The Both/And of the Holidays: Holding Both the Joy and the Tender
For me, the holiday season seems to start in October. The colors change on the trees, the temperatures cool down. Conversations about holiday plans start to pop up more frequently. Inside, I begin to feel the excitement - and the stress - of the holiday season as soon as I see the first Halloween decoration in my neighborhood.
The holidays are such a mixed bag, aren’t they? On one hand, they are so much fun - traditions, lights, food & smells, music… the small moments that turn into big memories. There’s something about this season that can bring out a kind of warmth and excitement that feels good to come back to year after year. I, personally, am someone who appreciates and looks forward to annual traditions as a way to maintain connections with people I care about.
But it can come with stress and effort. Those are the parts we don’t always talk about as much. The stress of planning, the constant busy-ness of holidays, the “too much to do and not enough time” feeling. The ache of missing someone we’ve lost, or realizing certain relationships or traditions just aren’t the same anymore because life changes things. Sometimes, the very things that make the holidays meaningful can also stir up sadness, loneliness, or old hurts.
It’s human to feel both — the joy and the pain. The warmth and the weariness. The holidays tend to bring it all to the surface.
This year, I’m reminding myself (and maybe you, too) that we don’t have to choose one or the other. We can let the good moments in - the laughter, the connection, the cozy moments — and still make room for what feels hard. For me, that looks like grieving the loss of my two very special aunts who passed away this year, while also celebrating the new life of my niece’s baby. It means holding gratitude and grief at the same time — as I travel back to the East Coast to be with extended family and then return home to Colorado to spend time with my own. Life, and the holidays especially, have a way of stretching our hearts to hold so much all at once.
Maybe that looks like giving yourself permission to slow down. Maybe it’s letting go of one or two of those “shoulds.” Maybe it’s holding your memories close, or starting a new tradition that fits who you are now.
However this season shows up for you — whether it’s bright, complicated, or somewhere in between — I hope you can be gentle with yourself. The holidays can hold both heartbreak and hope, and somehow, that mix is what makes them deeply human and deeply meaningful.