Oops. Got caught up in some journaling, so I’m late on this one.
Today Holidailies says: Share your best advice for surviving the holiday season.
I’ve answered this last year, on December 3. My answer was to protect your peace, namely by saying no to things and people who disrupt it. You don’t have to do all of the things and you don’t have to see all of the people.
This year, I’m suggesting saying yes, but to the small joys that can still be found in an ever-demoralizing world. There’s a lot going on around the world, as there always is, with war, natural disasters, economic instability, and social upheaval. If you’re in the United States, 2025 has been a whammy of political insanity. For all intents and purposes, the country is collapsing under a regime led by a megalomaniac who has one foot in the grave and wants to ruin as much on his way out as he can. Wherever you turn, there’s bad news.
And yet, wherever you turn, there lies the opportunity for a small joy.
Fill a bird-feeder and watch our feathered friends flit around. Look at how the sun shines on their feathers, listen to their little chirps and songs.
Make a giant mug of hot chocolate. Dump in some marshmallows and top it off with whipped cream. Sit under a quilt, take a sip, and let the whipped cream dot the tip of your nose.
Listen to your favorite music. Play the same song over and over again as many times as you want. This song has 1,046,490,278 plays on Spotify. I think I’m responsible for those last 278 of them. The music sounds like we’re being flung out into some kind of giant cosmic nightclub. I love it.
Call a friend you haven’t spoken to in a long time. Let the friendship pick up like it was just yesterday. Listen to how happy they are to hear from you. You’ll hear it in their voice.
Sleep late. Like, really late. Past noon. Get up, have lunch. Then read a good book. If you need a nap, take a nap.
Put on something comfortable and stretch. Feel how everything extends and loosens up.
Hold the door open for someone else, just to do it.
Make a donation to your favorite charity.
Light your favorite candle.
Watch your favorite comedy. Or spooky movie. Or musical. Or drama.
Help your kids build a snowman.
Draw something fun on the sidewalk with sidewalk chalk.
Play solitaire with real cards. Or have a game night with friends.
Stroll through a museum.
Get on the floor and romp around with your dog. Let your cat judge you both.
Take a hot bath with a million tea lights around you like they do in the movies.
Look up at the stars.
Scroll through your phone at pictures of the good times.
Go down a YouTube rabbithole of old commercials. Send the links to friends your age. Every time I see a montage of commercials from the 70s and 80s, it’s like I’m a kid again. “I had that! And that! Remember that?”
Buy something small on sale that you never tried before. I’ve discovered vanilla cream seltzer for 89 cents for a 33-ounce bottle, and the other day I managed to snag five of them for a dollar.
Small joys like that are sustainable. They’re what will get us all through both the season and whatever earthly turmoil surrounds us. Post ’em if you’ve got ’em. I’m always looking for fresh ideas.
