How to Celebrate as a Minimalist
What do our celebrations reveal?
How we chose to mark important events such as holidays, milestones and celebrations, says a lot about us. How we don’t celebrate says a lot as well. In my childhood, we celebrated such things as are common in the USA. Birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween, and the like. I knew things were important because they the occasion was marked with a few common ingredients: special food, gifts, and family gathered. That’s how I learned to recognize big events as a child. Sometimes we would dress nice as well, like Christmas church service, but later around the tree we were all in our old pajamas and that was very special too. It seems cliché to say, but its true that I remember very few gifts or even meals. I remember rather, being squished in the car with the people I adored on a snowy, cold night. I remember the smell of peppermint and pine, anticipating singing by candlelight with the people I loved. I remember laughing hysterically and thinking how clever and fun my siblings were. I remember pushing each other to be the first to walk up to the scary house on Halloween and feeling safe, even though we acted scared.
These are the things I want to bring to others in my life.
Empty boxes
What I do remember of unwrapping gifts is, similar to what I feel today unwrapping gifts. As a child (and until quite recently) unwrapping gifts was a short sense of excitement, surprise, and occasionally disappointment. Followed by a sense of emptiness after taking stock and finding the things that seemed so important and promising a few days ago, now felt like just more things… absorbed into the mass of already accumulated “stuff” in my home. The only difference is now, I also feel profoundly grateful that the people I love have taken time to find something they thought would delight, benefit or inspire me. How kind of them to spend their time, thoughts or money on me. Wow, that is so humbling. Maybe you remember special feelings from occasions like this too? That feeling is so much sweeter then the gift.
Underlying beliefs
As a child, I understood gift giving as one of the few ways to show love on holidays, if not the most important. And I understood that more expensive gifts somehow meant more. Or so I thought. I knew that the cards we made didn’t have monetary value, so I viewed them as kind of “failure gifts.” My parents didn’t teach us that at all, but I’d never seen these items, such as handmade cards, valued in any other context but as a gift form child to parent, so I assumed it wasn’t “real” if adults didn’t do it too. I wonder if I had felt differently if I had seen adults I respected and loved (outside my parents) giving each other homemade cards
I remember being profoundly confused as a child about my mum. She never asked for much of ANYTHING on occasions when it was expected to give to her gifts. It boggled my child’s mind that on a day where she could get so much stuff she didn’t use it! Now as an adult I can see that any “gifts” from your children are often paid for by you, and not really “free” like they are as a child. But at the time I could name 5 things (at least) on the drop of the hat that I’d love to have, and wish lists on birthdays or Christmas were staggeringly long and expensive. Most often she’d ask for nothing, but if we felt we had to get her something she would ask for some kind of tree, shrub or flowers, planted somewhere near the house. I remember the Sugar Maple trees she asked for. The trees, yes, but more specifically I remember everyone working together to dig the hole, move the 10+ foot tree together, stand it straight, put the soil back and water it, spraying each other as well. It was an afternoon cut out to do something together. It wasn’t forced. We just wanted to be together, doing something side by side. Every time I looked at that lovely Sugar Maple after, I recalled that afternoon, refreshed by the memory. Anytime I see any Sugar Maple really… it was never about the tree anyway.
Turning Point
I recount these memories for two reasons. First, because its beautiful to relive them. Second, because I want to pull the goodness out, the things that made those moments great, and make that the ingredients for celebrating as an adult. As I’d made an effort to live with a more minimalist mindset and removed a lot of things from my life, I have had so much more space and time. That space, physically and mentally, has lead me to consider how I want to live. Now that there’s so much more space, I consider how I want to rebuild and fill it. The things I want to add. No, I don’t mean more stuff. Does that make sense? Like when you see a big empty space you cant help but imagine what it could be? Could have? Could do? That’s how I feel about my life now. Not forced to add, but able to do so as little or as much and exactly what I want, unhindered by price, situation or availability. Because the things I want to add aren’t really things.
I want to curate the way I celebrate. I want to create every opportunity for the important things to be given center stage. What I want to be the main event is: intentional time with family. So I’ve begun to curate celebrations that make that the main event. The most anticipated and valued part of the celebration.
How to change
address reality next. Spend time on this step, it matters
1. Be excited about “it” Figure our what that special ingredient is and verbalize the value. Tell others that it is the most important part and what you look forward to most. For me, “it” is the time with family. I tell everyone that what I really look forward most of all is being together.
2. Plan everything around “it” It’s the main event. Give it the prime time, center stage. Giving “things” used to be the main event for me- the one ingredient that made it a real celebration. Now its the time set aside to be together. I have other things we do together to celebrate on special occasions, but I try to make sure the climax is the time together.
3. Make “it” special. Intentional, remember? Spend time, thought and effort on it. Put things in perspective. Giving things are a way to express love, but not the only way. Giving words, time, money, skills, and opportunities are too. Don’t make “things” the only thing to give. So don’t make “things”, the only thing you ask for either.
I am imperfect and still figuring out how to make this real in my life. Please share ways that you and your family have done this because I would LOVE to learn more about how to do this practically. We can do this.