What is it that makes Christmas and the season attractive? Naturally, there are the various elements of the seasonal aesthetic: the snow, the lights, etc. But I’m willing to bet it’s far more than such superficiality. One thing that makes the holiday season so appealing, is what some might refer to as the ‘spirit of Christmas.’ But what is that, exactly? The kindness with which we treat one another, even strangers? Well, I think these things point in the right direction, but the truth of it, I think, is deeper.
What is appealing about kindness, even if it’s seasonal? At the very least, it must be that it provides a sense of security and belonging. And that’s something we don’t always get. The industrial nature of global capitalism and the role we all play in it means that we’re expected to strive for material success, at all costs. Growth, acquisition of goods, and material improvement of self are the goals we’re told we need. We are bombarded with messages telling us to have more and thus be better. But this results in harshly competitive individualism. We’re in constant competition with one another for more and better. And so, when this constant ‘me vs. the world’ reality dissolves temporarily with open kindness to one another, we get a glimpse of what humanity evolved to be: communal, sharing, compassionate. These are attributes that don’t always aid the capitalist drive for more and so for one month a year, we can be all these things so long as we buy lots of stuff in what I’d argue is often an ultimately inauthentic attempt to display acknowledgement of those that are most important to us.
And that’s what I think the Christmas spirit really is about: recognition and belonging. That’s what we all love about the season. It is the reason why we put so much effort into upholding the imposed traditions—for better or worse. We know that under all that fetishization of beauty, commodification of love, and rampant consumerism, the ultimate goal is the possibility of those most important and yet most elusive human needs of being seen and feeling a part of a community.
But can Christmas, the way the traditions currently exist, truly meet those needs? Let’s assess.
In Poland—as is the case elsewhere—Christmas traditions dictate that certain dishes be consumed. Personally, none of these traditional Polish Christmas dishes appeal to me and being subjected to eating them does nothing for being seen or a feeling of belonging (unless belonging comes from a shared sense of suffering, though I haven’t yet noticed this).
Shared meals also usually mean spending time with family. As a millennial with Boomer parents, to say that spending time with them is difficult is a slight understatement. Those with Boomer parents unenlightened to the richness of awareness that emotional intelligence and psychotherapy provides will undoubtedly understand me. And so once again, sharing a meal with people who, by rights, should be the first to see me, recognize my needs, and provide a sense of belonging but are incapable of doing so, is not reminiscent of anything Christmassy. Rather, these dinners feel like an obligation. Which brings me to my next point.
Christmas wishes. I find them to be the very definition of a platitude. How could any kind gesture be genuine and authentic when it is expected, when it is hardly anything more than an expected exchange of words—much like the way you would greet a stranger on the phone. “Good morning.” Well, yes, but is it actually ‘good’? “Merry Christmas.” Well, is it merry? Not when you sit at a table with self-concerned individuals who aren’t interested in, or capable of engaging you in any kind of conversation that appeals to you or has meaning for you. And this lovely unpleasantry only doubles when all said celebration-attendees are expected to give one another gifts.
What makes a great gift? I might argue that it’s something that falls between a thing you want, a thing you need, something utterly unique to you, and something you might not have thought of yourself or expected. That this is difficult to realize I won’t blame on family this time, although family, in their proclivity of ignoring your needs can be blamed, I think consumerism carries the bigger blame. Advertising has been telling us what we need for decades. The result is that gifts that could make you feel truly seen are rare. The modern lifestyle, fetishizing individualism as it does, hardly affords us the time necessary to understand one another in the way truly authentic presents require, and instead, the market is filled with things we don’t really want or need. That isn’t to say that thoughtful gifts don’t happen, but because holiday tradition obligates us to buy so many gifts, it’s hardly possible to do this well for everyone. For me, at least, receiving gifts has mostly been a disappointing affair. And the worst part about it is the platitudinous ‘thank you’ we’re obliged to utter after receiving gifts we don’t really want or need.
Thus, inauthenticity seems to reign supreme in the Christmas season. And yet, for an entire month prior to the actual celebrations, we're inundated with reminders about how happy and joyful we should be about this festivity. Any negative associations or feelings that come up for us then, immediately label us a Scrooge mumbling 'humbug.' This works to magnify a sense of isolation, of being unseen, magnifying, ultimately, the illness of individualism. It's no wonder depression is so common at this time of year.
So, if the potential for recognition and belonging is what we actually want during the holiday season, what we actually love about Christmas, perhaps we might introduce new (or return to old) traditions that provide for those needs, authentically.
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