The Holiday Season: Looking for the Light

We’ve come to know that the holiday season involves a mixed bag of emotions. Sometimes they appear like sprays of golden light in sync with those sparkly lights threading through wreaths and blinking in shopping malls. Then, in what seems like an instant, our feelings morph into a type of menace, resembling shards of shadows conjuring up ghosts of Christmases past. A holiday “spirit” capable of creating an undertow of melancholy. 

Mental health experts warn us to be aware of how the holidays can intensify our emotions. The “season” of magnified remembrances, both lovely and mournful. When people we’ve loved and lost reappear in our hearts and minds and whisper for our attention. It’s often hard to be joyful while also grappling with anxiety, even profound grief. 

"Loneliness and isolation can feel exacerbated during the holiday season," notes Shilagh Mirgain, a psychologist at UW Health in Madison, Wisconsin, as quoted in an AP story about how to find peace amid the "holiday blues." Mirgain suggests rather than focusing on what everybody else is doing or dreading any plans that don't spark joy, try volunteering to help others who may be alone or much less fortunate than we are.

"There's so much opportunity to give back during this time, and I think generosity is one of the best things we can do for our own well-being," offers Mirgain.

From merry to moody: coping with an expanded holiday “season” 

This tug-of-war to maintain our equilibrium is also anchored to a holiday that’s become elastic in meaning and length. It now starts in the US with a blitzkrieg of holiday sales, and doesn't let up until the January clear-out of leftover merchandise and half-priced wrapping paper. 

After unpacking boxes of holiday décor this year, I got misty-eyed handling the nearly 100-year-old bulb that once adorned my grandmother’s Christmas tree. Or the stocking we had made for our dog no longer around to sniff at what’s inside. Or the tattered gift box I still cherish from a cousin who’s now drifted out of my life. Memories flood forward, enough to make decorating our apartment a battle between heartfelt joy and looming sadness, these relics faithful witnesses to our past. The process becomes as much a delicate act of preservation as a curated presentation for anyone who stops by in 2024. 

It’s important to keep in mind that whatever we’re feeling is natural. And when it doesn’t feel like an organic process of ebb and flow, threatening to overwhelm us, it’s time to ask for help. 

There are as many articles about how to stay mentally healthy during this time of year as there are recipes for cookies. One I found particularly helpful is from the online mental health network, Better Help. It offers the following tips for keeping such seasonal highs and lows in perspective:  

• Appreciate positive feelings, especially those rooted in cherished traditions.

• Accept negative emotions, knowing they’re part of remembering (and come and go). 

• Adjust expectations, letting go of imagined perfection and embrace what’s possible. 

• Prioritize self-care, taking care of ourselves while we care for others, including traveling cross-town or cross-country to be with loved ones. 

• Embrace the joy of giving, being generous with our time and attention, along with gifts that carry meaning (not debt).  

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah? 

While I grapple with the full range of emotions wrapped around Christmas, I can’t comprehend what the prolonged holiday must mean for those who are Jewish or of other faiths and cultures. Navigating the steady barrage of commercialized yet quasi-religious messaging must be a challenge, leaving them choosing to participate by default or design. For the latter, perhaps a case of “when in Rome, do as the Romans do.” For many, the Christmas holiday is just another negotiation with what’s mainstream for groups often positioned as the “other” in American society. 

My neighborhood is a mini United Nations, with a nod and smile to our many Indian neighbors, many of them Hindu. Some 73% of Indians living in the US celebrate Christmas in some form or another, finding meanings that may parallel Hindu beliefs or that accommodate the spirit of Christmas. 

“Hinduism is so diverse, pluralistic and tolerant in our beliefs and practices, we can make room for pretty much any outlook -- which means we’re open to different ways of coexisting with Christmas,” notes Syama Allard, whose article appeared in Religion News Service, a non-profit and award-winning source of global news on religion, spirituality, and culture, founded in 1934. 

This ability to adapt also explains why the Orthodox Ethiopians running a nearby coffee shop, include Christmas décor along with objects that remind them of home. They too will celebrate Christmas (or Ganna), but not until January 7, adhering to the ancient Julian calendar. 

Art by Nahom Shiferaw, To learn more, visit dribble.com.

My Jewish friends celebrated Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year of 5785, back in October of 2024. They’ll also ring in the more familiar and upcoming New Year of 2025, as marked by the world’s dominant Gregorian calendar, first established by the Catholic Pope Gregory XIII in 1572. Adapting and even embracing what is mainstream was certainly understood by Irving Berlin. The Jewish composer gifted the Christian world that now cherished classic, “White Christmas.” Its lyrics first encouraging us to “be merry and bright” in 1942. 

While I quickly tire of the Hallmark Channel’s devotion to Christmas movies, my Jewish girlfriend is a loyal watcher. She’s committed to the entire season’s worth of formulaic boy-meets-girl melodramas, with their fake snowflakes appearing just in time for Christmas Eve. Hallmark released more than 40 new sagas for 2024, along with re-airing reruns of perennial favorites. These movies fail to provide me with any uplifting escapism.

Nor do those blow-up inflatables of Santa Claus or Frosty the Snowman on front lawns that come to life at night but look dead and deflated during the day. I believe, like Hallmark products, they’re trying too hard to manufacture delight. 

