When I admit that I don’t actually like Christmas, people act as if I’ve announced that I eat puppies for breakfast.

I understand that many other people love the holiday and look forward to it. I’m genuinely happy for them.  

The beloved holiday tunes that fill (ALL) the stores are enjoyable for me for exactly 2 days (and neither of those days is in November, btw). I always feel that I’m short on time and/or money, bopping from one event to another without making real connections and worried that I’ve forgotten something vital. I feel so overwhelmed with all the holiday “should”s that it’s very hard to feel any joy.

Some years ago, at the peak of my holiday stress-fest, we decided to begin celebrating the solstice. It was close enough to Christmas to feel we were celebrating the season, but far enough ahead that it was separate. It’s not something that anyone we knew at the time would celebrate, so we were free to imagine it as we wished. It’s evolved in minor ways, but our original version is the heart of it: we make a cozy dinner, eat by candelight, and don’t turn on any electric lights before bed. Sometime we light the fireplace or read to each other. Sometimes we just tell stories and snuggle under blankets. It is the most peaceful night of the year, and the only holiday thing we do that feels like a celebration.

It began as a gasp for air in a crowded and anxious time, and it’s become a long, slow exhale that I look forward to each year. The soft glow of candlelight makes the darkness around us more intense, and makes us more aware of the ways in which we literally and metaphorically push it back. The dark makes us quieter; it’s the one night of the year I’m guaranteed to not have to referee an argument between my kids. Dinner by candlelight feels luxurious. Our voices are lower. We stand closer together. It is us marooned on this tiny island of bright, and we are comfort and solace to each other.

A recent marketing email from Penzey’s Spices said something similar about Thanksgiving that has stuck with me: “Here’s your hopefully one in a lifetime chance to leave behind all that Thanksgiving is supposed to be and find the Thanksgiving that means something to your unique home.”

This holiday season, it’s going to be so, so easy to focus on all the things we’re missing thanks to the pandemic. Please show yourself some extra love. Make space for the things you care about. Don’t be afraid to change a tradition. Don’t be afraid to change it back. Let the slow, dark calm in. Nurture the things that grow in quiet. Blessings to you this season, however you are celebrating.