Being forced to slow down during the holidays? It’s teaching this writer some lessons

But this year? I’m benched.

My December calendar has transformed from a color-coded whirlwind to something I barely recognize: Rest. Hydrate. Walk a little. Rest again. Do not lift anything that weighs more than a small loaf of bread. Nothing makes you rethink your entire holiday rhythm quite like not being allowed to carry a laundry basket.

At first, it felt like the universe was playing a joke on me. How do you “rest” in December? Resting in December is like trying to meditate during a toddler birthday party. It doesn’t make sense. But slowly, very slowly, I started noticing something, the holidays are happening anyway.

The family turned on Christmas music even though I wasn’t bustling around the house. They pulled out the decorations and figured out where they wanted things to go, even if the garland placement is… let’s call it creative. They brought me cookies they baked themselves, which tasted faintly like burned sugar and victory. In fact, I found myself enjoying these little scenes in a way I never have, because for once, I’m not the one running around trying to orchestrate the moment. I’m just… watching it. Living in it.

This is the December where I can’t do everything, so I’m learning to do the most important things: laugh, sit with my kid, listen, and be present, even if I’m horizontal.

It’s strange to say, but this forced slowness is giving me something I didn’t know I needed. I’m noticing the glow of the tree lights at 2 a.m. because I’m actually still awake long enough to see them. I’m hearing my family’s conversations from the couch. I’m letting go of the “perfect Christmas” I always chase and seeing the perfectly good one happening right in front of me.

Maybe that’s what this December will be known for in our family, not the events we skipped, but the moments we finally had time to notice.

So yes, this year looks different. It’s quieter, smaller, and way less chaotic. There’s something beautiful in the way a holiday can reshape itself when you have no choice but to sit still.

Maybe it turns out December doesn’t need me to do everything after all. Maybe it just needed me to be here.