Then again, I wouldn’t miss my annual viewing of “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” which I’ve watched since I was in grade school. It’s timeless. And its characters, however much the invention of cartoonist Charles M. Schultz, possess real souls, including my favorite who can’t speak much beyond a bark. Who could forget Charlie’s pathetic Christmas tree, on which a lone bulb nearly cripples it. In the end, Linus, blanket in tow, steps forward as a pint-sized, modern-day Wise Man, proclaiming his faith in the retelling of Jesus’ birth, replete with manger and shepherds, and eloquently reminding his friends “what Christmas is all about.” 

[See the article, “My Jewish Charlie Brown Christmas” by James Poniewozik, who notes how this most overtly Christian TV holiday classic speaks to him “so deeply.”] 

Having little family with us in Arizona for the previous six years, my husband and I celebrated the holidays with Jewish friends, including the tradition of eating Chinese take-out on Christmas Day. These memories don’t lack for joy, nor are they missing any of that celebrated communal spirit of the season. In fact, they’re among some of our best Christmas memories ever. 

Although the dates vary each year by the Gregorian calendar, this year Hanukkah, the annual eight-day “festival of lights,” begins on December 25 and ends on January 2.  

Frohe Weihnachten and Glædelig Jul, everyone! 

The Christian world outside the US, where most of us have our ancestral roots, celebrate Christmas quite differently. Our German-born neighbor in Arizona found the expansive American Christmas difficult to grasp. He explained how Germans don’t decorate their trees until Christmas Eve, then limit the holiday rituals, for both Catholics and Protestants in nearly equal measures, to church services and family gatherings on December 25, the day actually dedicated to Christmas. 

My 96-year-old mother will wake up this Christmas and declare: “Happy Birthday, Jesus.” While she doesn’t go to mass anymore, she clings to what she believes to be the reason behind the holiday’s establishment. She disapproves of what she sees as a lack of Christ in Christmas, and resists returning many a store clerk’s greeting of “Happy Holidays.” I figure it’s not about erasing Christmas, but a gesture to be as inclusive as possible in such a multi-religious society as ours.

Even in Christian Scotland, for complicated historical and political reasons before and after the Reformation, Christmas didn’t become a recognized holiday until 1958. Before that Scots didn’t speak of Christmas but of “Yule,” a time to celebrate renewal and rebirth. Yule eventually became synonymous with Christmas, as in “yuletide carols being sung by a choir,” from another holiday classic, “The Christmas Song,” written in 1945. 

“Yule was a moment of hope and faith in the hardest months of the year,” notes Joriam Philipe in the online magazine of Babbel, the language-learning specialist. “Small villages would compete to become the brightest light in the darkness,” including “lights hanging in the trees.” 

A greeting card front displaying the 11th/12th Century Baldishol Tapestry, this one of Norwegian origin. Check out thetweedpig.com for more info.

But before it had anything to do with Christmas, Yule was Jól, a concept left behind by the Vikings and their pagan rituals surrounding the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year, occurring every December 21 or 22. It was a time of celebration with many of its rituals later absorbed into the Christian world’s Christmas. (More on the Winter Solstice below.)

Modern day Scandanavians still use a version of Yule in their holiday salutations: the Swedish and Norwegians will bid us “God Jul,” while the Finns offer “Hyvää Joulual.” The Danish version, Glædelig Jul, already introduced above.

As many historians and theologians now suggest, December 25 was perhaps chosen as Christ’s birthday, not because of historical fact (difficult to pinpoint), but in part to blend into, if not replace, existing pagan traditions linked to the solstice. 

Why can't these concepts co-exist? Be about welcoming the birth (symbolic or real) of the Lord and Savior, while bringing light and hope amid the dead of winter? Unlike Linus and the other 2.4 billion Christians in the world, maybe I’m still figuring out what Christmas is all about. 

Spirituality and Santa Claus

Santa Claus is the most ubiquitous symbol of the holiday in the US. He's secular and commercial enough to be accepted as the face of the holiday for most Americans, including most non-Christians. Yet, his roots are deeply religious. Santa is the modern embodiment of St. Nicholas, the 4th century bishop from a city in Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey). During his lifetime, he earned a reputation (and later sainthood) for his good deeds and generosity, with a special affinity for "children, sailors, and those who were falsely accused." After his death, and over the centuries, the saint became Santa Claus, a Dutch variant of his name, and now legendary North Pole resident with devoted elves and a Mrs. Claus. The reindeer arrived in the 19th century and take us back to Scandinavia. The tradition of candy canes, too, links back to St. Nicholas, reportedly representing "crosiers, or bishop's staffs, as bishops are the shepherds for God's people."

Our new apartment this year showcases an heirloom pillow with Santa's face on it, near a table-top Christmas tree with no ability to support an angel at the top. We do, however, have a rubbery, plastic 4-inch replica of Sylvester the Cat, whom Tweety Bird endlessly teased (careful to avoid any fatal confrontation). It was also the cartoon character that lent my father Sylvester his cool factor. It’s the last one from a holiday string of lights I used to decorate the spare room in our old house, where he and my mother stayed during the holidays. Once he passed away, the lights went back into a box. While unpacking this summer, we found a lone, leftover Sylvester, who's joined our already eclectic décor, becoming another ghost to keep us company for the holidays. 

