The Art of New Traditions?
Christmas uniquely magnifies our emotions—its shimmering lights often cast shadows on memories and relationships we hold close. For me, this past holiday season was a profoundly introspective one—a tapestry of love and loss woven thickly with the ache of absence.
The faces around my dinner table were a sharp contrast to my youth’s bountiful gatherings. many of us associate with the season. My wife Sharon and I shared Christmas with my sister Pam, her friend Robert, and our 96-year-old aunt Susie, whose dementia has slowly unraveled her sense of time and self. Of the friends and extended family who once colored our holiday memories, many have either forgotten or disowned us, moved out of reach, or passed away. Spaces around the table and within our hearts, once filled with laughter and connection, now often echo silently. Our closest friend, Akiko, whose loving presence made her part of our family, left this world unexpectedly in April—a void that only deepened the quiet.
This year, I wrestled with sadness and a hollow nostalgia for the people and moments that used to warm the season. Christmas, in its glow and grandeur, has a way of prodding at those tender parts of us. But amidst the gloom, something began to crystallize in my heart—the realization that the true essence of the holiday isn’t defined by the number of voices raised in harmony but by the love we pour into the spaces we do share.
More than gifts, carols, and feasts, Christmas is about presence—an intentional, heartfelt being. It is a call to extend love, care, and warmth not just to those surrounding us but to the parts of ourselves grieving, yearning, and still healing. Sitting at the table, dominated by my aging aunt’s needs, I realized that love is not always effortless or grand. Sometimes, it is in the ordinary moments-repeating stories with a patient smile, acknowledging her cat Sassy, that we have cared for the thirty months since Susie entered into a memory care facility, or simply watching as she loses contact with any ongoing conversation and begins rattling on about the sights seen in her childlike state.
All of this became a living lesson to me. The spirit that truly endures in this season isn’t wrapped in ribbons. It quietly thrives in tending to what is rather than mourning what is not.
Traditions often feel like anchors in the vast ocean of time—they provide comfort and continuity amidst life’s unpredictability. But what happens when those anchors no longer hold? When the people who shaped those traditions are no longer there to carry them forward? The thoughts of grandparents, beloved uncles, and parents, all long since passed away, come to mind.
Rather than clinging desperately to traditions that resurface, aching reminders of what was, we can choose to forge new ones. This Christmas, Sharon and I decided to blend cherished rituals with fresh practices. We brought the spirit of Akiko into our lives by placing a dinner setting at the table for her—a gesture of remembrance that felt deeply comforting. Pam, Sharon, Robert, and I contributed to a potluck where we each brought our favorite food, often tied to happy memories. Aunt Susie brought her fragmented self, and painted a bittersweet charm over the day.
We saw her with all the love we could muster.
Crafting new rituals doesn’t erase old memories; instead, it builds a bridge to them, allowing us to move forward without severing or distorting what came before.
It’s easy to fall into the “when-it-was” trap—living in the sepia tones of what Christmases used to be. But the only beating heart of joy resides in the now. The creases in Aunt Susie’s hands as we held them, the efforts Sharon and Pam made to ensure there was still laughter despite the weight of absence, and even the quiet comfort of Sharon sitting beside me as we watched TV after dinner ended—all these moments whispered to me, “This is your Christmas. It’s imperfect, but it is yours.”
Experts in psychology remind us that experiencing gratitude in the present moment, even during challenges, can actively rewire our brains for resilience and happiness. Simple thought exercises, like noticing three things that brought you joy during the day, can shift the focus from absence to abundance. Over time, this practice allows us to cherish what remains while building openness to what is yet to come.
The cultural history of holiday traditions reveals resilience and adaptability. For centuries, celebrations have shifted in form, reflecting the transformations of society, religion, and community. What started as pagan winter solstice rituals transformed into structured gatherings under various faiths, illustrating our innate capacity to infuse new meaning into familiar frameworks.
If traditions can adapt, so can we. Loss, disconnection, or change need not diminish the holidays to a shadow of what they once were. Rather than seeing these challenges as barriers, consider them catalysts for reinvention. Each year is a canvas awaiting the colors you choose to paint it with—whether it’s sharing a meal with neighbors, creating memories with someone you may not have expected to be part of your season, or sitting alone with peace as your most loyal guest.
To anyone navigating a season of absence or quiet this year, my message is this: allow yourself the grace to sit with your grief, but don’t stop there. Lean into the love you still have to give, however small the act may seem. Create new traditions that reflect the person you are today, not the one tethered to the past. And above all, find joy, however fleeting, in the moments you still hold.
