(re)Kindling the Festive Spirit

I’ve never been the kind of person who was obsessed with the festive period. Nope, I’m not lying to you. Yes, I know I’m weird. I just didn’t understand the hype. Truth be told, I’ve never felt particularly drawn to the festive traditions of Christmas, nor New Years for that matter.

In fact, during this festive time, I used to transition into the loathsome Grinch or the callous Mr. Scrooge - always feeling bitter and ill-tempered at the thought of “Santa Claus”, all manner of Christmas decorations, festive ornaments, merry tunes and carols that unravel themselves throughout the course of December. If I even caught a faint whiff of it in the air, my eyes instinctively rolled in their sockets, my brows furrowed in contempt and a grumpy visage took its form upon my face. 

“Oh come on, where’s your Christmas spirit?” some have said to me in the past. Truth be told, it was non-existent for a very long time. 

Ever since I was a child, I didn’t understand the point of Yuletide festivities and why everyone made such a fuss about it. I grew up in a Muslim household, which meant that Christmas or even the idea of New Years was never really a big deal in our family. In the Islamic calendar, our festive traditions came in the guise of the holy month of Ramadan and the two Eids (Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha), but my family also celebrated birthdays generously (most Muslim households don’t even acknowledge birthday traditions, by the way). While the former respective festivities obviously have religious significance deeply-rooted within them, I often felt that the emphasis (for me) was always on unity: spending time with the family, travelling to see relatives, participating in prayers at the local mosque with the community, and ultimately being in each other’s presence as we ate lavish feasts and enjoyed the momentous occasion. There were times when we received the occasional gift or some money from our relatives, but that wasn’t the primary focus at all. 

Now when it comes to Christmas traditions, from an outsider’s perspective I never really saw the sense of unity that I witnessed time and again in our own festive traditions. Instead, as a child, whenever the festive break came around, I used to associate it with playing video games for two straight weeks.

Maybe my former eight-year-old self’s opinion was a tad naive… however, throughout my childhood to adolescence, my experience with the festive season could always be summed up entirely in one phrase: a neurotic overdose of commercialism. 

During every December (or as far back as early November) as a child, the advent period was suddenly bombarded with Xmas consumerist propaganda. Everywhere your eyes looked and ears heard, there was some endorsement that demanded your attention: a thirty-second commercial for the “perfect gift” ideas for your loved ones, supermarket aisles stocked with ravishing meals for the luxurious feast on the big day, a merry old Christmas tune on the radio to get you into the festive spirit, Santa’s little village populating shopping outlets, among other things. They all promoted the “ideal family setting” for Christmas. Yet it almost always felt superficial. For instance, in my entire life I‘ve never seen an advert promoting Chanel No. 5/PS5/latest iPhone as a suitable gift to give a loved one for Eid. The message seemed to imply that your Christmas won’t be as special if you didn’t have this extravagant gift for “brother/sister/so-and-so’s wife/brother-in-law/niece and nephew/grandparents... ”, and that humongous pine tree occupying half of the room and those glittering bobbles and dazzling tinsel, and those cute decorations over there… as if the living room had to vomit splashes of green, red, gold and silver, suffering from a bout of “explosive-diarrhea-fairy-lights” to suddenly dazzle the eyes into a hysterical fit. It all felt like it was about showcasing the look - a spectacle -  rather than a family reunion.

I guess what bothered me most about the entire festive period was how people celebrated this season. At the time, a lot of it seemed like contrived nonsense to me - there never seemed to be much focus on being charitable nor a sense of community spirit. Instead, everything commercially endorsed was romanticised as if it were the prayer to all your human needs and wishes. There are such great expectations held for such a simple holiday, as if a merry Christmas and a happy start to the new year will bring us joy. As if we can refresh and cleanse out all the tragic, unfortunate things that have happened to us within a year by orchestrating this perfect momentous occasion. Sure, sometimes we need a distraction and revel in moments of bliss, even if they are masterfully devised through our own means. However, the problem is we put too much meaning into it and it lets us down.

In my opinion, the main issue is the way Christmas traditions have evolved over time. While there were traditional roots in gift-giving and family gatherings, charity and community, they seem lost amidst the stream of marketing and advertising ploys nowadays. I’m pretty sure Santa Claus was never an ambassador for Coca-Cola, driving through Christmas Eve in his truck to spread the festive cheer. From this point of view, it is clear to see why the modern version of Christmas has been handled poorly: there’s less emphasis on spending time with loved ones and more pressure on getting every single detail perfect for the family occasion. 