A nativity ornament I bought from an artist named Ophelia in Santa Fe.

Part of my limbo about the meaning of Christmas, pardon the pun, is that I’m no longer a practicing Catholic, and unlikely to formally convert to anything else at this point. My sense of religion, broadly stated, is now a blend of whatever touches my soul and satisfies my curiosity about many belief systems. There are wise words and moral teachings to be found in many books on my shelves, ranging from the teachings of Buddha to the Kabbalah. I belong to a group that calls itself the “Spirit Circle,” in which we began years ago by trying to define spirituality. We came up with no less than 20 definitions, all of which encourage kindness, gratitude, and connection with a higher power outside ourselves. 

In mid-December I attended the “Joy of Christmas” concert, with the rich, soaring voices of the Cathedral Choral Society filling the National Cathedral in Washington, advertised as “a house of prayer for all people.” It’s a place equally sacred and secular, a hallowed space for dead presidents and notable dignitaries to lie in state for the nation to mourn. When the choir crescendoed with a soul-stirring rendition of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Looking over at my mother, I noticed her head was down and a tissue tucked under her nose. Like so many others, each of us were thinking about someone special we wished could be by our sides again. The choir sang to the heavens, not anyone’s singular version, but everyone’s. 

It reminded me of all the mosques, temples and churches I’ve visited in my travels over the years. It’s not always about saving my soul, but coupling with the faith-filled intentions of the believers who came before and left their devout energy behind. That’s what this Christmas concert was at its heart: joyful, intentional and full of grace. 

Maybe that's what Christmas is all about for me and many others as well. The mix of the sacred and the sublime. Highs and lows associated with remembrance, obligation, and gift-giving. It remains all so familiar but ever-changing, exacting costs that can deplete us, but also fill us with hope.

Winter Solstice, anyone? 

"Our holidays "don't have to be a Hallmark movie. Give yourself permission to do it differently this year," suggests Ellen Lee, a geriatric psychiatrist at UC San Diego Health. And that's exactly what we decided to do this year. Something different.

While our apartment still reflects plenty of Christmas cheer, albeit on a scaled-down version, we're expanding our hearts and minds (and taste buds) this year to encompass the wider world of the Winter Solstice that occurs just a few days prior to Christmas Day. What better way to take advantage of our new multicultural neighborhood than to bring home samples of food inspired by the far corners of the Earth to mingle with our more standard holiday staples? The Winter Solstice embraces even longer memories than ours, and, at its core is an expanded search for light and love, with food connecting people to enduring cultural meanings.  

Most people living today in the Northern Hemisphere commemorate this December day, with festivals dating back to ancient times. (In the Southern Hemisphere, similar festivals occur but take place in June.) 

Persia’s Shab-e Yalda was established roughly 5,000 years ago, and is still observed in Turkey and other Middle Eastern societies once influenced by ancient Persia. The word Yalda itself translates into “birth” or “rebirth,” and seems perfect for our globe-trotting party table. 

We’ll borrow their tradition of including pomegranates, and Persians' belief in the solstice being about "light triumphing over darkness, warmth over cold, and togetherness over solitude." They also relish the gathering of loved ones "to share stories, poetry, and traditional foods, creating an evening rich with cultural warmth and spiritual renewal." Sound familiar?           

As NPR chronicled, other major solstice-based events include the Dongzi Festivals, celebrated by most of Asia’s 4.5 billion people, with roots to in the Han dynasty (230 BCE). Since we have a Vietnamese restaurant across the street, we’re adding tang yuan (glutinous rice balls) to the menu as symbols of "reunion and prosperity."

Although we won't be in Egypt for this solstice to experience the sun rising between the columns of the Temple of Karnak, we can certainly include some baklava at the dessert table. Ancient Egyptians celebrated the solstice with a 12-day festival, one for each day of the calendar that honored the most powerful of their deities, the sun god Ra. A 2023 archaeological discovery confirmed the Egyptians’ respect for the solstice, uncovering a tomb from 1813 BCE designed to capture the elusive sun on this shortest day of the year.   

The oldest example of a monument built for the solstice, according to National Geographic, is in Newgrange, Ireland, where a large tomb mound built around 3200 BCE is located. It features a tunnel facing the solstice sunrise that washes the main chamber in light for about 17 minutes that day. We can certainly find something Irish to add to our table as well. 

Even closer to home, Native Americans honor the solstice with some worshipping ancient sun deities, with others revering the day for its promise of renewal and respect for the “celestial seasons.” 

No doubt our tasting menu will be a joyful blend of solstice-inspired foods from nearby eateries and grocers, including an Austrian cafe, where we can find strudel or stollen to celebrate Christmas and the German version of the solstice: Wintersonnenwende. 

As for drinks, Winter Solstice Martinis and non-alcoholic drinks using pomegranate juice and seeds, are not only lusciously red much like our Christmas décor, but also long embraced as signs of "light and goodness" and "a symbolic opposing force of darkness."

Whatever any of us do to make the holidays special, remember to do so from the heart. As the song lyric suggests: let our hearts be light. Do whatever it takes to keep those spirits bright. They may come as ghosts from Christmases past or those insisting we reflect on our current situations or ponder our futures (akin to those other Dickensian ghosts). 

