How to Holiday, Part 2

all I want for Christmas is clear communication

I’m finishing up this article with my laptop perched on my knees, speeding north on Interstate 81 with my eldest at the wheel. I flew down to Atlanta on Wednesday evening and have spent all day Thursday on the road, bringing Caroline home for winter break. We’ve been singing along with Christmas playlists on Spotify, making plans for the next month, and generally getting reacquainted after a very full fall for both of us.

Charging the car, fueling our bellies at a general store in rural Virginia, where Christmas everything is on sale

A few weeks ago, in How to Holiday, I offered some suggestions for how to approach the clamor of December with greater intention. This week I want to add some thoughts I’ve been kicking around for our collective consideration—simple, but not always easy:

Communicate Expectations

A coach colleague shared two questions she uses in her work with teams:
What do you need from the group?
What do you offer to the group?

If you’re a woman reading this, and especially a mother, chances are you carry a weighty burden of expectation this time of year. Christmas magic has a lot of labor behind it, and frequently that labor falls to us. I know someone who practically makes herself sick every year when a bunch of loved ones arrive at her door, expect to be fed and entertained, and do very little to help. I imagine it’s frustrating, and I’m pretty indignant on her behalf. I also suspect it’s never occurred to these guests that the host is anything but overjoyed at this chance to provide a magical Christmas, since she’s really good at it and makes it look effortless. 

I’ve been noodling on these two coaching questions as a springboard for conversation around holiday expectations. In addition to our college kid, who’s now lived on her own for almost three years, two of those in her own apartment, we also have in-laws coming for a long visit at Christmas. I’m wondering if there’s a graceful way to help us all get clear on our various expectations and needs, yes, but also our potential contributions. My college kid may want freedom and independence and resent being tied down to rigid family schedules; my in-laws are coming from out of town and may be relying on us to suggest activites and drive the fun. Notice I said “may”; how will I know unless I inquire?

But is there a way to ask “what do you offer” in a way that doesn’t feel transactional? Any ideas, folks? Because I’m a big fan of the idea that hospitality is a practice of mutuality. We bless one another in the ways we give to and receive from one another. That’s not about guests earning their keep or evening the score; it’s about recognizing one another’s gifts as valuable in God’s radical economy.

I don’t know who first said it, but it’s true that unspoken expectations are premeditated resentments. Getting clear on what we need, and what we’re prepared to contribute, can keep resentments at bay.

Check In With Yourself (continued)

I wrote about this in the previous post, but I want to be more specific: check in with your body. Are you feeling settled, content, regulated? Or is your nervous system in full activation? I recently recorded a video about this for supporting subscribers, but it’s now available to everyone because I think it’s such important stuff: 

I got caught by this a few weeks ago during the Thanksgiving holiday. We decorated for Christmas that Friday—grandparents, parents, kids, and a couple friends/significant others—nine people in all, clustered around the tree, sipping on drinks and munching on pretzels and mixed nuts. At one point, Robert and I were alone in the kitchen, and I gestured toward our almost-grown kids, here with their special people, laughing together with one another and their grandparents, and I said to him, “This is my dream come true.” 

And then I crashed the next day. Saturday morning found me completely out of sorts, irritable and clattering around the kitchen (my biggest tell).  

How could this be? Friday’s night’s activity was everything I’d wanted. But even positive experiences can overload our circuits, especially this time of year, when many of us stuff our schedules full of all the things we love. This year I want to be more mindful of how my body is experiencing what’s happening, and build in some re-regulation work, whether it’s a walk around the block or a short time-out in a quiet room. (This article has some great thoughts on navigating the holidays, especially with neurodivergent kids… but the principles apply to neurotypical kids. And adults of all stripes.)

What’s helping you move through this time of year with grace?

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What I’m Up To

• I received an abundance of responses after last week’s article, Affirming the Wrong Things. Your stories and your “same heres” give me energy, courage, and strength. Y’all are the reason I talk about this stuff publicly. For those who offered good wishes, prayers, and loving concern, asking “what can I do?”: thank you. We’re doing well, and when we’re not, we have extensive supports at the ready. I couldn’t (and wouldn’t) write about our journey without having that in place. Keep in mind, too, that there are people you know right now who are struggling in silence and/or without that support. How might we create a world where that’s not the case? That’s the question for us all. I’m so grateful for your kind desire to help, but that’s “what you can do.” Imagine that world, and create it.

• This week for supporting subscribers: speaking of managing overwhelm, I share a video of a favorite practice for moving through anxiety, but it’s also good when you want to savor the moment. It’s a versatile practice! This video is part of an ongoing series–more to come later in December.

• I’ll be in the Raleigh area for a Day of Learning in May.

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Link Love

Any Doctor Who fans out there? I have to brag on my fantastic niece, Jenny Geist, who put together a smart YouTube explainer about the significance of trans representation on the recent holiday episode:

Steady on.