Grown Up Holiday
There comes a time in every adult's life where they realize they are full-on grown-ups. Some say it's the first heartache, but those start when we're young, they are just smaller heartaches. They're still real. Some say it's when you finish college, get your first real job, or settle down. I have a different theory. I think we are truly adults when the holidays turn bittersweet. That's when you know you've finally reached adulthood.
We live vicariously through our children when that happens, creating the magic for them as much for ourselves. We borrow their wonder, even though we already know how it all works.
We are all sold the idea that Christmas time is magical, a time for giving. But the truth is, the holidays are also the time of taking. Because Life always takes as much as it gives. It's an inescapable part of the human experience. Life takes time, life takes loved ones, memories, stock. It's supposed to. It's how it works.
As I go through the holiday season, I am always reminded that at everyone's table, there is an empty chair, perhaps two, perhaps more. And there are a hundred types of loss. Not just through mortality. But we carry on, we play our Christmas mix, we decorate our homes, and all the while, the bittersweet of the holidays looms large as we try to keep up the good cheer, despite a secret, breaking heart.
The way for me to deal with the bittersweet is to remind myself that others are feeling it as well. People all over the world have an empty chair at their table. Some have lost spouses, parents, siblings, or children. They put on a good game face, but in private moments, the sorrow tugs inside of their chests like a hanging weight. I acknowledge my own weight inside of me. I don't try and fight it. If you resist it you end up entangled in an inner war, one that you won't win. The grief will find you, even at times you least expect it.
So give yourself the gift of authenticity this year. Give yourself the gift of accepting your humanity. Grieving is not bad; it's not a negative. Feeling empathy and compassion for those who grieve is not a waste of time. By doing that, you give your fellow human beings a gift that can't be valued. You are giving them a gift of solace and comfort where they might have felt isolation. It's okay--I promise. Putting up the Christmas tree with tears running down your face is all right. Let your feelings be. Baking your mother's bread recipe while a lump resides in your throat is okay. Allow yourself to celebrate your humanity--allow yourself to appreciate the moment, because that's all we have. Right now.
Allow your children to see you grieve. Tell them stories of your parents. Let them see your love for them. Let them see your loss. You are giving them permission to be human. You are teaching them authenticity.
So many people preach this idea of focusing on the positive and de-emphasizing the negative. They won't let a negative thought or feeling get them "down"--they fight. But I promise you--you don't have to do that. Grief won't kill you. Yes, it can hurt, but what's wrong with that? Ultimately, grief will engender a feeling of gratitude and love for yourself, your life, and those around you. Don't be afraid. You are not stronger if you shut down a part of yourself. That is the coward's way out. The person who is the strongest is the one who can embrace all aspects of himself and stay standing despite the storm.
This is my call for peace on Earth. If we acknowledge suffering, we can also acknowledge the joy. By allowing both sorrow and joy to reside in us, our hearts will open to others' suffering and joy--and this is where understanding begins. This is where love and respect begin. That, and peace--within and without.
So Happy Holidays to you all. I honor your joy, and I honor your pain. I feel for you this time of year. I understand that the Holidays are bittersweet. But we are all adults now. It's okay that I've grown up. It's okay that you have, too. The real magic of the season resides in our beautiful, flawed, astonishing humanity. Live and love well. Do it with everything you have. If you do, nothing will ever be the same.