Most of the world’s 8 billion residents celebrate some aspect of their belief systems during this prolonged “holiday” season, ensuring none of us are alone during this time of year. If nothing else, look up at the sky and embrace the sun and its light for however long it appears during this darkest of seasons. And, remember, it shines on every one of us.

“Don’t let the past steal the present," offers the British-born, American writer Taylor Caldwell. "This is the message of Christmas: we are never alone.”

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Thanksgiving: Turkeys, Stuffing & Families That Matter

Thanksgiving is intended to be a joyous, festive occasion when we give thanks for all that we have. Its fabled (and not necessarily accurate) roots are usually attributed to a shared harvest feast in 1621 between English settlers and the Wampanoag. For obvious reasons, many Native Americans still don't celebrate the holiday, considering it a day of mourning about what was to come. For the vast majority of Americans, it remains a holiday about being grateful for loved ones who share in a bountiful feast. It's also an occasion that can fill us with emotions from intense gratitude to unsettling dread.

One way to approach the holiday and maintain a sense of mental, physical and spiritual well-being is to follow the deceptively simple rules laid out by Don Miguel Ruiz in his acclaimed book, The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom. Ruiz explored ideas first espoused by the Toltec, a pre-Columbian Mesoamerican people noted for their pursuit of science, art, and spiritual knowledge gleaned from ancient sources. (See this site's Pinterest for more on Ruiz and his work.)

First agreement: be impeccable with our word

At Thanksgiving, that agreement may mean steering clear of conversations that might cause harm or exacerbate tensions. In light of the recent election that revealed a sharply divided country, that may prove challenging. Try to move the conversation into positive territory and about topics that offer common ground. This agreement also urges us to resist gossip, especially about those who aren't there (or might have just left the room).

If we say we’re going to make or bring a dish we’ve been assigned, make it happen. When we're impeccable with our word, reminds Ruiz, we "take responsibility for [our] actions." He urges, though, not to "judge or blame" ourselves if we fail. Guilt helps nobody and shame involves being unkind to ourselves. If we can't make the dish assigned, find the best substitute possible, given the time and money available.

If we’ve offered to cook the turkey, the star of the show, fully comprehend what that process entails. It’s a bit intimidating and best to prepare well in advance. There's no shortage of advice from relatives and experts online. Below is a brief description (enough to keep me from volunteering for the job).

The average turkey served for the holiday weighs in at around 15 pounds. That size bird, whether fresh or recently thawed (to be done well ahead of time), requires planning and an understanding of temperatures and timetables. If dinner's at 4 p.m., back up to consider what has to be done and when to make that happen.

After removing the neck and giblets tucked inside (my roommate and I forgot that step, already in trouble for buying a last-minute turkey with only one wing), rub down the skin and cavity with butter (or oil) and season it with poultry spices (sage, rosemary, thyme).

Fill the cavity (or not, depending on family tradition) with some type of filling, then close off the space using metal skewers, string or even dental floss (a process called trussing). Next, arrange the turkey in a pan so it’s elevated and encourages even cooking. Some recipes describe a bed of carrots, others suggest bundling up wads of tin foil as a base. Once the turkey is roasting, baste occasionally during the roughly four hours of cooking time, then let the bird “rest” for another 20 minutes. Commence carving! I’m exhausted just writing about it.

Second agreement: don't take anything personally

Before, after and during the Thanksgiving dinner, we spend time visiting with family and friends (often closer to us than blood relatives). Sometimes we enjoy sharing stories and hugs. Other times, we stick to small talk and avoid topics that invite scrutiny or judgment calls.  

"Even when a situation seems so personal, even if others insult you directly, it has nothing to do with you," advises Ruiz. That's hard to keep in mind when others look us in the eye and question our lifestyle, profession, or why we're sporting a new tattoo. Ruiz urges us to keep in mind that it's about how they see the world, their words revealing their beliefs or biases. It's not really about us at all.

If we only have to get through the holiday, try to look such people in the eye and conjure up a positive image to divert our attention. (I had a fellow coach suggest I picture a long-stemmed rose blocking out the annoying person's face!)

If that doesn't work, remember that people we do cherish are linked to them and smile through this fleeting moment. The point is to leave frustrating people to live in their worlds, the one that so disturbs or displeases them, while yours is able to thrive in the light of grace.

As a last resort, go nibble on something delicious to help neutralize their negativity. Anyone seen my wine glass?

Third agreement: don't make assumptions

This agreement certainly comes into play during this holiday, already overburdened with memories and overflowing with expectations. Many of us may remember Thanksgiving as a time when our grandmothers, mothers, aunts, and sisters started dinner shortly after the sun came up. According to Butterball, a brand of turkeys that operates a help hotline during the holiday, women still do the majority of the holiday's hefty lifting. However, don't assume that's the only way it must be just because it was so in the past. Or that there's only one right way to de-lump mashed potatoes. It's also not a sin in any religion on Earth to use canned gravy or paper plates.

"We make an assumption, we misunderstand, we take it personally, and we end up creating a whole big drama for nothing," notes Ruiz.