The holidays aren’t about perfect decorations, full tables, or unbroken traditions. They are a reflection of how we carry love into the world, even when the circumstances feel heavy or unexpected. That love, as I’ve learned, is enough to illuminate even the quietest of Christmases.
This is your season.
Claim it.
Shape it.
May you find peace while doing so.
Honor Your Feelings as Gateways to Authenticity
It starts with a whisper—an ache of sadness, a flicker of anger, or even an overwhelming rush of loneliness. Too often, we dismiss these moments, brushing them aside as inconvenient or inappropriate.
“Stay strong.”
“Why are you so emotional?”
“You’re overreacting.”
These refrains echo in our cultural psyche, discouraging us from facing what is raw, honest, and human within ourselves.
Yet, I’ve come to believe we are doing ourselves a profound disservice by silencing our emotions. Each feeling that arises in us has a message to deliver and a lesson to teach. What if we embraced them as essential expressions of our humanity instead of being ashamed of our anger or grief? What if we found not weakness but incredible authenticity in these most vulnerable moments?
Think back to your most vivid memories—the defining moments of your life. Chances are, they are intertwined with powerful emotions. The pride of a hard-earned triumph, the heartbreak of loss, the relief of reconciliation—these feelings give texture to our experiences, marking them as significant.
All feelings, even the inconvenient or painful ones, arise for a reason. Anger often signals a boundary crossed. Guilt reminds us to align with our values. Joy reveals what sets our soul alight, and sorrow carves the space within us to hold more profound compassion. We sever the connection to our inner wisdom when we diminish or ignore these emotions.
Consider the findings of psychologist Dr. Susan David, who champions “emotional agility.” Her research shows that acknowledging emotions—not suppressing them—leads to greater resilience and mental well-being. By allowing ourselves to sit with our feelings, no matter how uncomfortable, we can uncover the deeper truths they hold.
Imagine emotions as a compass, pointing us toward what matters most. They are the unspoken language of the soul, directing us to heal old wounds, honor unmet needs, and align with our true selves.
When we suppress our emotions, we dilute our ability to live authentically. We become performers, showing the world only the polished, curated parts of ourselves while hiding the messy, complex realities within. But these moments of rawness—when our mask slips and we’re undeniably, unapologetically real—are where genuine connection and growth begin.
Society, however, has conditioned us to believe that certain feelings are “weak” or “wrong.” How often have we heard phrases like “man up,” “don’t cry,” or “stop being so sensitive”? This cultural disdain for vulnerability creates a dangerous dynamic.
Research shows that repressing emotions can increase stress levels, strain mental health, and even lead to physical health issues. Dr. Brene Brown, a leading researcher on vulnerability and shame, has consistently found that suppressing emotions leads to isolation, whereas embracing them fosters belonging and empathy. Yet, the stigma persists.
This suppression is especially prevalent in professional environments, where stoicism is seen as the hallmark of competence. For example, women navigating male-dominated workplaces often feel pressured to hide qualities like empathy or sensitivity to avoid being labeled “emotional.” Men, on the other hand, are usually socialized to internalize their feelings entirely, leading to a pattern of silence that can manifest in burnout or even depression.
But emotions don’t disappear when ignored—they find other ways to surface, often as irritability, anxiety, or numbness. What’s at stake isn’t just workplace performance but the full spectrum of our human potential.
The question, then, isn’t whether we should feel our emotions but how we can honor them in ways that serve us. Here are a few practices to consider if you want to integrate emotional authenticity into your life:
- Mindful Awareness
Pause when you feel an emotion rising. Instead of judging it, observe it. Where do you think it is in your body? What thoughts accompany it? This practice helps you create space to process the emotion without being overwhelmed.
- Journaling
Writing down your thoughts is a powerful way to explore the root causes of your feelings. Journaling creates a safe space for self-reflection, helping you uncover patterns and gain clarity.
- Express Through Movement
Sometimes, words aren’t enough. Whether it’s taking a walk, dancing, or releasing energy in a high-impact workout, movement can serve as an outlet for emotional expression.
- Seek Support
You don’t have to process emotions alone. Share your thoughts with a trusted friend, therapist, or support group. Vulnerability invites connection, reminding you that you’re never truly alone in your feelings.
- Reframe the Narrative
Challenge the belief that emotions are obstacles. Instead, view them as allies guiding you toward emotional growth and self-awareness.
To feel is to be alive. Human emotions, in all their complexity, are not flaws to be hidden but mirrors reflecting the truths of our experiences.
