Trading holiday madness for holiday joy

A lot of people have been stressing over holiday preparations. I decided a few years ago that I would no longer fall into that trap. This is the first year I’ve managed to do it without much residual guilt, so this year is sort of a strange witnessing experience for me, where instead of being caught up in my own holiday madness, I have the opportunity to be aware how everyone else runs around doing what they think must be done or . . . or what? The holiday will fall on our heads like a big rock? Santa will fall out of the sky? Rudolph’s red nose will explode? The days will keep getting shorter instead of lengthening again, until they disappear? The Solstice is past now, so we can rest assured that didn’t happen. Whew!

In truth, each person tends to accomplish the things that are most important to that person. I know that sometimes in the past I wasn’t even conscious of what was really important to me. I was more conscious of what I thought was expected of me, or what everyone else seemed to consider important. I wanted everything for the people I loved, forgetting that what everyone really wants is . . . love. I felt guilty about what I didn’t do, or sometimes even resentful about what someone else didn’t do to help. But the important things got done just the same. Why can’t we be content with that and spend the rest of the time enjoying each other’s presence, or our memories of those who can’t be with us?

Sometimes it’s better to focus on what does get done and simply be happy with that, especially around the holidays, which seem to overwhelm all of us with expectations of perfection — whether out of a need to recapture our childhood and a feeling of being taken care of, or to recapture our childrens’ childhoods, or for some to capture a childhood they didn’t get but have always wanted.

I have wished many times that I could get everything right, for even one day of the year, but I don’t. I never have, no matter how hard I worked at it, no matter how frantic I got or how I urged others to take part in my visions of the perfect whatever — and I can be as much of a control freak as the next person. Expectations of perfection tend to leave us unsatisfied and always wishing we could do better. And yet our expectations seem to increase each year, working us into a kind of frenzy.

My new goal is to be happy with imperfection, for this season and all future ones, in fact all year. I want to look at what I accomplish and say, “This is enough. I did my best for now, and I am enough.” If I can achieve a day of joy with myself and those around me, maybe that’s the best I should wish for, regardless of whether the table is perfect, or the turkey perfect — or, in our case this year, the chicken. I can be joyful, whether everyone gets exactly the gift they want, or a card on time, and even regardless of whether I get to be with the people I want. I have lots of memories with my loved ones, and I cherish them this year as much as ever, right here in my heart, as always. They know I love them, and I know they love me. That really is the most important thing, isn’t it?

If this is supposed to be a time that we celebrate peace and love, then why do we get ourselves so wrapped up in these perfectionist delusions? Maybe it has to do with winding down the old year, and some pressure that builds from the notion that we needed to make this year better than any past year, or that we have to make next year even better, on and on until the years run out. This is madness, isn’t it? Where does it come from? It reminds me of working in a place where doing one’s work well and on time means future expectations are even greater, that the quality/production machinery gets cranked up, and pretty soon everyone’s running around like Lucy Ricardo and Ethyl Mertz trying to keep up with that crazy candy conveyor belt. Those are the kinds of jobs that kill people before they have a chance to retire and enjoy all they’ve earned — if there’s anything left.

My wish for everyone I know is that they’ll step off that track filled with holiday madness (or any other flavor of perfectionist madness) and simply enjoy a pleasant time with loved ones, basking in the lack of any need to be perfect. Laugh about the errors made attempting to get everything to the table on time, or the overdone food, or the dust on the mantle. The world only needs one Martha Stewart, really. She’s wonderful, but unique. Heaven help us if anyone ever decides to clone her. Or me, for that matter, with my trail of dustbunnies scattering behind me at the other end of the housekeeping spectrum. You ARE perfect, each of you, just the way you are. That’s why the rest of us seek to be with you all year long, or wish we were when we aren’t. You, just as you are, are the true gift we all cherish, right here in our hearts. My suggestion is to throw out the To Do List, and replace it with one that has only two goals on it:

• Have fun.
• Be happy with whatever you and your loved ones get.

Consider that failure is impossible. The one with the most gifts or the least doesn’t usually notice. If they’re aware of the world around them, they know they’re lucky to get any, and if they don’t know that, we’ll leave them to their innocence this once. Most guests don’t see the table setting, especially what’s missing from it. If the turkey takes too long to cook, you can eat the pie first. The dessert police won’t arrest you. They don’t work on holidays. Keep peanut butter and jelly or canned soup on hand in case the oven breaks (it happens).

I wish you fun, laughter, and contentment this year, creating or reliving memories that are special and uniquely yours, rather than magazine-like, cookie-cutter perfection where people are afraid to touch anything. May you be content in a life and in love well spent. Love to all of you and those close to you — just as you are.