To avoid such misunderstandings, err on the side of clear communication about who does what, when, and how to get Thanksgiving dinner on the table. Learn to embrace change as the only constant about this long-standing tradition. Times have certainly changed about how Americans approach this day of feasting and giving thanks. The traditional dinner, along with a turkey, includes mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, corn, stuffing, cranberry sauce, dinner rolls, and pumpkin pie. There are as many variations as there are people standing in grocery stores studying their shopping lists.

Gender-wise, my father, a product of his generation, only arrived in the kitchen when it was time to carve the turkey then wandered off after dessert to resume watching football. However, more men and an expanded list of helpers now routinely chip in and cover assignments. They help do the shopping, chop vegetables, and set the table.

My brother took over making the turkey when it was his turn to host the holiday and deep-fried it. There's nothing like it when done well, the crusty exterior keeping the meat inside tender and moist. Some members of my family battle over who gets access to the crispy skin, like it's some rarefied delicacy to be consumed immediately, looking as if it's been ravaged by wolves before anyone has come near it with a carving knife. Unlike my brother who's mastered the technique, the National Fire Prevention Association warns about its inherent dangers, including trips to the ER and up to $15 million in property damage each year when hot grease, flames, and first-timers try this method.

Even if families today cook a traditional turkey for their Thanksgiving or Friendsgiving, they may opt for healthier side dishes or update family recipes to suit expanding palettes, even to be mindful of dietary restrictions. I've hunted down a few organic or fresh turkeys in my search for "healthier" options, but the price tag for fresh can cost up to three times more than a frozen one. 

I also find myself feeling guilty every year as I watch the US president pardon a lone turkey and spare it from ending up as somebody’s dinner. I know that makes me a hypocrite. I'm a city girl who expects my meat and poultry to come wrapped in cellophane and without eyes looking back at me.

That's why one year, when I was trying to be a vegetarian, I skipped eating the bird altogether and joined a friend who made a delicious alternative. I warned her not to offer me anything made with Tofurky. Other than the silly name, it's actually just a mix of wheat gluten, tofu, canola oil, and natural flavorings such as carrots, celery, and leeks.

One of the recipes being featured this year on the New York Times cooking app is Vegetarian Mushroom Wellington. Keeping up with the trend, the Food Network offered a list of 56 non-turkey recipes in time for this year’s Thanksgiving. 

Imported and improvised side dishes 

Our immigrant ancestors also added their home country dishes to our American Thanksgiving dinners, whether from many generations back or still evident in offspring with lingering accents. My first Thanksgiving with my husband's Italian American family was a game-changer for me. The customary turkey was served, including the usual side dishes, but the menu also featured sausage and peppers, along with lasagna and other dishes inspired by their memories of Calabria. I couldn't help but eat a little of everything, which compounded that feeling of being overstuffed by the end of the day. Mangiare molto!

Regional variations abound as well, starting with whether we call what’s put inside the turkey’s cavity (or served as a stand-alone side dish), “stuffing” to indicate roots in the Midwest or New England (where they add bits of mussels or oysters). Or a cornbread-based “dressing” that points to a Southern upbringing. 

Wherever we hail from, most of us opt for a combination of homemade and store-bought to complete our menus. Some even have the whole meal catered by a local grocer or gourmet eatery. My mother, now 96, stopped making pies from scratch. Rather than start with flour and lard, which her mother taught her makes the flakiest crust, my mother gradually opted to "assemble" ingredients and then pour the mix into a pre-made pie crust. When I was given the dessert assignment, not having inherited any talent for baking (or assembling) such dishes, I bought the ginormous pumpkin pie offered by Costco. Sorry, Grandma!

Fourth agreement: always do our best

This agreement was the author’s favorite and what he considered to be the most comprehensive. See the short video to hear his take. It's up to us to know what our best is, not our great-aunts or second cousins who greet the dish we brought with an arched brow or worried grimace. As long as we gave it our all under the circumstances, we can hold our heads up high.

It's about balancing what we value with the values of others. Some have expectations that one of us is willing to get up at dawn to prep, stuff and roast a whole turkey. Others think the fact that they showed up in a clean sweater and a package of store-bought rolls is their best.

One memorable Thanksgiving a few decades back, my aunt and mother were locked away for hours in the kitchen, where we thought they were whipping up our favorite homemade dishes, including mashed potatoes and stuffing. Assumptions galore on our parts! We looked forward to their gravy made with pan drippings, including the giblets that had slow-simmered in some celery and onion all afternoon. However, the pair presented us with a warmed-up turkey loaf (a sodium bomb, if there ever was one), packaged stuffing, pre-made mashed potatoes, frozen corn, and, most shocking of all, cranberry "sauce" from a can, a gelatin blob that jiggled on the dish after being sliced into slabs.

These two accomplished cooks had spent the afternoon giggling and reliving favorite memories. To be fair, they only saw each other once or twice a year at this point in their lives. They weren't taking shortcuts to make a point. Nor did they complain when the rest of us avoided the kitchen to watch back-to-back football games. While laying their concoctions on the table, still sipping on their second or third martinis of the afternoon, they reminded us of the ultimate point of the holiday: to spend time with friends and family, savor a meal together, and give thanks for what we have.

