This Is a Low-Volume Holiday Season

So, this has honestly been one of those years where it's been harder than average to get into the holiday spirit. And it's apparently not just us.

We noticed it the other night while walking a misdelivered package to the correct house after dinner. By now, there’s usually at least one house that’s gone pretty close to full Griswold, a few more that have thrown a few tasteful white lights around, and one wildcard situation involving inflatable lawn decor that looks like it regrets its own existence.

This year, though? Hardly anything. Our immediate next-door neighbor has his front yard decorated really nicely, as usual. There might have been a porch light here or a wreath there elsewhere on our street. Mostly darkness, though.

Prior to that, I thought this whole feeling was just me being "tired" and borderline burnt out again, thanks to a year that's been more challenging in heavier ways than I'd have liked. But the longer I paid attention, the more it became clear that the whole neighborhood seemed to have collectively agreed to keep things low-key. Again.

So, I suppose it's officially one of those low-volume years. The holiday channel is still broadcasting and apparently on most of the time. Someone just turned the volume dial all the way down.

And it is what it is. Some years, it just be that way.

Some Years Want Different Things From Us

Like most people, I grew up with the cultural assumption that December should look and feel a certain way. Cheer should be summoned on schedule, and nostalgia should arrive on cue. Sparkle should, of course, be deployed generously, preferably with cinnamon. And however you celebrated, you damn well better be having the time of your life.

But time has a way of teaching you that not every year calls for the same level of participation in that sort of thing.

Some years invite celebration and excess. Others prefer reinvention. And then there are years like this one that seem to demand things remain as still as possible.

We Don't Put Our Lights Up in the Front

Last year, we bought and put up Christmas decorations for the first time in a while, and we did it again this year. Just not in any way people driving by would notice.

We put everything up in the backyard instead of the front, so you'd really only see the lights if you’re already here. Because they're there for us, not the neighbors or anyone driving down the street, which seems to be a fitting metaphor for our lives more and more every year now.

Most evenings, after dinner, we'll still split our pot of tea at our bistro table. The lights are on, and the air has that clean winter edge that makes everything feel sharper and quieter at the same time. The fire pit we've gotten so much use out of over the summer this year waits patiently for another night.

Quiet, secret festivity at its finest, I suppose. Our specialty.

The Real Weight Is Expectation

When people talk about struggling during the holidays, most seem to default to sadness as the explanation, and I'd definitely say that's been a factor this year, thanks to life in Dumptruck's America. But sometimes the heavier thing is expectation, the sense that you’re supposed to feel something specific by a certain date.

No matter what.

I've had a year that required more endurance, recalibration, and sustained attention to practical realities than usual, so being told to suddenly switch into full celebration mode feels oddly jarring and obligatory. I wasn't really ready for it this year, and I'm really not feeling very festive as a result.

So, I've been focusing on what I can and discarding what I don't have the bandwidth for, more or less. That kind of focus doesn’t photograph well, but it still counts well enough.

For Anyone Else in a Similar Place

So, if you’re also moving through the holidays without much enthusiasm this year, here are a few ways to think about it that don’t require forcing anything:

• You can participate quietly. You can keep things small, subtle, and inward-facing without opting out entirely. Showing up softly is still showing up.
• Low effort can still be meaningful. One candle lit intentionally can be more grounding than a house full of decorations put up out of sheer obligation. Meaning isn’t proportional to effort.
• Traditions aren't contracts. You’re not required to recreate past versions of the holidays, especially if they no longer fit who you are or what your life looks like now. Traditions are meant to serve people, not the other way around.
• "Neutral" is a valid emotional state. If you’re more steady than joyful this year, that’s fine. Neutrality can actually be pretty restorative.

The Holidays Are More Patient Than We Think

Contrary to how society (and every single TV commercial) can make it feel sometimes, the holidays themselves don’t actually demand anything. They're not going to disappear if you simply meet them wherever you are. The holiday narcs aren't going to revoke your membership for opting out of some of the showier stuff.

In my experience, the season usually knocks once, waits a minute, and then sits down if invited.

So, if this isn’t the year you throw the door open, that’s okay. (It really has been one of those years.) For now, it feels like enough to let the lights glow in the back, enjoy our tea, and just let the season be what it wants to be this year.

Because some years call for fireworks. Others are perfectly good to go with a single warm corner and a little space to breathe. This one feels like the second.