My Christmas Story

I have something to confess.
I do not have a Christmas tree, nor did I buy any Christmas presents (except one, for my son).
I am spending Christmas all by myself.
It's been like that for the past four years. By my own choice.
I deeply and thoroughly enjoy these days - and I do love Christmas.

It’s that quick look and the barely noticeable pausing, as if to check whether I am ok, then the conversation continues. It started with: “So what are your plans for Christmas?” – and usually, this question is answered by a more or less routine list of items. Family, Christmas tree, gifts…. More or less busy times.

Not for me. I stay at home over Christmas - by myself. I don’t put up a Christmas tree nor do I buy any presents. And this is not because I don’t care for Christmas or because I want to revolt against something – I just enjoy it like that. To me, Christmas means quiet times, reflection, meditation, recovery, centering myself, freedom, faith, contemplation, sorrow, joy, reviewing the year, and making plans for the new one. All this I enjoy most - when I spend time by myself, quietly, at home.

But when I tell people about it, I notice a fear that I might be perceived as being weird and different. Christmas alone – that’s something you would expect from unsuccessful and unattractive people, people that have trouble with their families and in general do not like to be social. Somehow it is more “normal” and accepted to be sociable and family-oriented – especially around big holidays like Christmas.

As every year for the past four years, I said goodbye to my son early afternoon on Christmas Eve, when he left with his dad to visit his grandmother for a few days. I wholeheartedly love my son and my love for him grows every day. And I am so happy when I think of him sitting under the Christmas tree with his father’s family and enjoying his Christmas gifts. It’s a great gift to me that he can be there and I don’t have to be there with him.

And then “my” Christmas begins. Usually during the few weeks before, I get a sense of how I want to spend these days. Specific topics and question pop up in my mind, and I feel like I want to clarify them for the upcoming year. This takes place at home, with candles lit, lots of tea, some red wine, good, nourishing food, paper, pens; and part of it happens during my long walks and on my running tracks. I also use the time to throw away all the clutter that has accumulated over the year at home or for mundane things like work myself through my email messages.

As an introvert, highly sensitive and creative person such times are essential for my well-being. They nourish me, they give me back energy, they fulfill me, and give me direction.  And they give me time and space to see what I tend to oversee in the daily buzz: What a great job I am doing. What a wonderful of a mother I am to my son. It’s time for gratefulness towards myself – and some time to consciously practice treating myself out of this sense of appreciation.

This year, a few minutes after my son left: A feeling of boredom and being stuck hit me, out of the blue. My first reaction was: to hang in there and meditate through it. My second reaction was to book an approx. two-day vacation in a small hotel at the beautiful Tegernsee for the next day. Sometimes a small change in scenery beats every meditation :-) I took the train early next morning and here I am. My luggage included: Running gear (lakesite runs vs. Westpark Munich!), lots of lemongrass tea, a bottle of red wine, many blank sheets of paper, 2 pens. Plus it looks like I am going to finish watching the third season of Californication through the hotel WiFi by tomorrow (yes!).

So does that mean I feel at peace with how I spend my Christmas holidays? In a way yes. On the other hand, I do notice a feeling of not belonging to something most everybody shares. I always feel sorry when I see people totally stressed out over Christmas – but it seems they cannot share their “pain” with me. And sometimes I do sense some guilt about not being with my son over Christmas.
And, maybe most notable to me: I miss sharing my experiences with someone. Someone who maybe feels the same way about Christmas, or even if not, for some reason truly understands what I mean. Someone who does not look at me confused when I speak about my Christmas plans.

But in the end: As soon as I give my son a big, relaxed, and rested welcome hug – despite all the little tiny doubts, I know that I have done something really valuable for myself. And his dad and his grandmother have done something really valuable for my son. What a luxury that everyone had the chance to do what they enjoy!

I love Christmas – and I love wishing you a “Merry Christmas” from all my heart. So this is for you: No matter how you are spending your Christmas days: Enjoy them wholeheartedly and I look forward to hearing your stories.
Merry Christmas!
Patricia