Permission not to be merry (and to avoid misery)
I always struggle at this time of year with the influx of “cheerleading,” and “buy now!” newsletters that pile up in my inbox. Each year at this time we’re encouraged to get fit, find our true purpose, lose ten pounds and make more money. I think these things can be helpful and good, and yet, and yet…
The holiday season can be extraordinarily stressful for many reasons. All of the commercials featuring loving families can trigger a lot of grief for those who’ve lost family members, or who don’t enjoy the support of loved ones. The proliferation of “happy” posts on social media can be salt in the wounds of those who are grieving, or who can’t or don’t have a family. Many among us have lost jobs or find ourselves under financial stress. Every year at this time our personal life expectations tend to drive head-on into our cultural (or familial) expectations, and for many it’s painful. As Dickens said, it’s the time of year “when want is most keenly felt.” It’s also likely to be the time when Aunt Doris asks why you’re not married yet, or why you never finished that degree.
As someone who has a yoga business that is nicknamed JoY I find it necessary to explain that my goal in life is more about equanimity than happiness. I did a lot of research on happiness when I was doing my Masters degree, and came to the conclusion that chasing happiness is a formula for more pain. Not that happiness is bad. We all want it, and love it—but it’s one of those things that slips through our fingers the harder we try to grasp it. Happiness comes, but not in the ways we think it does. (For a great read on this check out Daniel Gilbert’s Stumbling on Happiness).
Through the years I’ve witnessed a lot of pain and suffering, and I’ve devoted my life to trying to alleviate as much of it as possible. But the thing is…it’s not possible. And telling people who are suffering to suck it up, or smile and pretend, is pretty cruel. It’s telling them that “I find it difficult to be around your pain, so either suppress it or don’t bother coming to my party.” In a year where so many are struggling with anxiety, depression and feelings of hopelessness, the more compassionate thing to do would be to just listen. As Fred Rogers said, “Go ahead and cry, I am here to be with you.” And this is hard. It takes courage, and a willingness to swim against the stream of our own existential anxiety, our own fears and uncertainty.
There are a few things that I find helpful, for both those in the grips of seasonal sadness and those who bear witness to it. One is to just allow ourselves to feel the feels: to go into the body and let whatever is showing up rest in the light of our awareness. At the same time, by trying to keep our attention on what is happening from moment to moment, we make an effort to stop the story-telling that adds to our pain. Because it is true that the way we think can make things feel better or worse. Our emotions are the sum of our bodily sensations plus the stories we tell about them.
Something else we could all afford to do more of is to pick up the phone and call someone. Or use FaceTime or Zoom or whatever floats your boat. But to actually spend one on one time in conversation, is to share one of the most precious gifts we have: our time. The cost of this is negligible, but to someone who is hurting, it’s priceless.
Third, I try to let go of my expectations and stories about other people’s personalities. It’s a bad habit of mine to diagnose and try to “fix.” To think that Bill or Jane just needs to—face reality, get a new job, change their partner—you get the picture. But in playing this game I’m not actually seeing the person in this moment. All I’m seeing is a projection of myself, and research has proven that the more self-obsessed we are, the unhappier we are. And the person you’re with can feel that you’re not really seeing them, or hearing them. When we move into the role of advice-giver or relationship expert we’ve generally moved out of intimacy and presence.
Frequently, I’m humbled by the fact that while I think and write about these things all the time, there are amazing people out in the community doing wonderful and truly helpful things like volunteering at food banks, fundraising for mental health, or shoveling walkways for neighbors who are at high risk for falling. Those are the people we should be paying more attention to. They’re the ones who bring cheer to others even when times are tough. They don’t make a big deal of it, they just do it.
And finally, I think it helps to know that you don’t have to be happy to find moments of joy. Even when we feel mired in darkness there are opportunities to laugh, a favorite song on the radio, or a cartoon funny enough to be worth snipping out of the paper. There are still tiny, beautiful things, even in the middle of blackness. These fleeting moments of joy are like stars. If it never got dark we’d never know they were there.
Glad to know that you’re there,
With love,
Elaine