We do what we need to do to make it work for ourselves and our families and friends. When I was a professor and faced a lot of papers to grade over the Thanksgiving holiday, I asked my husband and mother what they wanted to do about dinner. It was just the three of us so we opted to have individual turkey pot pies. The only downside was not having the usual leftovers that could supply us with meals for the rest of the week.

Doing our best to eat healthy (or not) 

Doing our best on this front may mean, first, not beating ourselves up for whatever we eat over the course of the long Thanksgiving Day. For better or worse, eating too much is part of the ritual, whether it's homemade or store-bought. If this is a primary concern, read the tips below for help staying in control of the situation. Some have worked for me.

First, offer to bring healthy dishes we love and hope others will too. At least we’d know we had a "friend" at the table. Make sure we really love the dish, though, and aren’t just bringing a kale-based casserole because we want to impress others (or ourselves). Like the proverbial tree in the forest, if nobody eats the dish, including us, its benefits don’t really happen.

Second, put one or two favorite things on our plates and walk away. If that’s pumpkin pie and mashed potatoes, so be it. Then wait 20 minutes and go back and add another favorite thing. Wait again. This allows our bodies enough time to signal that we're full and avoid over-eating. Besides, there’s no rule that says we have to eat a bite of everything on the menu just because it’s there. Even better, take a walk in between and get a breath of fresh air. A win-win!

If we're part of a smaller gathering, our choices are more manageable, as we have more say in what’s included, making it easier to control what we eat. One Thanksgiving my roommate (the same one that brought home the one-winged turkey) suggested we make ourselves a healthy turkey chili and skip the rest of the carbohydrate-heavy side dishes. We ended the day pleased with ourselves and avoided the usual sluggish afterglow. 

No matter what options we choose, healthy, unhealthy or somewhere in between, show ourselves some mercy. It's just one day out of the year, do the best you can and move on.

What else is there to do but eat?  

For my family growing up in Detroit, watching the Lions on TV was as important as locating a prime seat in the dining room (and avoid being relegated to the kid’s table). The Lions were the first NFL team to permanently host an NFL game on Thanksgiving Day, starting in 1934. The league suspended such games during WWII, resuming play in 1944. The games were finally televised in 1953, with other teams (chiefly the Dallas Cowboys) establishing another Thanksgiving match-up in 1966. A third set of teams was added in 2006. 

They can’t possibly cram in any more football games without interfering in that other non-eating tradition: Thanksgiving Day parades. These three-hour events feature dozens of marching bands and scores of imaginative floats, with the arrival of Santa Claus as the fitting finale.

The oldest parade is Philadelphia’s, which started back in 1920, although New York City’s Macy’s parade, begun in 1924, is the one most of us watch, as it's broadcast nationwide. My hometown's parade was founded in 1926 and still going strong. It’s included among Lonely Planet’s list of the top seven parades in the country and draws a million spectators, being syndicated across 185 markets well beyond Detroit's. The picture below is courtesy of the Detroit Historical Society.

That's should be enough to keep us occupied between mouthfuls of food. Should there be any energy left after cleaning up and sending people home with Tupperware containers, we can always plot out a few strategies for Black Friday shopping. My sister-in-law used to get up at 3 a.m. and arrive at the stores before they opened in search of deals. The name comes from the concept known to retailers, hoping the day kicks off a robust holiday shopping season that yields enough profits to put them “in the black” by year’s end (versus being “in the red”). 

If Thanksgiving is the start of holiday binge-eating, then the day after is the beginning of holiday binge-shopping. The link between the health-challenged feasting and a healthy economy was not lost on politicians when they established the legal holiday. Although Thanksgiving was first recognized in 1789, many presidents have experimented with the exact date, hoping to buttress commercial interests. According to the US Center for Legislative Archives, FDR tried to move Thanksgiving to an earlier date in November to maximize the "Christmas shopping season" and sustain economic recovery following the Great Depression.

Now the term Black Friday is less about a one-day mega-shopping event and more of a broad-based label to describe the beginning of the ever-expanding holiday shopping season. Nowadays it starts shortly after the Halloween candy is pulled from the shelves and ends well after we've taken down the holiday décor and stored it back in the attic, garage or under the bed.

After the last morsel is consumed, say thank you!

In the end, and for most of us, our efforts to make the most of Thanksgiving are firmly planted in our desire to participate and to celebrate in such a long-standing tradition. It retains its value, despite the labors involved, the emotions tested, and the hit-or-miss experiments with cherished recipes and divergent tastebuds.

Like anything else we hold dear, it requires effort to pull off. It also depends on locating that nexus of joy inside us that makes us willing to show up year after year and bring something of value to the table. Even though our good intentions and well-being aren’t on the menu, they matter more than any bite of turkey (or Tofurky).  

Many Americans, be they Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or followers of other faiths, hold hands in prayer or simply utter a verbal thank you for the food and company at this annual gathering. We know well how Thanksgiving propels us to work closely with our loved ones, to fully cooperate for a shared sense of purpose. That doesn’t mean it all goes smoothly. It wouldn’t be a family dinner or get-together with close friends if there wasn’t some drama. After all, these people know us best, are privy to most of our secrets, and are eye witnesses to our more embarrassing childhood moments.

Our biggest fear is not death, suggests Ruiz, it's "the risk to be alive and express what we really are."

