The holiday season is upon us, again. I can’t believe it. I am not quite ready to tackle the whole new year business but I’d like to speak to this time of year generally. It’s tough. Right? I mean it’s good, but in so many ways it’s tough. Obligations, expectations, and short, dark days. Don’t get me wrong. There is GOOD stuff too. Celebrations, family and friends, snow (yeah, I like it), and all the possibilities. And yet, there are challenges that present. This time of year there is a second-guessing, revisiting, reconsidering, and comparing that goes on in a rather aggressive and somewhat unique fashion.
There are people that absolutely live for this time of year and there are also those that wish it would come and go as quickly as humanly possible. I suppose I fall somewhere in the middle. There are bits and pieces of the holiday season that I truly enjoy and there are other parts I could do without. That said, I don’t want to write some tired post about the ills of comparing yourself to others. It would be easy to zero-in on that topic because certainly that is one of the more prevalent and dangerous situations that exists. What do I mean by that? Well, scrolling through social media or watching television (Hallmark?!) or even strolling around the stores will quickly make one aware of what they have or what they might not have. One need not travel far to be face to face with loving couples, tight-knit families, beautifully styled home spaces, and presents galore. So yeah, it’s easy to feel like less than or want or more.
Well, sorry to disappoint but that is not where I want to focus my effort or energy. I suppose that will be a component of what I am talking about here, but only a piece. What I want to talk about is how we feel about ourselves this time of year. Truthfully, I am not even getting into the nitty gritty of that self-exploration. Bear with me. All with reveal.
Stepping outside the obvious comparison to others that might happen, there is an inner process that goes on more this time of year than nearly any other, at least for me. Before we make resolutions (if we do), before we promise ‘new year, new me’, and before we make all sorts of plans, we take stock. We reflect. Typically, we criticize, chastise, and sigh… a lot. It feels heavy. That’s right, I said it. Amongst the lights and glitter and good cheer is a weight. A struggle.
And you know what? That’s really okay. It is. The problem for me is that I used to beat myself up for feeling this way on top of feeling this way. Double suck. Now I cut myself some slack. I recognize the feelings for what they are which is temporary and passing. I don’t get stuck in that place. I move through all of the gloom but it just takes me some time.
Here’s the issue though. It’s fucking exhausting. It is. It is tiring to identify this shit for what it is. It is physically draining to wait for it to pass. It feels lonely and isolating. It feels dark and like a giant sludge to wade through. Maybe you are a rock star in this regard (not said with any sarcasm whatsoever) but I recently realized that I am in fact not a rock star and I needed to talk about what was going on with me. This is a big deal for me. I don’t really talk. I mean I talk a ton, but not about me. In fact, I can probably talk you under the table when it comes to just about anything except for my innermost feelings. Crazy considering I’m writing a blog that does just that, right? Well, don’t take this personally, but I don’t have to face any of you. Not really. That’s not to say I wouldn’t or couldn’t or don’t want to. But generally, I don’t. Thus, the fear factor that exists when it comes to confiding, revealing, or just a general spilling of one’s guts, is not entirely present when I put fingers to keyboard. To the contrary, the experience of laying my thoughts out for you is cathartic and freeing. Here’s the catch…I needed a response this time. I needed a voice talking back to me. I needed to know that my words were hitting someone’s ears and not just hitting the black hole that is the Web.
So…I called my mom. We are super close but still, that isn’t as easy for me as it may sound. It’s incredibly easy to talk to my mom. Again, we can talk about nearly anything. She’s bright and funny and insightful. We don’t agree on everything but she is incredibly respectful when our opinions differ. I know she loves me unconditionally and still…still…it is brutally hard for me to open up about the stuff that matters. She called me a little clam and she’s right. You can bounce that damn shell off a wall and nada but crack it open and the littlest mush resides within. Vulnerable, soft underbelly. That’s how I feel when I open up. I feel like if I allow my shell to crack open, I’ll be irreparably wounded. Mostly because it’s happened before. Sure, it was reparable but man was it tough to recover. It took so much of what I have within me. So yes, I am hesitant to jump back into that recovery pool again. I am scared of people using my feelings against me and so I keep them as locked down as I can. Yes I will tell a goofy story or share an anecdote but where it really counts, I reveal little.
