let go of perfect and enjoy the season.

Several bloggers who I follow have posted recently about the importance of taking care of yourself, both mentally and physically, this holiday season:  Rosie Molinary posted about being ready to deal with insensitive comments made my family members, Tara Whitney posted about preparing for a less stressful and less wasteful season, and Megan from The Fresh Exchange posted about committing to be in the moment.

I think that the older we get, the more mixed our feelings about the holiday season can become.  As an adult, it can be difficult to get excited about watching It's a Wonderful Life for the 25th, or 30th, or 40th time.  On top of that, the older we get, the more likely we are to suffer loss around the holidays.  As longtime blog readers know, my father passed away on Christmas Day during my fourth year of college.  We were going through the motions of Christmas last year as it was, and the next year finding joy in the Christmas season felt like a battle.  It meant holding my mother and Mr. Q and my best friend close to me and keeping a distance from the trappings of Christmas that were too close to my father's memory.

It's taken six years to feel excited about the coming Christmas season instead of feeling dread and worry that some unpredictable something- "I'll Be Home for Christmas" at the school band concert, for example- would send me into a downward spiral.

Even for those who don't have any specific stressor associated with the holidays, they're a stressful time!  We spend our precious moments rushing to stores to find the perfect decorations for our home, the perfect cards to send, the perfect gifts to give.

I think finding joy is about letting go of perfect.

As I decorate my home for Christmas, I remind myself that I'm not decorating for the sake of pretty pictures on this blog, but for Mr. Q and I to feel the Christmas spirit, and so the best-loved ornaments from our childhood go right on the tree alongside the color-coordinated new ones.

As I participate in the holiday activities at the school where I teach, I remind myself that I am there to support my students.  But I still stand close to the door so they won't see my cry if it happens, because the reality that losing a parent at Christmas could happen is not a reality I need to thrust upon children.  I play Christmas music in the classroom and we read Christmas poems and have a cookie party because they want to have a cookie party and for the first time, I never feel that catch in my heart.  I just feel loved and feel like giving love.

As I write my Christmas cards, I stop trying to come up with the perfectly composed, poetic holiday message, stop reminding myself that people know I'm a writer and expect good writing, and instead focus on what words will make the receiver smile.

As I shop for gifts, I remind myself that it's okay that I don't have a set list, and I'm not sure what to get each person on my list.  I start thinking of ways I can give the people I love my time, my encouragement, and my gratitude.  I buy a few silly Christmas t-shirts for myself while I'm out.  I feel festive.  I don't feel perfect, but I sure do feel joyful.