There’s a time and a place to muster our positive perspective. Still, there’s also something to be said about recognizing when we’re struggling but still avoiding the temptation to distract, deny, or delay discomfort. For me, this is the epitome of the holidays.
As families around us prepare to travel back to see their mothers and fathers, brothers and cousins, I can’t help but feel as if I’m missing out on something valuable. The holidays have always been a mix of emotions, but more so since the loss of my parents. And the relentless disruptions brought about by COVID-19 aren’t helping.
My extended family gatherings were epic. Christmas, Thanksgiving, even Fourth of July (though that’s an entire story in and of itself). And while it’s easy to wish we could recreate those beautiful memories, that yearning can sometimes make the present harder to accept. I’m not saying that we need to deny our feelings of loss, or cover up our sadness with a fake smile. In fact, it’s in denying those negative feelings that we cause ourselves more strife. Sometimes our feelings around the holidays can only be described as ick, and that’s okay. In those moments when it seems like no amount of chocolate or sappy movies can cure our negative feelings, the best thing we can do is accept the complexity of our emotions.
Just the other night, I was feeling particularly grumpy about the way my day had played out. I’d spent the bulk of my time running around doing unexpected last-minute things for others when all I wanted to do was wrap presents in my pajamas to the sound of a sappy holiday film. My desire to slow down, coupled with my sense of obligation to do all the things, caused more strife than was worthwhile.
Typically, this inner struggle between obligation and self-care is a feeling I try to escape – through distraction, denial, and most of all, dessert. But instead of trying to act chipper and sunny that night, I allowed myself to be grumpy, owning my feelings of exasperation. I let it sink in without trying to seek any silver lining. I surrendered to the discomfort and let go of the need to “fix” anything. And do you know what I discovered?
Acceptance and peace can coexist with feelings of disappointment and frustration.
It’s unreasonable to be chipper, happy, or even grateful all the time, even during the holidays. When emotions run high, positive or negative, it’s in everyone’s best interest to be more honest about our feelings so that we can move through them. To quote the wise writer of the children’s book We’re Going On A Bear Hunt, “We can’t go over it. We can’t go under it. We have to go through it.”
Here’s me “going through it.” This is the time of year when I miss my parents the most. I worry about my brother’s safety, and I recall fond memories of years past with my extended family. And because of this pandemic’s borderline obnoxious efforts to have us all turning inward to reflect ad nauseam, I’ve also found more opportunities to cultivate feelings of peace with what is.
No longer caught up in the chase for endorphins brought on by holiday memories past, or wallowing in things I don’t have control over, I’ve come to appreciate the bittersweet nature of the holidays, and by extension, life in general.
It’s not about capturing joy or wallowing in misery. Nor is it about chasing or possessing. It’s about recognizing the complexity of the human experience – the emotional slurry that arises from our circumstances – and allowing them all some airtime.
For better or worse, Inside Out got it right when they showed Riley’s dichotomous feelings mixed together into a balled-up memory. The visual image of a multi-colored ball, representing the complex play of emotions through Riley’s memories and experiences, is utterly relatable (and brilliant of Pixar).
No single event in life can be described in a single emotion. There’s complexity in love and loss, parenthood, and growing older. The key, I suppose, is to allow this complexity to exist without judgment, making space for seemingly dichotomous feelings to coexist. We stand to gain so much more from working towards emotional honesty than seeking emotional comfort.
Sadness and disappointment aren’t in opposition to happiness and joy. They’re not even in defiance of the holidays. In truth, they’re more like those balls of colorful emotions in Riley’s memory – inextricably intertwined, one unable to exist without the other.
What I guess I’m trying to say with these Pixar references and my stroll down memory lane is that it’s okay to struggle with the holidays, especially this year* – to feel upset, frustrated, disappointed, even lonely. Acknowledging our icky feelings is just as important as recognizing our joyful ones. Just remember that by making space for those undesired feelings, we’re also making space for joy and happiness to arise.
* It wasn’t until the second year after my mom’s passing (and my father’s, for that matter) that I felt the full weight of their loss. The year of first’s without them was full of milestones that keep their memory at the forefront of my mind. But by year two, life was back to “normal” for everyone but those of us who were closest. In both instances of loss, the second year was when the loneliness felt heaviest.
I feel a similar sentiment all around me as we enter this second COVID-affected holiday season. All the more reason to be gentle with yourself and those around you. You never know what someone’s going through, but it’s probably a pretty safe bet that we’re all enduring some heartache.
Click play and listen to this article. Read by Anon Gray.
