Avoiding the Grinch: Holding Hope Through the Holidays

Naazh
27 minutes ago
6 min read

Let’s just say it out loud: the holidays are a lot.

There are expectations—spoken, unspoken, and aggressively marketed. There is the hustle and bustle, lists upon lists, and a strange sense that if you don’t do all the things, you’re somehow “doing Christmas wrong.” The shopping, the cooking, the decorating, the scheduling, the concerts, the gatherings, the matching pajamas… it all adds up.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, we forget what the meaning is—or we don’t even stop long enough to ask whether meaning is present anymore.

And in America, there is no opting out.

You cannot quietly contemplate the season without being confronted by it. Christmas begins at Walmart sometime in July, right around the back-to-school supplies and pool noodles. By October, you’re already behind. By December, it’s fully in your face whether you’re ready or not.

The Magic

For some, the holidays are filled with connection and ritual. For others, they’re heavy with loss, loneliness, or pressure. For most of us, it’s a complicated mix—joy sitting next to grief, gratitude tangled up with exhaustion.

For me, the meaning of Christmas—and the way I hold it—has changed many times.

I remember Christmastime when I was a little girl—the ride home from Gramma and Grandpa’s, watching the sky for a glimpse of Rudolph’s red nose, listening for the faint jingle of sleigh bells as I fell asleep. I knew I had seen the nose and heard the bells as surely as I had seen my own reflection in the mirror while brushing my teeth that night.

I didn’t question why the stories of Santa’s origin were different. I didn’t question how he fit down the chimney. I just believed.

I was on my best behavior.

Everything sparkled.

Everything was magic.

The Changes

Life evolves and so do we. One big adjustment for my family was the way that things change after "Gramma" died. The loss of the matriarch can be devastating and leave a hole that just cannot be filled with anything else. It will never be able to be replicated, but we long for it and a part of us will wait for it just the same. There are family members that I have not seen since my grandparents' funerals, people that I looked forward to seeing every year. We try to get together in different ways, in different places. It's not the same.

I know this not only from my own experience, but from years of listening to the stories of clients, friends and other families—the longing for the old days, the ache for the magic and tradition of “Gramma’s at Christmas.”

The house.

The food.

The way everyone and everything came together, just as it is supposed to be.

Then suddenly, in the blink of an eye, I was married with young children, and the magic shifted. It lived in providing the experience—making sure my children felt that same wonder, that same sense of safety and belief. We built traditions that mattered.

It started on Thanksgiving, when the Christmas tree was harvested from our land after everyone had snoozed off the effects of turkey dinner.

Christmas Eve with my mom and sisters, the familiarity of matriarchal rule over the holiday festivities.

Walking through the "Bentleyville Tour of Lights" late in the evening, after Santa had already left and the crowds were gone.

Christmas morning gift opening starting well before the sunrise.

A menu of frozen pizza and appetizers.

Playing and singing Christmas music on the piano.

Candy grazing all day.

Staying in our pajamas.

Just enjoying each other.

Then came my first Christmas after the divorce—without my children for the first time.

It was one of the hardest days of my life.

And I’ll be honest—I spent the latter part of it at a bar, using a coping skill that probably wasn’t all that helpful in hindsight. Survival sometimes looks messy before it looks wise.

The Inevitability of Change, or "Hello, Radical Acceptance!"

Every year since, Christmas has been just a little different.. Yes, just when I think I’ve adjusted to this version of Christmas, it shifts again.

Because children grow. And we grow. And relationships change. Ane people move. And people die.

I'm witnessing a new and exciting trend in my family...coupling up! Suddenly, the Christmas "special family friend" guest list is growing. To put it bluntly, when you raise four sons who are not particularly crafty (gender stereotype that fits these guys, sorry) the arrival of girlfriends makes Christmas crafting exponentially more fun. Suddenly there are ideas. Opinions. Actual enthusiasm for glue, scissors, and aesthetic cohesion. Turns out girlfriends are a Christmas miracle all on their own—and I suspect new traditions are quietly forming right before my eyes.