This desire to have everything perfect has superseded the traditional values of the festive season. So are you beginning to see why I’ve never been keen on it?

Of course, it didn’t help that throughout primary and high school, I was unapologetically indoctrinated to the “Christmas spirit”. Suddenly, throughout December the school curriculum played the role of the “fun  parent” who wanted to fit in and be cool with the kids, yet still be modestly respectable. 

I vividly remember each December day in primary school being roughly the same routine that bled into one another like a nauseating festive rendition of Groundhog Day. Christmas tunes like Winter Wonderland and Rocking Around the Christmas Tree blaring in the background from registration in the morning through to each different period, till the clock struck half past three. In some classes, there was the alluring promise of confectionery treats from the teacher’s advent calendar - usually they picked off names from the register in A-Z fashion or they simply awarded it as a merit for best behaviour/work effort that day.  Sprinkled in-between the final weeks of term were countless festive movies, class dinners, and sometimes even party games if we behaved “well enough”. 

(Un)Surprisingly, high school very much remained consistent in terms of the “festive experience” - only this time, there was the dreaded addition of Secret Santa - a daunting exposé where we were obliged to get something small for a member of the class/friend in a group, that roughly translated to: “What is the least amount of money I can spend on a gift without offending someone?”

Such fun. 

However, much to my surprise during this turbulent period of high school life, my “festive awakening” slowly crept out of the shadows around the same time. 

This bizarre occurrence just so happened because my best friend throughout school celebrated Christmas ardently, even though he came from a Muslim household as well. I never understood why this had a grave influence on me, but in hindsight I believe it was the way he celebrated with his sisters and mum that finally piqued my interest in the festive holidays. In his household, one could easily pick up the sense of unity, love and charity that one would expect around this time. Their Christmas celebrations were deeply rooted and firmly balanced by their own unique family traditions; they never did anything too extravagantly in terms of ornaments or decorations, yet somehow they still celebrated with such vivid richness.  I remember the times when I went around to his house and marvelled at the quaint little Christmas ornaments nestled on the lawn and tinsel parading over the banisters in the house, which also trailed throughout the halls and living room. Or how they handled simple gift exchanges with a quaint silver faux pine tree tucked in the corner and some ornately wrapped gifts underneath. It never felt contrived, nor did it feel forced, it simply was a minimalistic approach to the festivities. From my perspective, they deeply understood the importance of such a holiday: a celebrated family gathering devoted to care and love (I know how sappy it sounds, but it is true).

Up to that point, I only ever witnessed the façade of contemporary Christmas festivities and shenanigans. This was the first moment when I eventually recognised that same sense of family unity that is deeply tied into our household’s festive traditions sprinkled throughout the year. 

The lingering effect of the festive spirit began to manifest itself into my cold-blooded heart. In later years of high school, when we had an even bigger circle of close friends, I got more eagerly involved with simple Christmas celebrations such as gift-giving that I formerly once dreaded. I was beginning to come around to this whole festive business.

Who knew that one could slowly learn to nurture and even cherish things they once found repulsive? 

Likewise with food aversions, Christmas time was always something that made me shudder, even revolt at its ghastly commercialised sight. Yet when I graduated from high school and came to university, the festive traditions moulded into a shape and form that now appealed to me. 

It didn’t happen all at once, mind you. Sure, even in St. Andrews people still danced merrily to the sickeningly stale Fairytale of New York, decorations and ornaments were sprinkled heavily throughout accommodation halls and streets in a similar fashion to what I’ve witnessed in previous years. Yet, it was different because it wasn’t shovelled down my throat - there were no obligations for me to get involved in the festivities, nor was I subjected to participating in carol singing like my former primary school days (*shudder*).  

I was finally able to relax around others, no longer having to feign my apparent merry enthusiasm during December. In retrospect, because I had the freedom to not partake in festive traditions (unlike at school), I could now eventually understand another appealing aspect to Christmas - an opportunity to relax and unwind from the daily stresses of life. 

However, this lesson not only became apparent as I interacted with a diverse range of people and understood their own cultural beliefs and opinions, but also when I underwent the condemned venture of academic studies. 

