Decking the Halls

The Holiday season is fast approaching, and there seems to be very little anyone can do to get out of it's path. Don't get me wrong, I love big holiday dinners, can't get enough of turkey, stuffing and pumpkin pie. I love little twinkling lights on trees and houses. I love the idea of wrapping gifts in beautiful, festive papers and ribbons. I love the idea of the holidays. I am not always so fond of the reality of them.

For some reason I have a picture of the holidays in my head that vaguely resembles something that Norman Rockwell would have painted. Snowy landscapes, children on sleds, a comely, slightly zaftig maternal type happily industrious in the kitchen while the handsome and grey templed paternal type cheerfully fixes some toy for a youngster. Sadly, my view of the holidays more closely resembles a cheesy 50's sit-com than reality has tried to teach me. The truth is that my holiday experiences have been Kafka-esque than Rockwell-esque (and by Kafka, it leans decidedly more towards The Trial than it does Metamorphosis. Seemed important to clarify that...).

I'm not trying to disparage big family holidays. I know people who have them and genuinely love them. However, such holidays just have not been the majority of my experience, and I am always surprised by how many people I know who feel the sane way. People who want family gatherings to be something more (or less) than what we end up getting. We walk in with the high hopes, only to leave feeling oddly disconcerted and unfulfilled.

Since I have finally faced the fact that the holidays for me are far more existential than quintessential, I am a happier person. Now that the unrealistic expectations have been set aside, holiday time has become much more enjoyable; in fact, the holidays that I spend alone are really quite lovely in my book. And that is what seems to baffle most everyone I know - why in heaven's name would anyone choose to be alone at Thanksgiving; or worse, at Christmas???

It is because in those moments I can bask in what I love about my family, what I love about my friends, and enjoy the quiet solitude of that affection and admiration. Move that Rockwell painting a little to the left and you will see the person sitting in the snowy clearing, alone and content, appreciating the hush of the forest, drinking in the landscape, just being in that moment. Happy because they know that the house is just over there; where there are family and friends and noise and chaos, ever changing but ever constant; still within reach, but at a happy distance. That person? That would be me.