Not This Year

This last year was a long, strung out struggle for my family, same as it was for many families I know. With unrelenting stress, economic woes and humanitarian crisises becoming a normal part of our lives on a global scale, most of us are burnt out. Honestly, I feel like there should be another word used here to describe this state of being where life keeps coming at us with high energy demands, but we're all running on fumes, but I can't think of it right now, so I suppose 'burnt out' will have to do. 

I'm not gonna even say that I'm glad this year is over. I'm not feeling optimistic that next year will be better. I'm just gonna hope for the best, while trying to build my resilience to meet whatever challenges come my way.

Part of doing that is knowing when to rest and when to be active. 

As I've grown older, I've realized that sometimes it's fine to half ass tasks and skip on tradition. Sometimes doing some of a chore, or a task is better than doing none of it, because when you have health or other challenges in your life that syphon your energy, waiting until you can complete a task to perfection is equal to never getting to it at all. 

I feel the same about traditions. Holiday and other celebratory traditions are meant to fill our cups. They're meant to lift spirits in a communal way that nourishes our souls in unison. They aren't there to drain or drag us down. This year my family skipped a couple of our annual Christmas traditions. With my husband's and my health issues we were unable to make them happen without significant sacrifice. While I felt a little sad about not participating in some of the usual activities, I felt a sense of relief and peacefulness. I managed to sidestep the anxiety and give gratitude to what I can do with joy, instead of dragging through what I thought I *had* to do. I wanted to be present in what my life is right now, even if it's not what I expected.

This kind of approach to celebrations isn't new for us in terms of raising neurodivergent children. Beans is a young man now, but still doesn't care for his routine to change much. He tends to get anxious when we ask him to unwrap gifts. He doesn't like it, so why make him do it? We usually put his gifts into an open gift bag and leave it for him to go through at his leisure. No pressure. Below is a picture of what's left on the 28th of the basket we piled his gifts into Christmas Eve. He had pulled out about half of it in the last 3 days. He seemed to like the things he received, but he needs time to feel it all out. That's fine with us. Sometimes we all do.