When you find yourself surrounded by such people - those who heralded from different corners of the world and who now became immersed in the student population of St. Andrews - you learn to pay attention. Over those four years, I listened and observed and undoubtedly came to the conclusion… that most people here didn’t fervently celebrate the holidays either. To them, again, there was no apparent religious significance for most, others dabbled in festive affairs with casual commitment, while others found pride and joy in the holidays - especially those from overseas would eagerly anticipate the moment when they’d return home to their native country and be reunited with old friends and family once again.

When I think carefully about it, I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for my friends from overseas: as they dealt with insufferable isolation in a foreign country and everything once familiar and comforting is far from their reach. It certainly takes a toll on one’s health and wellbeing at times.  Although, the quaint atmosphere of the town helped them cope during this difficult stint spent studying abroad: during December from St. Andrews day, the Christmas spirit rose to tremendous festive heights in esoteric fashion: In the town centre, the winter lights switched on and the celebrations kicked off with Ceilidh band music, food stalls, warm beverages, and sometimes there was even white snow added as a finishing touch in this quaint magical town. It soon became a magical period to look forward to in St. Andrews. 

During the end of the first semester as exams came upon us, the festivities of Christmas became a welcome respite. It was an opportunity to think about joyous times ahead, when we were going through tortuous routines of studying, revising and bouts-of-hysterical-crying in between. The festive period was now especially important to me since the novelty of seasonal events, foods & beverages, and communal gatherings brought interim stress-relief during such a critical time. 

When you don’t know what the future holds for you in terms of success and failures, and the fate of your career path hangs precariously on certain benchmark grades; we often forget that the little things are necessary because they ground us and keep us mindful in the present moment. 

It is equally terrifying and concerning how easy it is for us to slip out of reality and think about the “What Ifs?” in our day-day lives, so the festive period is a marked occasion that is needed to help retain our sanity at times. During this time in my life, Christmas and New Years marked the end of the things to come - the eventuality that exams will conclude, that I’d be reunited with family and be back home, and finally that the year - whatever it brought into and out of my life - will also expire with each passing moment. 

Year after year, my callous attitude to Christmas wore off as I got involved in potluck dinners with friends and hosted hall dinners, secret santa gift exchanges, attended Christmas balls and I even travelled to local Christmas fairs & markets held around the Fife area and in Edinburgh. It was truly a magnificent period to be immersed in the community festive spirit. 

When I look back on those harrowing trials and tribulations, I often recall how it taught me to look forward to and appreciate the festive holidays of Christmas and New Years.

This time of the year now holds a tender place in my heart, since it means being away from close friends who I had the privilege of knowing while studying in St. Andrews.

As the years go by, I often think of all the wondrous, eclectic mix of people that I had the pleasure of meeting and befriending in my life from university back to my school days and I reflect on how much things have changed. I reflect on how much I have changed, and how even as we are all drifted far apart overseas, going our own separate ways in life, I still think about all of them. Every single one. I hope that wherever these people are, that they are doing well and celebrating the festivities with whomever currently presides in their lives. Often, when I get the opportunity, I use the festive period as an excuse to get in touch - to send a seasonal warm greeting around Christmas and New Year’s to the friends I’ve met all over the world. 

While I’ve grown to appreciate the festivities in my later years through various friendships, I still consider the biggest influence on my (re)kindled festive spirit to be my girlfriend. 

Over the past four years I’ve been dating someone who has been outrageously obsessed with the Christmas festivities. Ruxy is the kind of person who absolutely embodies anything and everything about this season; from the “cute” decorations, conventional traditions and all the whimsical, magical elements associated with the holiday - she exudes the merry season and basks in the glory of Christmas. 

At first, when we started dating several years ago, it was difficult to confess to her that I’m not into the whole “Christmas thing” (I know, I’m a jerk). How could I be so selfish and not celebrate something she clearly holds dear to her heart? However I thought it would be best to be blunt about it and “rip the bandaid off” so to speak, thinking that it would be no big deal. I was gravely mistaken. Not only did I hurt her by saying that I wanted nothing to do with Christmas festivities and everything associated with this holiday period, but I also astonishingly disappointed myself. 

I had come so far into understanding the festive season throughout my adolescence and early twenties, learning what the holiday period truly meant to different people, yet I seemed unwilling - hell, even resistant - to the possibility of change within me. Why shouldn’t I be merry or spread the festive cheer in my own way? What was I deeply afraid of that made me shudder at the thought of it all?

