[O hai. It's December Days time, and this year, I'm taking requests, since it's been a while and I have new people on the list and it's 2020, the year where everyone is both closer to and more distant from their friends and family. So if you have a thought you'd like me to talk about on one of these days, let me know and I'll work it into the schedule. That includes things like further asks about anything in a previous December Days tag, if you have any questions on that regard.]
So here's a question that got asked a lot of me while I was in a less-good state than before, and that I still end up asking myself at least once a year.
To try and answer that question, I'm going to turn to other people's frameworks and writings to try and make sense of the question. In 02019,![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
siderea presented an idea that there are several different things that all claim the name of Christmas, but are significantly distinct from each other. The title of the post is "Why Christmas Hurts," and then goes forward to explain that these differing definitions of Christmas produce different expectations of what Christmas is, and if the Christmas that's happening around you or to you or that you are trying to make happen doesn't line up with those expectations, often through no fault of your own, then Christmas hurts, and you might wonder if there's something broken with you for not enjoying the holiday season like everyone else around you seems to be doing.
This is a duck problem, first and foremost. What you are seeing that looks like serene gliding on top of everything is the result of frantic paddling and churning underneath. The only difference is that you know how much you are paddling, but you can't see how much everyone else is, and so based on observations, it looks like the only person having a problem with all of this is you. Unfortunately, when we get to see portrayals of all of the work and stress that goes into making a Christmas, or any other gathering, it's either played for laughs (look at the person doing so much work for an audience that clearly isn't interested in it, watch the over-working person have things go wrong for them in comedic ways until they learn to let go enough to enjoy what's happening instead of trying to make it perfect) or for drama (the person who is trying to make this situation work is the only sane person in a room full of people who will snipe, attack, and otherwise try to make each other's existence miserable while they are together, until the only person trying to get everyone to get along explodes in a big ball of emotion, and because everybody feels bad at harshing the squee of the one person who enjoys this, they all make a bigger effort to get along and/or finally resolve the petty grudges (and the bigger ones) that have been holding them apart and making them miserable around each other), and rarely do we see situations where someone is putting in a lot of effort to do something that will go over well for an appreciative audience, even if they are clueless about just how much work goes into this, or an audience that knows how much work goes into it and tries to relieve some of that stress or otherwise be helpful so that the person who keeps taking on the responsibility doesn't burn themselves out. We don't have many healthy portrayals of family gatherings, where things go perfectly fine, but there doesn't have to be a spotless house and a pristine set of decorations and everything perfect and in its place. Or a gathering where a couple of people start getting on each other's nerves, but they figure out how to settle things or they make good decisions for themselves to try and stay away from each other as much as possible.
( A much longer explanation follows )
So, I suppose the answer to the question is that the Christmas Spirit is either looking for things that I'm choosing not to participate in or that it's asking too much of me of the things I do want to participate in. I had a perfectly good Midwinter already, and I've indulged in the parts of Christmas that I want to participate in, and if that doesn't meet someone's else's idea of what Christmas is and what I "should" be doing to celebrate it, well, tough shit.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to reading the Yuletide archive.
So here's a question that got asked a lot of me while I was in a less-good state than before, and that I still end up asking myself at least once a year.
Where's Your Christmas Spirit?
To try and answer that question, I'm going to turn to other people's frameworks and writings to try and make sense of the question. In 02019,
siderea presented an idea that there are several different things that all claim the name of Christmas, but are significantly distinct from each other. The title of the post is "Why Christmas Hurts," and then goes forward to explain that these differing definitions of Christmas produce different expectations of what Christmas is, and if the Christmas that's happening around you or to you or that you are trying to make happen doesn't line up with those expectations, often through no fault of your own, then Christmas hurts, and you might wonder if there's something broken with you for not enjoying the holiday season like everyone else around you seems to be doing.This is a duck problem, first and foremost. What you are seeing that looks like serene gliding on top of everything is the result of frantic paddling and churning underneath. The only difference is that you know how much you are paddling, but you can't see how much everyone else is, and so based on observations, it looks like the only person having a problem with all of this is you. Unfortunately, when we get to see portrayals of all of the work and stress that goes into making a Christmas, or any other gathering, it's either played for laughs (look at the person doing so much work for an audience that clearly isn't interested in it, watch the over-working person have things go wrong for them in comedic ways until they learn to let go enough to enjoy what's happening instead of trying to make it perfect) or for drama (the person who is trying to make this situation work is the only sane person in a room full of people who will snipe, attack, and otherwise try to make each other's existence miserable while they are together, until the only person trying to get everyone to get along explodes in a big ball of emotion, and because everybody feels bad at harshing the squee of the one person who enjoys this, they all make a bigger effort to get along and/or finally resolve the petty grudges (and the bigger ones) that have been holding them apart and making them miserable around each other), and rarely do we see situations where someone is putting in a lot of effort to do something that will go over well for an appreciative audience, even if they are clueless about just how much work goes into this, or an audience that knows how much work goes into it and tries to relieve some of that stress or otherwise be helpful so that the person who keeps taking on the responsibility doesn't burn themselves out. We don't have many healthy portrayals of family gatherings, where things go perfectly fine, but there doesn't have to be a spotless house and a pristine set of decorations and everything perfect and in its place. Or a gathering where a couple of people start getting on each other's nerves, but they figure out how to settle things or they make good decisions for themselves to try and stay away from each other as much as possible.
( A much longer explanation follows )
So, I suppose the answer to the question is that the Christmas Spirit is either looking for things that I'm choosing not to participate in or that it's asking too much of me of the things I do want to participate in. I had a perfectly good Midwinter already, and I've indulged in the parts of Christmas that I want to participate in, and if that doesn't meet someone's else's idea of what Christmas is and what I "should" be doing to celebrate it, well, tough shit.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to reading the Yuletide archive.
