The holiday season comes loaded with lots of stuff. Literally, metaphorically, and beyond. When a WashPost article about the stuff of Christmas arrived like a big-box gift recently, many had to stop and think; the millennials don’t want the baggage of the holidays, but they crave the pomp and trad. The elders don’t want the responsibility and labor, but they adore the festivity and customs.
My parents may kill me, but they haven’t yet. Nor will your rellies. Regardless of your rituals, why not reinvent the holiday season every year? There are as many ways to spend these days as people to spend them. Somewhere old, somewhere new. Something borrowed, something blue.
The holiday season may seem less spiritual every year. And yet, the churches keep filling and singing. The synagogues keep lighting candles and feasting. Black Friday keeps growing—and soon may be a whole month (or two). Why not? It’s the dark daze, and we need ways. To gather, observe, and carry on.
55 gifts (per person)
There’s a time for all the above, and endless ways to celebrate, commiserate, and meditate. Did I ever tell you about the ONLY time I saw my elderly Grandpa have a drink? (And we were close.) On a Christmas Eve. In a dive bar. No, a real dive bar. Blackberry brandy somebody insisted he sip. He resisted, then took a taste. And his words were, “Hey, that’s pretty good!”
Merry Christmas. Happy holidays. Hey, that’s pretty good!
1 kid, 5 islands, 69 days
Here's my son’s blog from an '08/09 BreakAway in the Caribbean.
1 planet, countless cultures, 120 days
In 00/01, when the internet was a pup, I went RTW and posted these words and pics en route.
