Reason for the Season

I meant to write in my book—really, I did. But the funniest things popped up instead: cooking masaman curry and Mexican rice, Facetiming Paula, tackling progress notes, watching Klaus, and playing chess.

Oh, and let’s not forget the ever-creeping stress of the holiday season. With just 17 days until Christmas, my biggest worry isn’t gift ideas but the tangled web of who to buy for, how much to spend, and who might buy for me. That inevitable guilt creeps in—the kind that comes when someone surprises you with a gift, and you have nothing to hand back but an awkward smile.

This season is testing my goal to lower the expectations I pile onto myself. I need to say no to taking on more.

I’m seated at the dining room table, across from Dave. Spread out in front of him is Spirit Island, a decision-heavy game with piles of cards, tokens, and layered boards. I stop him mid-thought, and he double-taps the earbud in his left ear, pausing his music.

“I’m worried,” I say, voicing my fear of buying things just to buy them. I talk about my concern about losing myself in the season’s chaos, and my voice trembles unexpectedly. The shaky waver surprises me almost as much as the weight of my own words.

Where did that come from?

Maybe it’s the invisible sinkhole beneath this holiday—the feeling that no matter what I do, I’ll never measure up to my own expectations. Maybe it’s the fear that I’m destined to fall short, that I’m trapped in a cycle of trying, failing, and trying again.

Is that the real holiday spirit? The nagging worry that I’ll disappoint myself most of all?

My worth isn’t tied to how much I give or do for others. And even if others are disappointed by what they do or don’t get, that will be okay too. What matters is showing up with an open heart, without the pressure of perfection. This holiday, I choose peace and authenticity over expectations.

Love, Jaclynn