Are you allowed to progress slower?
The scent of pine in the living room, freshly baked gingerbread every week, and that uncanny silence after heavy snowfalls, though those are sadly becoming increasingly rare. I love how winter in December has its own distinct atmosphere. There’s always a moment in each season when you can tell exactly which one you’re in. It’s the middles of December as I’m writing this, so we’re almost at peak preparation time, and I can feel we’re approaching the most wonderful time of the year. Two-ish synchronized weeks when most of the world slows down from its usual rhythm. Still, I genuinely dread the Christmas season for one reason: the rush.
Blindly into the fog
I keep wondering how some drivers do it. You know the ones who keep on cruising at death-defying speed in heavy rain, fog or snowfall. How do they see what’s ahead of them when I can barely see 100 meters ahead? Where’s that bravery come from and what am I missing? There’s no time to dwell on these thoughts because all my attention is on driving, this is but a passing thought but somehow now I remembered when I realized how similar it felt how Christmas usually approaches.
It all starts toward the end of a typically busy autumn. Summer feels slow, nothing moves, everyone’s on holiday at different times, so decisions that need two or more people can take weeks. Then autumn hits, and suddenly everyone slams the gas to catch up before year’s end. People push as hard as they can. By December, reality becomes apparent: the whole year has flown by, and there’s still so much left undone. The usual variables? Unallocated budgets, unmet resolutions, and gifts still not bought.
We are all in the same boat.
I keep trying to figure out what’s happening around this time of year. Shutting the door for a whole month to hide from the swarming crowds outside—people in a full-on frenzy—doesn’t feel like a real solution.
I’m not so different, you see. I’m caught up in the same whirlwind. I keep wondering why, especially when I deliberately try to keep my calendar airy in the last months so there’s room for the unexpected.
Pedal to the metal
I grew up in a family where Christmas needed to be aesthetically pleasing. Everything was about appearances. Traditions were sacred: the elaborate menu, the guest list, and of course, the timing. We had our own little crazy dance around this time, and I imagine most families do too. I always felt we’d reached the summit when the tension became almost tangible, as time slipped away minute by minute. Naturally, we were running late in a race no one really wanted to join.
When I was younger, my job was to decorate the tree. It made sense as I was the tallest in the family, so I could reach every branch without a ladder and even place the tree-topper. Logical, right? Totally. The only problem was that, despite years of practice, I never quite got it right, placing ornaments and Christmas lights. It was a delicate balance and somehow it kept slipping through my fingers.
Every time someone rushed through the room, they’d tell me how off it looked somehow. I was doing my best to bring the picture in my head to life - to give the family an aesthetically perfect tree - but no. Apparently, ornaments had to follow some mysterious ratio, a secret no one could explain. Whenever I started, I’d ask how it should look. The answer? “You know, like last year!” Year after year, my frustration grew. How could I fail at something so simple? Eventually, I checked out. I said, “I’ll put on the star or whatever, but that’s it.” After that, I volunteered for garden duty, cooking our traditional soup in a cauldron instead.
You can change things up.
Outside suited me better as it was vastly different. No overplayed glittery Christmas songs, no sense of frustration and no shiny ornaments. Instead, the air was freezing, your breath visible as you talked for hours beside a smoky wood fire, leaving everyone with that unmistakable scent clinging to their clothes. It was slower. You can’t rush fire. I was instantly hooked on how calm it felt compared to the madness inside.
I felt like I’d finally found my place. Even though it was a less comfortable setting, I could actually contribute. I was useful in an environment that seemed unpleasant, and I wasn’t making mistakes in the one everyone preferred. Plus, I got to practice one of the most important cornerstones of family life: cooking and serving the people I love.
Feathering the brake
So what’s the solution? Who’s figured this out? Can’t we just relax and be happy?
Well, we’re adults now, responsible for our choices and how we feel about them. Even more so if you’re a parent, because you’re the role model for how things can be done differently. That’s something that helped me tremendously: becoming a parent. Realizing it’s no longer just about me, but about a little one who’s still learning what all this means, and I’m the one teaching them how to do it right. The irony? I’m still learning and re-learning myself as we walk this road together.
This is how I shifted my perspective: to remember that there’s a responsibility in serving, and that I actually enjoy parts of it. Now I feel capable of creating our own rituals, making them meaningful, and even enjoying the process as it unfolds.
It’s not easy, though. I wouldn’t say I’m looking forward to it, but in recent years I’ve at least become curious. Curious about what I can do to make it better this time, and what moments I’ll truly enjoy with my family. One thing I keep reminding myself: I don’t have to rush. And believe me, I know how hard it is to embrace that mindset.
Allow yourself to pause.
Accept that some things might get delayed. That not everything will be perfect. And that’s completely okay. You don’t have to figure everything out at once and solve it all on the spot. You’re allowed to let things go and just be. Enjoy the fact that it’s finally cold outside. I, for one, was looking forward to winter so I could feel that sharp wind again. But right now, I’m rushing, and I completely forgot. So this is my reminder too: step outside and be thankful it’s here, the very thing I was waiting for all summer.
I’ll be out by my smoker, keeping a fire going at least twice this December. I hope you find your own version of that too.
It’s perfectly okay to ask for support. You don’t have to figure everything out on your own. While I believe everyone is their own best expert, I’m also a big believer in asking for help to create change together. It’s comforting to have someone by our side as we go through transitions. If you’re feeling motivated to expand your comfort zone and curious about how I can support you on your journey, let’s talk.
