The music, the twinkling lights, and those ever-persistent sale ads—whether we like it or not, the holiday season is upon us. Right now, countless individuals are out hunting for “Black Friday” bargains, sneaking in shopping sprees even before the last turkey leg is picked clean.
Like many, I often find this time of year challenging. The joy of family gatherings has dwindled due to the demands of time and distance, rampant consumerism seems to overshadow the spirit of the season, and the absence of a holiday break adds to the weight of it all. With a sprinkle of seasonal melancholy and a partridge in a pear tree, I’d gladly jump to January 2.
There won’t be a grand family feast this year, and as Christmas approaches, gifts may be scarce. Finances are tight, and the calendar’s date doesn’t change that. I’ve never harbored resentment about lacking material things, but I do get frustrated watching others obsess over them.
I understand the allure of shopping—there’s a lot of pressure to buy gifts, indulge in heavy meals that leave you feeling sluggish, and spend time with relatives that might be better enjoyed in small doses. When such options dwindle, a powerful lesson emerges: Focus on gratitude rather than bitterness, and cherish what really matters.
During this season, I’ve found it essential to distance myself from certain online and TV content. I can’t bear to watch scenes of shoppers on Black Friday, pushing and shoving for deals on electronics, while the malls fill with chaos. Then, just like that, Christmas Day arrives, and the malls are eerily quiet. Families settle into their homes, the holiday spirit dissipating until December 26 when the frenzy for post-Christmas sales resumes. It’s as if some have forgotten the essence of Christmas altogether; it simply didn’t fill the void.
For me, the holidays felt different as a child—filled with wonder and devoid of stress. I recognize that for parents, it’s a different ballgame. Creating those magical traditions is invaluable and something I carry with me even today.
Growing up, my large Polish family would gather around tables overflowing with food and laughter. While I might remember a few special gifts, what stands out far more are the memories we created together—the cooking, the stories, and the annual outings. That’s what the holidays mean to me.
So, with every Black Friday advertisement and every complaint about the burdens of the season, I’m going to try my best not to roll my eyes. When someone laments about the pressure of gift shopping, I might gently remind them to reconnect with what makes that person special and how they want their gift to make them feel. Instead of racing around, I’ll encourage taking a moment to savor the sights and scents of the season, rather than overcommitting to events that leave them feeling drained. Perhaps they could pause to ask, “What do I want to remember?” And if they have kids, “What memories do I want them to cherish?”
Although this time of year can be tough for various reasons—like dealing with quirky relatives making “breast or leg man” jokes about a turkey, or those Lexus “December to Remember” commercials—there are still aspects within our control. We can choose to appreciate what we have and create memories worth keeping.
(And yes, while stepping off my soapbox, I might trip and have a piece of broccoli tumble out from my dinner attire.) Let the holiday festivities commence!
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Summary: The holiday season has become a whirlwind of consumerism, often overshadowing the true essence of togetherness and gratitude. While challenges arise, focusing on meaningful connections and cherished memories can transform the holidays into a celebration worth remembering.