This year also marks something big: the official passing on of the family lefse-making tradition. The rolling pins are coming out. The griddles are warming up. Generations of flour-dusted wisdom are being handed down. There’s something sacred about that—proof that traditions don’t disappear; they travel. They adapt. They land in new hands.

Looking for the Blessing

The Creator, in all of this reshuffling and re-rooting, blessed me with this sweet little girl who has a vivid imagination and an open heart for magic. I get to watch Christmas through her eyes. She ballet dances across the living room while I play Christmas tunes on the piano, convinced the music itself is alive. Each morning she searches the house for “Stephanie,” the Elf on the Shelf my older kids once hunted for with the same certainty and delight.

And there it is again—that magic.

Not recreated.

Not forced.

Just alive.

Yes, each year Christmas has been just a little different.

This year I’ve found myself more often sitting quietly, pondering:

The traditions we’ve held onto.

The ones that no longer fit.

The ones I’m no longer a part of.

Here is where I can tank. Spiral. Rabbit-hole my way into a dark place that always welcomes me with open—though very poisonous—arms. So I HAVE to look for the blessing.

My Mantra: The holidays don’t have to look like they used to in order to still be meaningful.

Hope and Faith, Gratitude and Kindness

So how will we avoid the Grinch this year?

Not through forced cheer or pretending everything is fine—but through hope and faith, practiced intentionally through gratitude and kindness.

Gratitude as an action.

A mindset shift.

A diligent reframing.

A daily quest for the beautiful and often overlooked.

And kindness—every single day. Spreading the joy, love, and peace that we ourselves crave.

And yes… a vacation from social media is highly recommended! Comparison culture is deadly. And although I know—logically—that all is not what it appears online, my heart and my longing for connection sometimes tell me otherwise. So this year, I’m stepping back, not stopping, but limiting the time I spend there. Because nothing pulls you out of your own meaning faster than scrolling curated joy while standing in line at Target… in December… remembering they started this whole thing in July.

Put it into Action - De-Grinch Yourself

This is my invitation—to myself and to you.

Ask yourself the questions I keep returning to this season:

Who else is lonely?

And how can I help?

Maybe it’s nursing home residents who would love a random visit and a chance to share a holiday memory. Maybe it’s hospital patients who haven’t seen twinkling lights in days. Maybe it’s someone in line at the grocery store, carrying far more than what’s in their cart.

Maybe it’s as simple as a warm smile.

A genuine compliment.

A moment of presence.

Let’s support each other.

Let’s stay connected.

Let’s choose mental wellness—even when it’s work.

I'm going to go take my little lady for a holiday manicure and then were going to make Christmas cutout cookies.

I'm going to watch for beauty and magic. And awe.

Go, now, and eat some lefse.

Drink some eggnog.

Think of one thing you’re grateful for.

Make someone smile.

Sending good HOLIDAY vibes,

Naazh ✨

Reflection Prompts: Holding Hope Through the Holidays

Take a breath. You don’t need to answer all of these. Let the ones that tug at you come forward.

🌲 Reflecting on Change

How have the holidays changed for you over the years?
Which traditions still feel nourishing—and which ones feel heavy or outdated?
What have you lost that you still miss this time of year?

🌲 Honoring What Still Lives

Where do you notice magic showing up now, even if it looks different than it used to?
What small moments have surprised you with joy or warmth this season?
Whose presence—past or present—do you carry with you during the holidays?

🌲 Naming the Hard Parts

When do you notice yourself starting to spiral or “tank” this season?
What thoughts, places, or situations tend to pull you toward comparison or resentment?
What coping strategies have helped—and which ones no longer serve you?

🌲 Gratitude as Practice

What is one ordinary thing you’re grateful for today?
How does your body feel when you slow down enough to notice it?
Where can you intentionally look for beauty this week?

🌲 Kindness as Action

Who might be feeling lonely around you right now?
What is one small act of kindness you could offer—without overextending yourself?
How can you show kindness to yourself during this season?

🌲 Reclaiming Meaning

What does the holiday season mean to you now?
If you let go of expectations, what would you keep?
What would it look like to honor this season in a way that fits who you are today?