As we sit down at the table this Thanksgiving, we fully grasp what’s at stake: to be our most authentic selves, including our flaws, while embracing our loved ones, with flaws of their own.

Chances are, if we follow the four agreements outlined above, we come armed with ancient wisdom that puts a premium on being our best selves. Whether we're gathered around a hastily assembled card table or crowded into a large dining room, remember to be impeccable with our word, don't take anything personally, don't make assumptions, and, above all, do our very best.

Happy Thanksgiving! 

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From SAD to Cozy: Coping with Seasonal Changes

This post explores how the darker days and fading light that arrive with autumn, and intensify in the coming winter months, can impact our well-being. It also highlights a few coping strategies to lean in rather than surrender to the effects of seasonal shifts. New posts in the Mind Body Spirit series, are published every Saturday at noon.

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Earlier this year I moved to the DC area from Arizona and hadn't realized how much I missed the fall spectacle of gold and orange leaves slowly cascading off trees. In Arizona, we welcome the end of 100-degree days. So do the "snowbirds" who arrive each year to follow the sun until spring beckons them back home.

Beyond appreciating the curled edges of drying leaves crunching under foot, I also love autumn for its embrace of pumpkin-inspired décor and pumpkin-flavored food and drinks. The Food Network this year offered its collection of 65 pumpkin-based recipes, from the more novel pumpkin lasagna rolls to that reliable favorite: pumpkin pie. As the article notes, "It wouldn't be fall without pumpkin everything!" Personally I couldn't wait for the return of the pumpkin spice latte, and renew my shock at what this autumnal addiction costs me.

Fall also welcomes back our favorite TV shows, with premiers of new seasons that end their summer vacations as well. I also relish unpacking my favorite sweaters and suede booties, rescuing them from their months-long exile at the back of my closet. As a "true autumn," after having my colors analyzed last year, I start noticing how everyone seems to be wearing my wardrobe's palette after Labor Day. (Stay tuned for an upcoming post and video about the benefits of color analysis to simplify your wardrobe and brighten your outlook.)

Having grown up in the Midwest, I know well what comes after falling leaves and pumpkin mania. Perhaps skiers and snowmobilers are among the few who welcome the drop in temperatures and the sight of snow, heaven-sent or man-made. Or those who like making snowmen on their front lawns, with carrots for noses and sticks for arms.

For the rest of us, the cooler days of autumn, and the chillier days of winter that follow, send signals to our bodies that can trigger harmful responses. We slow down, become less active. We find ourselves indoors more, burrowing under a warm blanket in front of a crackling fire to stay warm. Ok, that's a Hallmark movie. Lacking a fireplace, just put on a long-playing video and pretend!

The point is that we start to think our bodies are not ours to control. We become convinced that cold winds and germ-laden sneezes are out to get us. We prepare to hunker down for the next few months and hope our constitutions are strong enough to get us through to spring.

What's happening is that two phenomena are simultaneously impacting our sense of well-being: falling temperatures and fading light. Both can adversely affect our immune systems. The combination makes us more vulnerable to "seasonal illnesses" such as colds and flus. Don't even get me started on dry skin.

If that isn't enough to darken our mood, there's weight gain from having a more sluggish metabolism. Watching our weight after the spooky fun of Halloween falls away (and we polished off all that candy), is made more difficult with the onset of the holiday season. That's when we really cut loose with some heavyweight feasting. (I'll address that issue in my November 23rd post.)

We don't have to be victims of the weather or the lack of light. Our homemade remedies, whether feasting on comfort foods or bingeing on social media, are ways we soothe the symptoms of this emerging malaise. Shaming ourselves for turning to these quick "fixes" only compounds any growing sense of isolation.

What impacts our bodies of course also infects our minds and further darkens our spirit. Not the kind featured in endless loops of holiday music we'll hear for the next six weeks. But a spirt that's more of a guiding light emanating from deep within us, where we hold space for solace and create a sanctuary for sacred wisdom.

So, let's explore a few options that might help us be more consistent and confident in how we approach self care in the months ahead.

Here comes the sun!

We can learn a lot from those who live through extreme cases of cold and dark conditions as the seasons change. Despite having as little as five hours of daylight in many parts of Scandinavia, and tolerating the cold weather enough to spend time in "icebars," they're among the happiest people in the world. (Check out these ice-crafted drinks served at the Hotel C Stockholm.)

In other words, Scandinavians often figure: if we can't beat it, lean into it!

That's not to say Nordic peoples aren't susceptible to SAD, seasonal affective disorder or seasonal depression. It's a condition that's woven into their cultural zeitgeist, but they prepare for its arrival and take bold action to keep it from overwhelming their otherwise positive natures.

In general, those diagnosed with SAD may suffer from low energy, sleepiness, changes in appetite, and feelings of hopelessness, among other symptoms. The best treatment often involves light therapy. These lamps are widely available online or in stores throughout areas that experience darker winters, including much of North America.

According to Jake Choiniere, a psychiatrist at Providence Swedish hospital, light treatment involves "a special kind of full spectrum lamp that delivers at least 10,000 lux light intensity, every morning, for 20-30 minutes a day," as quoted in a popular Swedish health blog.

To learn more about the pros and cons of light therapy, check out Healthline Media, a reputable, free online source located in the US. Or watch this brief video from the Mayo Clinic.

