Vibrant Living | Holiday 2025

There’s a story my friend Rosie once shared about her dad, who passed away when she was just ten.

Her mom loves to tell it.

One Christmas morning, Rosie—then six years old—woke up hours before anyone else and decided she had to assemble a new toy kitchen all by herself. By the time her parents came downstairs, they found her sitting on the floor in tears, surrounded by scattered screws and mismatched parts—overwhelmed, exhausted, and wracked with guilt for opening her Santa gifts too early.

Her dad didn’t scold her. He set down his coffee, sat beside her, gave her a hug, and quietly helped her put it together.

That story has stayed with me—not just for its sweetness, but for how deeply it mirrors the holidays for so many of us, even as adults.

So much effort.
So much expectation.
So many moving pieces.
And often, the feeling that we’re trying to make something meaningful come together without a clear set of instructions… while quietly blaming ourselves for not getting it right.

And then there’s the guilt.

For not feeling joyful enough.
For feeling sad at all.
For missing someone.
For wanting to disappear for a bit.

If any of that resonates, I want you to know this first:

You are not alone.
And it’s okay if a few screws go missing.

Making Space for What’s Real

For many people, the holiday season isn’t just festive—it’s emotionally charged. Grief and longing can sit right alongside moments of warmth and connection. Sometimes there’s joy. Sometimes there’s a deep sense of not quite belonging. Often, there’s all of it at once.

The work isn’t to fix those feelings or push them away.
It’s to notice them.
Allow them.
Let them move through.

And when possible, to gently make room for small, ordinary moments of whatever feels real.

That, in itself, is self-care.

Listen to Your Body (It’s Telling the Truth)

When life speeds up, our bodies usually slow us down—if we’re willing to listen.

Feeling tired? Achy? Foggy?
That’s not a failure. That’s information.

Move in ways that feel kind.
Dance to a holiday playlist. Sing while baking—even if you get the words wrong. Stretch after a long day of errands. Step outside for a short walk in the cold air and let your senses wake up.

Rest before you collapse.
Yes, the unproductive kind. Sit yourself down and do nothing. If that feels impossible, set a ten-minute timer and start there.

And breathe—often.
Long, slow exhales calm the nervous system. Let your out-breath be longer than your in-breath. You don’t need a perfect practice—just a few intentional pauses.

Boundaries Are Not Unkind

The holidays have a way of reviving old dynamics and conversations that lead nowhere good.

You are allowed to step away.
You are allowed to say no.
You are allowed to protect your peace.

People-pleasing isn’t the same as caring. Sometimes the most compassionate choice—for everyone—is to disengage.

And if you need a break?
Go to the loo. Truly.
Adults rarely follow you there.

Let Joy Be Small (and Imperfect)

We’re often taught that holiday joy has to be big, visible, and shared publicly. But the moments that linger are usually quieter.

Lighting a candle and sitting in the stillness.                                                                Picking up and playing the Ukulele even when you don't really know how to play          Breathing in the smell of cookies or fresh bread.
Listening to laughter spill out unexpectedly.
Letting yourself cry when you need to—and laugh when it surprises you.

Joy doesn’t have to be forced. Let it surprise you. 

Release the Fantasy

If the turkey’s dry, the plans change, or the tree tips over—let it become part of the story, not the source of stress.

Perfection isn’t the goal. Presence is.

Create What Fits Now

Traditions can comfort us—or weigh us down.

If celebrating feels different this year, honor that. If you’re missing someone, find a small way to remember them. Bake their favorite recipe. Light a candle. Speak their name.

And if old traditions no longer feel right, give yourself permission to create new ones. Volunteer. Host a potluck. Stay in pajamas all day watching movies.

There is no “right” way to do the holidays—only what feels meaningful to you.

One More Thing: Turn the Noise Down

Social media has a way of convincing us we’re doing it wrong.

You’re not.

If scrolling makes you feel behind, inadequate, or left out—turn it off. The holidays are not a performance.

A Gentle Closing

My hope for you this season is simple:

Slow down when you can.
Let go of what you can’t carry.
Savor what’s quietly good.

Light a candle. Sip something warm. Breathe deeply. Use your favorite Mood Indigo oils if they bring you comfort. Cry if you need to. Laugh if it bubbles up.

And let this be the year you put yourself on your own holiday list.

You deserve that care—now, and always.

As always, I love hearing from you. Please feel free to reach out if this stirs something within you.