For the very first time, the festive feeling didn't come early this year. In fact, I was a little surprised to discover that December had arrived faster than it was anticipated. I mean, don't get me wrong, of course I was excited (you know I'm always down for Christmas), but I don't think I was mentally prepared either (to be fair though, who was?). The sudden arrival of the last month of the year kind of threw me off guard. 2021 flew by so fast that this month almost felt like it was not slated.
From the lens of someone who has been waiting for Christmas the whole year, it does seem a bit weird. Where is this air that always hits different when I'm walking down the street on the first day of December? Where the heck do the vibes, the growing impatience, and the anticipation go? How could I not recognize the festive feeling one month earlier like I usually did? At the end of November, I haven't even felt the pull to start playing my go-to Christmas playlist yet.
Now that I think about it, I suppose it's probably my cue to slow down a little bit, to remember all the things I wrote in the past about enjoying life and doing things at your own pace. But everyone knows it's easier said than done. In practice, it's easy to overlook the bagatelles when you feel like you have to always aim for the important bigger things. It's even easier to get lost in your expectation just to realize that the only way out is to drop everything all together.
I should be more relaxed. I should be more at ease. I have the advantage of not being pushed unwillingly towards another's ambition or ridiculous dream. I have the privilege of exploring my potential in no hurry. My parents never rush me to be one step ahead of what I have become—I have failed to do things correctly a few times and they still support me endlessly. It is me and my perfectionist ass, I sometimes can't believe, that can be so hard on myself and set the expectation bar a little too high.
This Christmas, I'm learning to be more aware of what I need and not what I think I need. I'm learning to take a step back and permeate the fact that failing is a part of life, that a little stain on things I hope so bad would be impeccable would harm no one. I realize that the reason as to why the festive feeling came a little later this year is because of myself. I've been putting all my focus on making sure that everything is perfect and unknowingly belittling my vital role as a life wanderer.
Yes, this needs to stop. I need to center my attention towards the process rather than the outcome. I need to appreciate little things even more than I already did. Most importantly, I need to cut myself some slack and stop obsessing over whether I've given my best. Christmas should be a series of beautiful stories woven into the spirit of joy, like the time my sister and I did some early Christmas shopping last week, or when I bought a glass of peppermint chocolate as an attempt to call out the holiday vibes. It's not only a moment. It's a lifestyle you adopt every December.
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