Ghosts of Christmas

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Christmas can be such a polarizing season. Some people are enraptured by the sights and sounds, while others, lamenting what they have lost or never had, fall into despair. Why is it that a holiday can have so much power to drive our emotions? Why are some okay with their lives from January through November, but then feel despondent about their lot when the month clicks over to 12? Why do others allow stress to accumulate throughout the month, only releasing it with the ribbons on Christmas mornings? How is it that a holiday that emphasizes togetherness creates intense loneliness in so many?

It’s simple, really. There is no other time of the year as fraught with expectations as Christmas. And loneliness, stress, and disappointment hitch a ride on those expectations, sliding into our minds undetected. We can choose not to welcome them. We can use awareness to exorcise the ghosts of Christmas’s past and future, allowing ourselves to embrace the present and whatever gifts it brings.

Ghosts of Christmas Past

When I was young, I spent Christmas with both my parents. As with all families, we had rituals and traditions. I remember my mom making pineapple ham and my dad coming in from a bike ride, the smell of sweat blending with the scent of the pine needles on the tree. I remember the Christmas eve church services, with me squirming between them awaiting the tradition of opening one gift that night upon our return. I can picture our rides through town, viewing the lights in the trees and luminaries that lined the streets.

And then we were two. My parents divorced and my dad moved across the country. It took us some time to find our stride. Those first couple years felt empty; traditions carried out even though a critical member of the team was missing. We tried to keep it the same, fought against the inevitable change. It didn’t work. It never does.

Eventually, we created our own traditions, some carried through and some newly invented. We had a family friend join us for celebrations, her energy completing the triad. We took trips. We celebrated with other families. Sometimes we had money. Often we did not. But it didn’t matter. We let go of Christmases past and, in doing so, created wonderful Christmases in the present.

Scan 1

This was one of my favorite Christmases. My mom obtained and wrapped a refrigerator box and a washing machine box and assembled them to make a stocking. I was shocked when I woke up that morning and, at 16, it took a lot to impress me. Our family friend joined us and they both had fun laughing at me as I crawled through the endless “stuffing” that filled the stocking and surrounding wrapped gifts, many of which were inexpensive. This was a great example of how creativity and attitude matters more than money.

I’m thankful for those childhood experiences. They taught me to be flexible and to work within the present reality. As I entered into married life, my husband and I followed a similar model. We were lucky enough to be “adopted” by various families over the years. On some Christmases we traveled, and some we did not. Sometimes we saw family; more often we were devoid of blood relatives. Each year was different. And each year was wonderful in its own way.

Christmas
At my ex-in law’s on Christmas in 2001.

If you have children, realize that your attitude towards the holiday is more important than any traditions. If your family has changed, it is futile to try to recreate the Christmases of the past. But that doesn’t mean that your Christmas cannot still be wonderful.

Ghosts of Christmas Future

Not everyone is haunted by the past. Some people’s expectations are fixated on the future. It is easy to allow expectations to build. We expect Uncle Bobby to act differently than he usually does and we get stressed when his good behavior fails to manifest. We picture perfect children, gleaming and squealing in glee. We envision a table piled high with delectable goodies worthy of Martha Stewart’s kitchen. We allow our minds to ponder what glorious gifts might lie just beneath the wrappings. We watch movies filled with perfect families and see commercials pushing items, implying that they will make your life perfect as well.

christmas dinner at my mom's house

These daydreams may be pleasant, but they have a dark side. Unless you are visiting Martha, the spread will not be perfect. Your kids will inevitably allow grouchiness to overcome them by afternoon. You will probably not find the winning lottery ticket in you stocking. In other words, Christmas will be real. It is easy to become disappointed when we allow our expectations to grow well beyond our realities.

The ghost of Christmas future is often hardest on those who are or feel alone. The divorced parent who does not have custody over the holiday. The single person without family in town. At no time can you feel more alone than during a holiday that celebrates togetherness. But, you are only alone if you allow yourself to be. Let others know you do not have a family to celebrate with; the offers will likely come. Some of my best Christmases were spent with the families of friends or employers. If you’re willing to speak up and be vulnerable, you will find an open home and open hearts. They may not be family, but they are family for the day and sometimes that is enough.

Volunteers

If you prefer not to join another’s celebration, look for volunteer opportunities through church or Meetup.com. Helping others is a surefire way to get your mind off your own troubles. It may feel as though the whole world is paired up or celebrating with family, but that’s just the message, not the reality. You have choice in the matter. You can choose to suffer or you can choose to smile.

The Gift of Christmas Present

This year, my home will be full of family, yet none of them are related to my fiance or me. There is no tree in our  living room, nor lights on our house. I will be serving a vegetarian spread with nary a ham hock to be found. The kitchen will be messy and the plates will be mismatched (and chipped!). But there will be laughter and games. Friendship and smiles.

It won’t be like the Christmases of the past nor will it be a celebration in an imagined future. Rather, it will be the Christmas of now. Exactly as it should be. Let go of the ghosts lamenting the past and brush of those whispering of an imagined future and be with the Christmas of the present.

I wish you and your loved ones a happy (and real) holiday:)

Keep Dancing

Posted on by stilllearning2b

dancing

More, Please

Posted on by stilllearning2b

photo-182

My cat has developed a poor habit of late. She herds us towards her dishes and yowls incessantly, asking for more even though her bowls contain adequate amounts of food and water. It’s like she looks at them but doesn’t believe them. She can only be silenced by the sound of the food in the container where we store it. A simple mock pour will placate her for a time until she yet again demands more of what she already has.

