By David Crow
Conversations
David Crow
It’s the holiday season, and in appreciation of all the readers who spend your valuable time to read my periodic passes at pontification, I’d first like to say “thank you.” In that spirit, I’d like to share a thought with those who feel stretched a bit thin by this season.
I don’t know when it happened, but sometime during my lifetime the end of the year “holiday season” expanded. Unofficially it expanded to fill the time from Halloween to Superbowl Sunday. Officially, meaning that it is time to hit the mall and go shopping, it goes from Thanksgiving until Jan. 1.
So here we sit in the middle of the holiday season, about halfway between being thankful and being reflective. We’re moving from eating turkey and watching football toward drinking booze and watching football. That little commentary on the content of our collective holiday celebrations should give us all a little pause, but is beside the main point.
The main point is that this season always seems a stressful time because of lists.
At the start of the holiday season we’re supposed to think up a list of people in our lives for which we’re thankful. Then we have to think up more lists: a list of people to send holiday cards to, a list of people to buy presents for, a list of people to invite to various celebrations as well as a list of the various other celebrations we will attend, and finally a list of things we resolve to attempt in the coming year.
That’s a heap of lists to add to our pile of work-a-day lists of things to do, places to go, people to see, honey-dos, things to clean and wash, things to fix, grocery shopping, books to read, websites to visit, a long and growing list of people, places and things we never quite seem to get around to and a list of things to do before we go to bed. Then as deadlines for completing the holiday season lists get shorter so do our tempers, while the lines and drives get longer. Seems a small wonder that the holiday season can leave even the most cheerful and organized soul feeling a bit ornery and bowed up with ill humor.
I’m not pointing out a problem of which any of us is unaware, but the question becomes “what to do?” Should we resign ourselves to feeling fit to be tied by our blizzard of lists, or is there a way to put the “holiday” back in the “holiday season”?
Fortunately, there is an answer, and it isn’t to get into bed and pull the covers over our collective heads until Jan. 2, although right about now amid the crush between being thankful and being reflective that sounds mighty appealing. The answer is if we lay those lists next to one another the people on them are identical. The people that make us thankful are the same people on which we should spend our time, talent and treasure and resolve to reflect on in the coming year.
In this holiday season the best gift we can give to those people on our lists is to take a minute and let them know exactly how they add meaning to our lives, exactly how they make us a better version of ourselves. We don’t have to stand in line at the mall or pull out our credit card to give that gift. All it costs is a quiet minute and, if you’re so inclined, a firm handshake or hug.
So to my family, friends and readers, whether you are present or absent, whether you are gone before or yet to come, I wish you all a happy and healthy holiday season and I look forward to chatting in the coming year.