What needs attention involves our circadian rhythms, a type of biological clock that triggers our bodies to release chemicals and hormones that energize our days and induce sleep once it's dark outside. Shorter days force are bodies to adapt, but sometimes they need help.

Hygge: creating a home that hugs

Another lesson we can learn from Scandinavians, particularly from the Danes, is the concept of hygge (pronounced hoo-gah), which is actually a Norwegian word that describes a sense of well-being. It's become a global movement and joins the ranks of other cultural exports that later get adopted and adapted to suit local needs.

A quick check of Pinterest (including this site's under Mindful Living) or online bookstores can testify to the hundreds of variations that basically honor the winning concept.

Meik Wiking, author of "The Little Book of Hygge: Danish Secrets of Happy Living," also the CEO of the Happiness Research Institute, offers a comprehensive explanation.

Hygge is more of a holistic concept and attitude toward life that encapsulates what Danes value most. A penchant for equality and the rejection of discord in favor of tolerance and community. It urges us to be grateful for simple pleasures, to aim to reuse and recycle rather than to buy new, to invest in public spaces (especially those that are green), and to respect an individual's right to privacy.

Above all, it's about seeking balance and a sense of purpose, for ourselves and communities at large. No wonder they're happy people. Hygge is a manifesto for living a richly rewarding life year-round. It's especially true for how to survive the winter months when we're up against Mother Nature.

Miking advises us to create cozy spaces. To incorporate natural elements (wood surfaces, green plants, wooly textures) and pay close attention to lighting. That doesn't mean the Danes turn up all the lights and blind themselves happy. They enjoy creating nooks equipped with soft, ambient lighting just as much as choosing a window seat to bask in the available daylight, however diffused.

I laughed out loud at Wiking's description of the importance of creating a "Viking proof seat" in our homes to make us feel safe and secure. He speaks of surviving today's turbulent times, but he draws on a collective, ancient memory of living in a land that was home to some of the most fierce and iconic invaders in history.

If the above ideas don't work, there's always hibernation, a winter time-out for some types of mammals, including bears, bats, and groundhogs. That last species is now famously disturbed from its stupor every February 2 by the people of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, to predict how much longer winter will last.

Scientists are increasingly studying if aspects of hibernation could benefit homo sapiens, otherwise known as us humans.

Think like a bear?

We're most familiar with bears as examples of hibernators. Contrary to our most common assumption about what they do in winter, they don't actually sleep. But they do lie still enough to slow down their metabolic states and stop performing most of their bodily functions. Their breathing and heart rates slow down to allow them to conserve as much energy as possible. Hibernation can last from two to five months, depending on their geography and habitats.

Although humans can't really pull off full-blown hibernation, many scientists are exploring the benefits of inducing some form of it to help "treat cardiac arrest ... [and[ boost longevity."

"Humans may retain the biological mechanisms to trigger aspects of hibernation," notes Antonio Sortino in New Scientist magazine. Hibernation, which allows for brain-signaling pathways to become dormant, could be used to "combat conditions that plague modern humans, including Alzheimer’s disease, stroke and heart attack."

Sandy Martin, a researcher with the University of Colorado offers, "The common ancestor of all mammals was a hibernator," thus it's possible we have inherited this "genetic hardware."

Check out these "fun facts" about hibernating bears from a non-profit affiliate of Yellowstone National Park. Writers there also tout medical benefits, including possibly "preventing osteoporosis and Type II diabetes," along with helping those who suffer from kidney failure. If that wasn't promising enough, scientists are investigating how hibernation can prolong the viability of human organs for transplant.

Bears start preparing for the process in the fall. They start eating excessively, which is a process called hyperphagia, "sort of like humans at Thanksgiving, but lasting several weeks." They eat up to 20,000 calories and gain up to three pounds a day. Those stores of fat will help them get through winter. Humans can hardly claim their holiday bingeing serves the same purpose!

Using our bodies to combat melancholy

Until scientists figure out how we humans can yield hibernation-like benefits, there's is always plain old exercise. First, it may offset the effects of "human hyperphagia" that we'll be trying out during the holidays ahead! Second, it's one of the treatments for SAD and a proactive way to stave off the winter blues.

Any movement helps boost our metabolism and lift our moods. Most of us grasp just how important exercise is for whatever ails us year-round. But it's especially valuable during the months ahead.

Do it indoors or go outside. Try dancing, join a gym, bundle up and take a walk, take a dog (or borrow one) to keep you company. Pet owners already know how much these furry creatures can contribute to our mental health. If big enough, they can also keep us warm.

Above all, wellness gurus stress the need to stay social. Even if you don't live near a Swedish ice bar, there are plenty of places to connect on a regular basis with friends and family. It's a strong deterrent against seasonal afflictions. Don't wait for the coming holidays to be with your people.

Or use Meet-Up to find some new ones. Use Zoom or FaceTime to connect with loved ones who live far away. I have to rely on these methods to stay in touch with friends n Arizona and Michigan. It's not ideal, but our friendships matter so we make it work. As the saying goes, laughter is the best medicine and even across the miles, it works wonders for the soul.

If you need help with anything that was shared in this blog, book a discovery call below. Remember I'm here to listen and help you map your path forward.

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