Compost Studios

What’s worse than the stomach bugs laying people low? The holiday malaise that so many can’t seem to escape. Most stomach viruses last a little more than a day, but for many the holiday blues seem to hang on and on. It’s the time of year when all our hopes and disappointments are magnified, when sad and happy memories both bring tears. It may well be the most melancholy time of the year.

I hear complaints from people who have too many parties to go to and the loneliness of those who have too few. The sadness of those who are separated from family members over the holidays and the resentment of those who can’t escape family obligations over the holidays. There’s guilt circulating among those who know expensive presents can’t mend broken relationships and guilt infecting those who can’t afford to express their love in a gift. There are thoughtful people debating how to establish meaningful traditions and those who would love to ditch their traditions and just spend a long weekend in their pajamas.

In December, women everywhere join the Sacred Sisterhood of Perpetual Obligations. They are hollow-eyed--exhausted by shopping, card-writing, decorating, socializing, and baking. Overtired kids who have seen too many Santas, spent too much time at the mall, and been run into the ground by holiday parties and play practices. There are the men telling their partner to relax and not understanding why that comment is met with such looks of disgust and despair. At times it seems the snap in the air has more to do with the prevailing attitudes than with brisk weather. And all this is compounded by the December viruses, the uninvited holiday guests.

And yet, there are those moments when holiday cheer breaks through the gloom—when decorations make us smile and brighten a dark night, when the sales clerk smiles and you smile back because you know you’ve found the perfect gift for someone, when we find time to curl up and watch a movie or read a book to a pajama-clad child, when the mail brings a note from an old friend, when you look around the table and count your blessings in the faces there, when the choir sings and our eyes close and our hearts soar heavenward, when the curtain rises and the music starts and you’re drawn by the magic on the stage, when you see a candle flicker to life and find it possible to believe in miracles.

These are the moments I wish for you, wherever you are, however you celebrate. Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, a joyful Kwanza celebration.

December 17, 2006