Christmas: Rituals Between Closeness and Obligation
The shadow side of Christmas begins where “that’s how it’s done” becomes more important than “that’s where we are right now”.
Christmas can be a wonderful time. Family and friends come together. Closeness becomes possible. Belonging becomes tangible. Security becomes ritualized.
But sometimes the days are so packed with food, gifts, plans, and harmony projects that the actual togetherness can no longer breathe.
Needs don’t thrive on agenda items. They thrive on contact. And contact needs rhythm: sometimes closeness, sometimes withdrawal, sometimes attentiveness, sometimes pause. When that movement is missing, something rigid easily sets in, or something exhausted. Under pressure, Christmas often becomes a catch-all for everything that was neglected during the year.
Everything is supposed to happen at once: reconciliation. Warmth. Lightness. Meaning.
And yet frustration is structurally built in: every decision strengthens one pole and leaves another wanting.
How does this show up in daily life during these days?
◽️ “I’m there, but inwardly at a distance.” ◽️ “I push through because it’s just part of the deal.” ◽️ “I want to make it nice, and I get irritated when it isn’t.” ◽️ “I feel responsible for the mood, the rhythm, the peace.”
That’s not a moral issue. It’s often protection: from conflict, from disappointment, from the risk of truly feeling what’s actually going on.
What can bring relief, without having to “fix” anything:
> Not everything needs to be loaded onto these few days. > Maybe, for this Christmas, a small shift in the question is enough: not “How do we do it right?” but rather: “What are we attuning to together right now, and what would feel fitting today?”
And yes: plans are fine. Cooking is fine. Gifts are fine. Rituals are fine. They only become heavy when they’re meant to replace what only real relating can provide.
And to everyone who shows up out of a sense of duty:
It’s ok to frustrate your needs. What matters is not whether you get everything, but whether you inwardly acknowledge what’s falling short right now, without pushing it away or devaluing it.
And whether you know a place where you can nourish it elsewhere.
Three reflection questions for the holidays ahead:
- What absolutely has to happen during these days? What does that expectation cost me?
- Where am I performing ritual instead of risking contact?
- Which need am I voluntarily frustrating, and where could I nourish it in the coming weeks, more quietly, more genuinely, more fittingly?
This week and next I’ll be posting on Tuesday at 12:00. From January 9th, the regular Friday 7:30 schedule resumes. Merry Christmas!