Navigating the Holidays
By Katharine Adams
The Rural Ethicist
December 2024
Winter street scene. Photo: Josh Hild, Unsplash
The year has rolled into December again, despite planting May flowers in porch pots just a few weeks ago. Summer perennials clog our living room. A few stretch before south-facing windows, including the dancing Guara lindheimeri “Whirling Butterflies,” and a zingy, twirly-tipped ornamental grass called “Red Rooster,” a bronze sedge which may as well be like adding another club chair, with the space it consumes.
Spring’s breezes will again greet us; meanwhile, the cold season digs in its heels. Time once more to navigate the Berkshires’ frosty realm: sweaters, etched windows, hot soup dinners, and maybe a little holiday stress management.
From the Q&A mailbag, here are a few hopefully not-too-dubious holiday survival tidbits:
Dear Rural Ethicist,
What are some ways we might avoid the holiday chaos of over-committed calendars, stressful shopping, and inflamed family dynamics?
Sincerely, Holiday Hullabaloo No Can Do
Dear HHNCD,
First, admire your signature. It has spunk. But know it means business: enough with turning people-pleasing cartwheels and sweating over to-do lists. It’s one thing to lift ourselves up by giving, but quite another to drain our batteries down, trying to do more than is reasonable.
One idea: try to embrace chaos. Because, short of building an igloo to crawl inside (a remote option, anyway, amid warmer winters), chaos cannot be completely eradicated.
Instead, try to reframe having too much on your plate as “controlled chaos.” Expect to only control half of it. Instead of stressing over every detail, focus on what is achievable. Let the rest work itself out; everybody else is in the same boat. The holidays are messy and, in large part, meant for kids. Remember how much fun a mess could be? That was back before worrying about messes. Do what you once did with leaves on the ground, before you tried to control and preen the grass: roll with it! Dive right in and let the edges fly. Later on, circle the wagons to pitch in, clean up, and share memories. Accepting the chaos can make it feel more like fun because it permits spontaneity.
Regarding calendars and FOMO (fear of missing out), be selective: say “no” when you need to.
As for shopping, set a budget and stick to it. Keep an eye out for something handy and economical that you just know some friends will think is either a marvel, useful, or entertaining. Grab a few extra to stow on a “gift shelf.” It’s about being resourceful and prepared in advance. Bake extra cookies, if that’s your thing.
“Re-gifting” is now de rigueur, even an environmental proclamation. There’s no shame in shrugging, “Well, ya know? Maybe cousin Trudy could use these polka dot pot holders to go with her mod kitchen because I think I’m still good with my deer motif mitts.”
With family, keep traditions simple. Find levity in the little things. The best memories are made from the unexpected. Bundle up for a walk, or watch that old holiday classic movie together (again). Familiar lines get funnier when you can anticipate them.
Keep moving. Exercise, even a bit of cleaning, releases stress-busting endorphins, which are natural mood lifters. Moving seems to fix little problems that can seem otherwise monumental.
Volunteer, if you can. It’s a powerful mood booster because helping others brings perspective and fulfillment that gifts can’t match.
Practice gratitude to keep spirits lifted. Be tender with those who have lost much; the holidays can amplify sorrow.
Hang a string of lights; there’s something magical and uplifting about a twinkly glow in the evening.
Finally, the holidays are about joy and connection, plus eating a few too many goodies. Don’t worry about a little overindulgence; it can give you a good project in January. The functional term here is “a little” overindulgence; remember, it’s part of controlled (not total) chaos.
Surviving the December holidays requires a balance of humor and strategy. The key is to not sweat the small stuff. If you can navigate around that, you’re doing great!
Warmest holidays to you and yours. 🎄
The Rural Ethicist is a column about the culture of the daily mundane. It tolerates an occasional spider, values the bull in horse sense, and seeks the gleaming, stainless steel wisdom beneath a film of cooking grease. Above all, it cherishes the gem of our shared existence: family.