I urge you to listen to the whispers within—your anger, your joy, your guilt, your grief. They are not contradictions to overcome but facets of your being calling for acknowledgment. Only by honoring these emotions can you access the depths of your authenticity, grow through your struggles, and connect more deeply with the world around you.
The invitation is simple yet profound: sit with your sorrow, hold space for your joy, and stand unashamed in all that you feel. It is there—in the honesty of our shared humanity—that truth and love reside.
What emotions have you been hiding from?
What might change if you embraced them fully?
Share your thoughts below—I’d love to hear your reflections and continue this conversation.
Together, we can reclaim the beauty of being wholeheartedly human.
From Jim Palmer:
A word to the walking wounded…
to those still carrying a little heartbroken boy or girl inside
to those who feel rejected and lonely
to those who woke up with a dull ache of emptiness inside
to those who are wondering where God is in the midst of their deep pain
to those whose past scars have been ripped opened yet again
to those weary and worn out, and long for some place called home
to those in the darkness who can’t seem to find the light
to those who wonder if they will ever find love
to those who feel misunderstood
to those carrying a painful secret
to those feeling abandoned and discarded
to those who feel they are running out of reasons to get out of bed each morning
to those in the clutches of depression
to those who are smiling on the outside but dying on the inside
to those suffering in silence
to those who wake up each morning in chronic pain
to those who are grieving loss
to those who don’t know how things get better…
I feel compassion this morning for all those in pain, discouragement, weariness, heartache, loneliness and despair. I don’t have anything especially enlightening to wax eloquent about, but what I want to say is that you are not alone. I’ve felt these things myself. We are not that different and we are connected. When you hurt, I hurt. When you find freedom, I do too. We are family. We are walking, stumbling, falling, rising on this journey together. I am you. You are me.
So right now I see a light at the end of the tunnel for all of us, and it’s a light of solidarity, compassion, understanding, recognition, empathy, tenderness, goodness, love, courage, gentleness, kindness, homecoming, healing, hope, liberation and grace. That light is you and it’s me and it’s all of us together as one.
You are not alone. You are not forgotten. Somebody cares. I am one of them.
Many of you need to be acknowledged… for all those things that no one else sees, notices or knows about you.
You’re still standing. That alone needs acknowledgement. No one can fully know the path you have walked, the heartache you have suffered, and the pain you have endured. It could have easily taken someone completely out of life. But you’re still here.
For many of you life sometimes feels like trying to run a marathon with your wrist handcuffed to your ankle. You’re doing the best you can under difficult conditions and circumstances. It’s tough and I know that, and you should be acknowledged for the fact that you sign up each day for life.
Many of you give so much of yourselves to others. You show up and you love. Sometimes that love goes unnoticed, doesn’t seem appreciated, and not always returned.
Some of you had been deeply wounded in life. Some have been victims of horrendous abuse, while others battle the demons of depression. Many of you have experienced catastrophic loss.
Let me be the first to acknowledge each of you for your courage.
Thank you for showing us that there is hope for every human being, whatever we have had to face and endure in life. Thank you for the love, compassion, kindness, gentleness and understanding you so liberally extend to others even though you have so seldom been on the receiving end of them.
You may come across people who make a hobby out of judging others. Maybe there are some folks who enjoy making sport of your life, or are so quick to judge you and your path. Don’t listen to them. It’s not worth your energy to concern yourself with them. They don’t know you or your life. Try not to let them get you down. Don’t give them permission to push into your life.
I’ve talked and interacted with many of you and heard many of your stories. I have nothing but the highest admiration for each of you – who you are as a human being, and the life you are living. Many of you have been kicked down in life more times than most people could imagine but you keep getting up. This world needs more people like you.
Never apologize for who you are or your life. There is nothing for you to defend or prove… ever! Your worth and value was settled and secure before you ever took your first breath. You are good. You are beautiful. Don’t ever let any person tell you any different.
You need so much more acknowledgement than anything I could
ever write in a post.
You don’t need a special Facebook page to have fans. Consider me one of your biggest fans, and someone who believes in you. Someone who doesn’t pretend to understand what you have in the past or are currently walking through, but someone who respectfully offers my acknowledgement of the miracle of you and your life.
Jim Palmer, from Facebook 12/26/2024
Gather Up, by Athey Thompson
I shall gather up
All the lost souls
That wander this earth
All the ones that are broken
All the ones that never really fitted in
I shall gather them all up
And together we shall find our home.
