Dear Perplexed,
You write about your post-holiday blues. You had no struggles during the holidays—no empty seats at the table from death or divorce, no family estrangement. Quite the opposite. You busied yourself with family and friends and your favorite traditions. You know the pop psychology of the post-holiday let-down: emptiness inevitably follows the long excitement from Thanksgiving to New Years. That makes sense. But isn’t there more to your malaise?
I think so. Your blues signal it’s time to reflect on what the holidays mean to you. Why do you put so much energy into the preparations? Schedule so many gatherings? Quest to create that “Christmas magic,” and throw so much time, money, and energy into those final months of the year, as the days shorten and cold descends?
The culture of Christmas sweeps us all along. It’s hard to resist this powerful current, the pull of promised peace and warmth in the bosom of nostalgia. Modern Christmas doesn’t just sustain us through the dark days and long nights; it’s a full-bore attempt to re-create idealized memories of Christmas and to pass them to the next generation, lest those magical moments of bright lights and color, endless feasts, freedom from school and work, the loving care of family made concrete in gifts that show we matter, pass away. It is, after all, “the most wonderful time of the year”. We probably never really experienced this ideal Christmas, but it lives in our imaginations, and it drives our annual Christmas quest. We want to “go home” again. Whether it’s a sojourn to the old family homestead or celebrations in our present home, Christmas is the time to connect with family and friends, to appreciate those who enrich our lives, and—above all—to be reassured that we matter.
Christmas, in short, rejuvenates the illusion that we can return to a magical friction-free past, and that this return will comfort. It’s the fantasy that regression cures. Then, when the regression fails, and all our heartfelt efforts disillusion us, we hit the blues. We’re once again reduced to our ordinary lives, our ordinary disappointments, one step at a time, no regressive promises beckoning on the horizon.
Of course, your longing to matter is a wonderful thing. There’s no shame in that. But we’re all tempted to look for love in the wrong places. We just have to catch ourselves in the wild goose chase for love.
You might use your blues to reflect and learn from your holiday experience. Write a note to your future self. What parts of the holidays brought pleasure? What left you cold and disappointed? Which traditions make sense in your life now? How are you clinging to the past?
Then, turn your attention to what’s meaningful in your daily life. Meaningful can be small. Maybe you enjoy a brief ski in the woods. Maybe you like to force daffodil bulbs, an early sign of spring. It’s an imperfect ephemeral beauty, a fleeting pleasure. It’s not a magical field of flowers that bloom forever.
It takes courage to let go of the quest for grand satisfactions. And to open ourselves to the pleasures at hand. But it’s the path that helps us grow into the reality of our lives.
Thoughtfully yours, Dr. Miriam