Struggling to get in the holiday spirit? You’re not alone, but here’s what you can do
If you’re finding it hard to get enthused about the holidays, you’ve got plenty of company.
Life is full of curveballs, and when those hit near the end of the year, they sure can throw a monkey wrench in the holiday spirit we’re all supposed to be feeling.
Illness, grief and winter weather can make the joy of the season seem out of reach, no matter how determined we are to be of good cheer.
The Winter 2022 tripledemic — COVID-19, influenza and respiratory syncytial virus — is putting a third year of viral dampers on our expectations for “ho, ho, ho!” happiness.
We do what we can to stay healthy, but it doesn’t always work. Just when you think you’ve turned the corner, the bug that sickened you boomerangs and you’re back in bed again.
It’s hard to be joyous when you’re too ill to lift your head off the pillow, except to make a mad dash to the bathroom.
Recent rainstorms have put a literal damper on many celebratory plans.
It can be worrisome when the deluge on the roof sounds like Santa’s reindeer are clog dancing up there.
Window-rattling winds topple trees and power poles and leave shrubbery hash on yards, sidewalks and roads.
It’s difficult to find holiday joy amid all that damage and destruction.
Do you like going caroling in a downpour? Holiday shopping in a windstorm? Attending a party or joining friends at a concert while soaked to the bone?
Probably not.
Some people have to be out in bad weather, which can be deadly to upbeat holiday spirits.
At least we usually don’t have to shovel feet of snow on the Central Coast.
Grieving during the holidays
Many of life’s curveballs can cause very lonely feelings.
It may seem that everybody but you is in the mood for fun and frolic, but I know that’s not the case — even when I’m feeling sorriest for myself.
The holidays can compound grief for many people, including us, with multiple causes piling on each other in a potential wave of woe.
Grief isn’t just about death of beloved family and friends. Job and financial insecurities, health concerns, family dramas, friends who’ve drifted away and the overlay of concern about today’s world can leave anybody feeling bereft and depressed.
About two years ago, my husband of 44 years died.
Getting past that early December anniversary was hard enough, but it’s followed almost immediately by what would have been Richard’s birthday, as well as Christmas, New Year’s Day and our wedding anniversary.
I think we’re doing pretty well most of the time, all things considered, leaning on each other, devoted friends and family members for comfort and understanding.
We’ve come a long way emotionally since Richard’s death, but there are still huge holes in our hearts and our holiday expectations.
While we know that’s normal, it doesn’t make for a merry season.
Laughter needed
One of the things I miss most all the time, but especially during the holidays, is sharing spontaneous, contagious, ridiculous laughter, the kind that arises out of nowhere and lasts far beyond what the chortle trigger deserved.
Even shows, cartoons and situations that used to make me giggle and guffaw don’t seem to tickle my fancy as much.
I miss Richard and my other laugh buddies — the upbeat people in my life who saw life through fun-house glasses, who smiled and chuckled a lot, who said funny things and shared their joy simply by being who they were.
Like my late husband, some of those friends have died. Others have moved away and lost touch, or gotten so old and ill that their senses of humor have tarnished like a buried silver trinket.
It seems harder these days to feel funny or lighthearted.
Lots of us feel that way, judging by attitudes reflected on the streets, in stores and everywhere else.
When people do get together, many of them don’t seem to communicate as easily or openly as they used to.
Maybe it’s a holdover from coronavirus pandemic isolation, when the norm was keeping in touch via social media. For many, that got to be a habit.
It’s not the same as face-to-face contact, though. Twitter doesn’t hug.
Good fortune can shine through depression and worry
I regularly remind myself that I’m luckier than many people.
I’m blessed with supportive family and friends who are there for me at the drop of a text or phone call.
I have my work, my home, transportation, food and a kitchen in which to prepare it.
I can enjoy a warm shower, put on clean clothes and a happy face and get ready to enjoy the season.
Remember that, even with its monkey wrenches, life is 90% attitude and only 10% what happens to you.
So I regularly remind myself to buck up, buttercup. Play catch with life’s curveballs. Start with a smile, then mean it. Go have fun, laugh, sing, dance, hug and be as merry as you can.
We can do it. Yes, we can. We can say “happy holidays” and not only mean it, but feel it.