It’s an exasperating habit, especially since she seems to be most likely to share her anguish between the hours of two and four. In the morning.

I don’t know what drives her need: fear? confusion? greed? dominance? Or maybe she just finds humor in making her humans dance.

The act, regardless of its motivations, drives me crazy. But I can relate.

There are times in my life when I exclaim that I do not have enough instead of seeing what I actually have.

“I don’t have enough time.”

Yes I do. But this sentence shifts the responsibility off of me and onto the rapidity of the earth’s rotations. Clever, huh? What I really mean when I use this phrase is that the purposed actions are not important enough for me to make time. Time is there. It’s up to me how I allocate it. It’s also up to me to learn to take responsibility for that.

“I don’t have enough money.”

This one is fear talking. I have enough money to live, to pay my bills and have some fun. What I don’t have is enough money to sooth my anxiety, a fallback fund large enough to quell fears about the future. I’m (slowly) working to build that fund, but in the meantime, I can work on the fears, many of which are rooted in unreality.

“I don’t have enough stuff.”

Yup, confusion talking here. It’s all too easy to get caught up in the idea that happiness can be bought. I find myself flipping through catalogues or fighting the urge to hit the stores when I am unsettled in some way. Material goods will only distract for a short time. Happiness can only be found within. And, the reality? I have the stuff I need.

“I don’t have enough followers/likes/comments/book sales.”

Let’s be honest. It’s nice to have people want to hear what you have to say. It’s nice to be appreciated. respected. It’s nice, but it’s also a slippery slope. It’s easy to get carried away with the numbers game, only feeling validated when they reach some ever-increasing quantity. The problem then is that you never feel satisfied with what you have.  I’m working on bringing my yogic mind to blogging and accepting what is rather than wasting energy wishing for more.

How often do we fail to see what we really have? How often do we wish for more than we need? Look at what you have before bemoaning what you want.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. My cat is yowling for more food.

 

 

Betrayal

Posted on by stilllearning2b

betrayed

Anniversaries That Aren’t

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Today would have been my thirteenth wedding anniversary. Thirteen years ago today, I married my high school sweetheart on an empty beach in Florida. The photos from that day capture the love we had. The youth. The innocence. The promise.

wedding pic

What would have been our tenth anniversary was the hardest. He has left five months prior and we were still legally married. I used a psychiatrist’s appointment as an excuse for a sick day off work (the last day before winter break and a planned trip to San Antonio). After the morning appointment, I took a Xanax (one of three I took during the whole experience) and spent the day in my bed in my friend’s guest room. I distinctly remember not wanting to be alone and feeling reassured that her husband and then her father were going to be there throughout the day. I couldn’t muster up the energy to be social. I don’t think I ever made it down stairs, but I remember listening to the sounds coming in my door. I spent the day in a fugue state – not awake and not asleep. I tried to read, but couldn’t. I tried to sleep, but that eluded me too. I cried. A lot. I wrote. I cried some more. I could not face that anniversary that wasn’t.

By the would-have-been eleventh anniversary, I was in a much better place. I was situated in my own apartment and in the early stages of a new relationship. It was still a very difficult day. A sad day. I went to work. I functioned. But I also broke down and cried a few times. I was afraid to be alone that evening and spent the night at Brock’s. I still mourned what had been lost, but I also saw hope for the future.

Last year, on would be anniversary number twelve, I felt okay. I didn’t feel like I was a damn holding back a wall of sadness that was waiting to crush me. I felt okay. But I didn’t trust it. I remember tiptoeing through the day, as if I might release the pain if I tread too hard. The pain didn’t come. I spent a normal (as normal as a middle school can be) day at work and spent a quiet evening on the couch with Brock.

And today? On lucky number thirteen? I’m alone at the moment and I okay. No, I’m more than okay. I’ve been aware of the date but it hasn’t hurt. I left a note for Brock this morning as this same date is a difficult anniversary for him for different reasons) and I received an image with the following quote from him on my Facebook:

Good relationships don’t just happen. They take time, patience, and people who truly want to be together.

That definitely helps keep any demons at bay:) I came home to Brock and his friend, who just had knee surgery, on the couch laughing and playing Call of Duty. It was a scene that made me smile – two friends helping each other and laughing while doing it. By the time I got back from the gym, Brock was at ju jitsu, where he will be until after I’m asleep (I’m pitiful in the evening). I’m alone on December 18, but I’m not alone. I’ve let people into my heart and they are with me even now. Oh, and Tiger and Maddy too:) It’s hard to feel alone when you have a 90 lb pit bull on your lap!

photo-181

Anniversaries that aren’t are strange things. They are meaningless and yet we mark them. It’s a time when we used to reflect upon the past years of the relationship. Now that the relationship is over, we find ourselves playing a game of “what if?,” wondering what this day might have looked like otherwise. These anniversaries are so piercing at first, the loss overwhelming and threatening to undo a year’s worth of work. But they don’t have to stay that way. We can let them soften, let them become mere curiosities on the calendar. I see it like a number line. I used to count the positive numbers away from my wedding day. Now, I am on the other side of zero, counting away from my divorce date. I can see today as would-have-been thirteen or I can celebrate it as it-is-three. I bet you can guess which view I choose:)

So, I am wishing myself a happy anniversary. And I am celebrating three years of loving and laughing and learning. That’s an anniversary I can celebrate every year!