same time. We had a plan. We adapted. Was it the best Halloween I have ever experienced? No. However, the evening involved candy, kids in costumes (lots of Baby Yodas), and plenty of sweet words of appreciation.

The very next day, I slide behind the steering wheel of my car, pressed the ignition button, and the sound of Christmas music enveloped my rolling purse. My stomach immediately twisted while I reflected that the holidays were fast approaching. So much to plan, so much to do. Then I remembered that the next handful of weeks don’t have to be a time of over-commitment, long lists, and disappointment. Yes, I said disappointment.

I have learned, over the past twenty years or so, that it’s okay to say “no” (see blog post “The Power of NO!” link below), set limitations, have reasonable expectations and when things get overwhelming take a breath and delegate. Now , mind you, these weren’t lessons I learned overnight, but with time and the realization that Christmas does not have to be perfect. Also, my need to do everything with excellence needed to take a back seat to my family’s sanity. Yes, with my desire to create a Norman Rockwell Christmas, I was making my family crazy. And exhausting myself. The holidays had transitioned from merriment, family, and friends to tasks, commitments, and lots and lots of work. Sadly, I began to resent the months of November and December.

Here’s how I got my JOY back with some nonfiction events that encouraged personal change while allowing me to reassess priorities. Take heed of my lessons learned.

In the weeds.

It was three days before Christmas and my two cherubs had fevers and severe chest congestion. Nothing life-threatening, but my kids felt miserable and needed mom at their “beck and call.” Everything else had to wait. When my husband arrived home from work, I dashed-out to the pharmacy to purchase more cough suppressants before the store closed for the evening. Minutes before I left, I exclaimed to the love of my life that I was really in “the weeds” regarding Christmas. I had not wrapped one single gift yet, let alone completed all the necessary grocery shopping for impending family dinners and scheduled get-togethers with friends.

Here’s where I need to inform you that I received a ticket for making an illegal left turn into the pharmacy parking lot. The officer was unforgiving and didn’t have a festive bone in his body. Yep, I was issued a $175 moving violation three days before Christmas trying to purchase medicine for my children so that they could sleep peacefully through the night. Grrrrr.

Anyway, when I returned home, medicine in hand, my holiday spirit was depleted. As I entered my home my husband had started a fire in the fireplace, pushed most of the furniture to the outside perimeter of the living room, brought all the Christmas wrap, boughs, and ribbon up from the basement, and opened a bottle of Merlot. Waiting in the center of the room was a mound of unwrapped gifts ready for attention. For the next several hours we wrapped gifts, enjoyed wine, and laughed until our sides hurt testing-out Rock ’Em-Sock ’Em Robots.

The lesson learned: Sometimes you (or someone else) need to push a restart button to stop a downward spiral while allowing joy to re-surface again. My husband realized I needed help and stepped in establishing an environment of calm while helping to create a cherished memory.

Hail Kimberly Clark!

When my husband and I married, selecting the perfect china pattern was equal footing to almost any other important decision regarding our big day. Well, almost.

The marketing behind this very important decision focused on “how” people need to celebrate food-centered holidays, including Thanksgiving and Christmas. It’s all about formalities and impressions. Essentially, important celebrations should have expensive and proper plates, bowls, and cups. Otherwise, in the opinion of fine china manufacturers and Martha Stewart, it’s not a true, memory worthy event.

Nonsense!

When I started to embrace the notion of simplicity, I made a radical decision one Christmas. I was going to use paper plates instead of my formal place settings! I realized this was not the “greenest” decision, but as a mother, recovering from surgery, with two young children, I was breaking with tradition and going rogue.

Initially, my husband was shocked by my decision. But then, he realized the brilliance and progressiveness behind it. Gone would be the scraping of plates, handwashing of fragile cups and saucers, and the “fussiness” of the entire event.

Frankly, this decision proved to be liberating! Did the food taste any different? Nope. Were children on equal footing with adults? Yep! Were invited dinner guests disappointed? They didn’t appear to be.

The lesson learned: Ditch any pretentiousness and give the fine china a rest. Let simplicity rule and enjoy the day of celebration.

Let go!

I’m a list maker. I live in a world of color-coded Post-It notes that act as silent cues to keep me current and on schedule. My husband mocks my organization as “over the top.” But he does admit I don’t forget much (if anything) and our household “hums” like few others. When something is not organized I am unsettled.

A few years back, I looked at my post-its and realized that it was impossible for me to accomplish all the tasks that were inscribed on my 2x2 sheets of paper. I felt defeated. But then my son asked how he could help. It was at this time where I realized my oldest cherub was not a boy anymore, but a young man with a driver’s license. With this realization, I detached 6 of my paper reminders and handed them off to him. Grocery shopping, taking the dog to and from the groomer, and retrieving dry cleaning were just some of the tasks included on those notes. My son responded, “no problem, I got this.” Seriously, I felt as though 50 pounds were immediately lifted off my shoulders.

Then in another bold decision, I handed a few “notes” to my husband. The love of my love enthusiastically grabbed the pieces of paper and disappeared for a few hours. My daughter volunteered to decorate and box Christmas cookies, a task she was more than happy to accept. As for myself, I enjoyed a cup of coffee and read the newspaper before I completed my tasks. That evening, my cherubs, the love of my life, and I piled in the car and enjoyed hot chocolate while touring holiday light shows.

The lesson learned: Family and friends are generally more than willing to offer assistance if asked. Simplify your life by accepting aid.

The above stories offer just a handful of lessons that I have learned to simplify and allow joy back into my life. I had to realize and embrace that others can competently accomplish tasks that were fixtures in my routine. Perhaps, their methods and outcomes were slightly different than my own, but the relief I felt as well as increased opportunities for fun and relaxation made any differences a tradeoff bargain.

The bottom line is this: I still organize although I have traded Post-Its for electronic tools. Most importantly though, I have simplified my life and accepted help from others while utilizing the power of “No!’ The spirit for the holidays has returned for me and I can think of no greater gift.

Happy Holidays!

Peace, Love, and JOY!