I am not sharing this with you to encourage such behavior. No sir/m’am. This behavior is incredibly damaging. I might be trying to protect my heart from harm, but I am also missing out on pivotal connection. I am connecting half-way instead of full board. Anyway, I digress. I opened my shell and I talked to my mama. I told her what I was struggling with and I didn’t hold back. I didn’t try and color things a certain way. I expressed my disappointment and sadness and fear. It was not easy for me but it was worth it. It was necessary because it gave me that gift of inexorable connection and also, well it made me feel better. I took some of those fifty pound weights off my chest.
I hope you aren’t too lost right not but if I have led you astray in any fashion I’d like the chance to rectify that. It is fucking scary to open up. Maybe for you it isn’t scary to be exposed but then if/when you are hurt, you are gutted. Same difference. Really. The only way through all of this, the only method of surviving the season’s doldrums, is to own it. Really own it. Radical accountability. Radical openness. Radical honesty. Radical courage.
These things cannot be done half-ass. You cannot sort of maybe decide you don’t want to feel this way and try to tiptoe around what is ravaging your body, mind, and soul. My apologies because I usually don’t dictate how you should do things. I usually tell you to find your own way through, perhaps fueled by a bit of ‘The Path to Worthy’ inspiration and support. This is a different scenario and thus, requires a little more tough love and a little less gentle guidance. You must fully commit to feeling better. You must dive in to the deep end. You must determine that you want to open up and leave behind the caveats and carve-outs and disclaimers.
This time of year is a bit of an Achilles heel for me. Maybe it isn’t for you and you feel it keenly another time. Maybe you feel all the feelings in a different season. Maybe this time of year won’t always feel this way for me. I certainly hope not. The thing is, it really isn’t about the time of year. You are getting that, right? That’s just a symptom. That’s just an irrelevant fact. The real big deal here is that you will feel things. Big things and little things. Some of these things I’ve already spoken to over my many posts. I’ve shared my two cents, my strategy, and my thought process. Some of these things are undefined. They are infinitely larger or definitively more granular. They are hard to identify or discuss but you must do just that. You must find a way to give voice to them. You must allow them to breathe. You must secure an opinion from someone you can trust.
That alone can be extremely hard to determine. Who to trust? What if they betray you? What if they judge you? You have to take a chance. I know, brutal. But true. You have to make the most intelligent, good-gut choice and go with it. Or maybe, just maybe, you are someone who needs to open up to a stranger. Maybe you find safety in the anonymity. That, my dears, I am not prescribing for you. All I am imploring you to do is take that poison in your belly and heart and GET IT OUT.
I didn’t solve all my problems speaking to my mom but I sure as hell felt lighter. I felt like I had a place to start. I felt not so sad and not so angry and a little less scared. I released some of the shame that seems to accompany secrecy. I cracked my shell. Just a little. For just a moment. In just the way that I desperately needed. It was scary but I survived and I think I’m better for it.
So yeah, open up. Find a way. Self-reflection is amazing but that doesn’t mean we don’t need others. We do. I do. You do.
Tis’ the season. Give it a whirl. Happy holidays, no matter your celebration (even if it’s just drinking hot chocolate in the cold). I’m absent next week as I’ll be hiking in the wilderness, so I’ll encourage a hiatus for you too. Disconnect from the greater [electronic] world and find just one (or two, or three) people to connect to, to confide in, and maybe, just maybe, to heal with.
Sending you love through the interweb. Talk soon.
Until the next…
L.
thepathtoworthy.com 