Normally, I’m your festive holiday friend. Always looking to plan a get together, gleefully picking out the perfect gift for a friend, blasting Vince Guaraldi Trio on repeat while donning a cable knit that probably should have been burned in 1989.
But right now, things feel different.
In the past, the holidays have been a light in otherwise often dark times. It’s no secret the world around us isn’t perfect, and hasn’t been for quite some time. It is, in fact, horrifically flawed.
“At least we’ve got the holidays to bring some cheer.”
If for nothing but a brief respite of escapism, the holidays have indeed been an excuse to put on a cute outfit, bake some cookies, and power through. However, this year, I can’t seem to get myself to even enter this realm.
If you’re not feeling the festive spirit this year, I’m here to tell you: It’s OK. And I’m right there with you.
Whether it’s getting the notification that your healthcare premium is tripling, feeling helpless as ICE unjustly and unlawfully tears families apart around our state and country, not being able to afford presents for loved ones because putting food on the table is more important, or one of the many other real, exhausting, and devastating realities so many of us are currently confronted with … there’s a lot happening. And none of it, unless you’re a certified sadist, is good.
And when a time that’s meant for focusing on making memories, upholding family traditions, and spending time with loved ones feels overrun with capitalistic overtones of “profit over people,” I can’t help but feel disillusioned.
It's heavy.
I don’t want to buy whatever cheap (and probably manufactured under less than stellar working conditions) product an influencer is hocking within my social media algorithm. I don’t want a cabinet full of reusable cups (defeating the purpose of “reusable”) in the name of overconsumption. I don’t want to support large corporations who don’t take care of their employees and funnel funds into political candidates who are actively trying to strip the rights of myself and my neighbors. I don’t want to see my state’s fresh water sources depleted to power overwhelmingly unwanted data centers.
I want to know my money is helping pay the bills of a small business when purchasing a new or secondhand gift. I want our neighbors to feel safe and protected in their own communities. I want to see the end of social posts from people pleading for help because they can’t pay their rent, afford groceries, or fix the one vehicle they have to take them to work. I want quality healthcare in my own country instead of having to travel abroad to get it more affordably. I want the Indigenous peoples of this country to be given the visibility, respect, and land back they deserve. I want my Syrian and Lebanese roots to not be shrouded in post-9/11 stereotypes, still. I want the beautiful natural environment of our state to remain pristine and protected.
I, like many of us, want a lot of things. None of them in this moment, however, happen to fall on the same spectrum as a designer bag.
I can only encourage you—now and in the new year—to not let apathy take hold. Seek out real, rooted-in-fact knowledge in place of doom scrolling. Thoughtfully ponder how you can show up in situations that call for your voice to be heard—and remember when it’s best to simply listen to other people’s experiences and perspectives.
There’s so much collective power in community. When things feel too broad to narrow down or too insurmountable to make a difference, start in your own backyard. Channel your concern into connecting with your community in ways that give back but also fill your cup. Have discussions with your neighbors—what are their needs? How can you use the skills and resources you have to fill a gap that might exist somewhere for someone? Seek out volunteer opportunities with local organizations or businesses whose values and actions align with your own.
Take a moment to be still this holiday season, however that looks for you, but don’t let it paralyze you into inaction.
Written by Sarah Suydam, Managing Editor for West Michigan Woman.
Photo courtesy of Sarah Suydam.