For my girlfriend, Christmas served an especially large role in her childhood since it was one of the rare occasions that her whole family came together and were merry in each other’s company. Ruxy was an only child who didn’t grow up around any relatives of similar age, which meant that in her small family the festivities naturally revolved around her growing up. Besides the religious significance of the holiday for her family, for her it had a significant impact on her childhood (like it did with many others) in a multitude of ways. It helped her understand and acknowledge the importance of family, celebrate cherished cultural traditions, and most of all, helped shape her into a charitable, warm-hearted individual who dearly tries her best to do more for the community around her. So, the holidays are incredibly important to her for this reason. The novelty decorations and gift-giving are an added bonus.

Yet, when she moved away to study abroad, it meant that the family celebrations changed drastically. She couldn’t always return home to see her family like she used to before. Naturally, even though I was still somewhat skeptical about the whole festive affair, I found myself stepping into the role of co-creator as we began devising our own mini-celebrations and traditions over Christmas. Funnily enough, I was drawn to it with childish eagerness. Over the years, I found myself grinning with pride and joy as we decorated our Christmas tree, secretly schemed and sought out little gifts for one another, watched cringeworthy festive movies, to even meticulous planned festive meals, snacks and treats to enjoy from Christmas Eve to New Year’s. 

In hindsight as I look back upon these three major influences that cultivated my festive spirit, I marvel at how much I have tempered towards the idea of Christmas and New Year’s traditions. Where there was once a callous, grumpy old sod who existed within 10-year-old me, there is now a malleable, sprightly soul in my 26-year-old self who wishes to revel in the festive cheer like many others. Along this festive journey I’ve witnessed the familiar sense of unity in deep-rooted family traditions. I’ve honoured the shared commonality of merriment, compassion and tranquility that everyone yearns for every December. I’ve cherished the love and gratitude that is celebrated in every single fantastically unique Christmas tradition that Ruxy and I have garnered over the past several years. 

However, this time of the year has also been a period of introspection for myself. A moment of remembrance, where I reflect and think about all of the individuals that have come into my life and those that I’ve known who have departed from this world. I always dedicate time commemorating the latter, raising a toast on New Year’s Eve as a reminder to celebrate them all, as well as to poignantly remember to appreciate all the little things in life we take for granted.

I think that is what the festive spirit is all about: appreciating everything we have been blessed with in life and taking the time to truly celebrate it all. 

It certainly felt that this was the true meaning to it all, especially during those times I spent the festive break with Ruxy’s family; where I got to revel in all their traditional cuisine and customs in Romania, and whenever they visited us in Scotland. Or last year which I warmly remember: when we had my family over at our flat for a proper Christmas evening, appreciating all the little moments of banter and feasting on a mix of multi-cultural food around a precariously-built glass table. All of these beloved blissful moments spending quality time with the ones we love, will always remain fondly in my memory forever. 

Despite all of these wondrous experiences that I’ve had the privilege to call my own, it is with great sadness that such moments can’t be replicated again this year. Life is unexpected in a myriad of wonderful, complicated, haphazard ways - 2020 is a shining example of that. With the pandemic still affecting day-day life and the looming threat of another lockdown starting this winter, it is extremely difficult to celebrate the festive season as we normally do. For obvious reasons, Ruxy and I cannot be reunited with our families for the festive season - and I can imagine many families are dealing with similar shared circumstances.

I wish it were easier to handle all of this. 

As I finish writing this on Christmas Eve, it leaves a bitter taste in the mouth, knowing that I can only view my family through a screen rather than be in their beloved company. Who would’ve thought that it would mean so much to me, a person who barely had any resemblance of festive spirit in him to begin with.

While it is still true that sometimes, we put too much meaning into the festive period and it lets us down, one cannot help but think how drastically different Christmas has become in 2020. One cannot help but wonder if it is an abysmal end to a dreadful year.

How will Christmas day be without being in the company of an extended family of relatives around our table? How will the New Year's Eve countdown be without the merry crowds gathering on the streets at midnight?

It certainly feels like some of the magic has been stripped away from this year. 

But that is not to say we can’t adapt to the changing times. Of course, a digital era of Christmas is not viable for the foreseeable future, though at least we actually have the technology to still connect with one another. In a time where the modern spectacle of Christmas has taken a backseat amidst turmoil, we, human beings, somehow always find a way to thrive. 

As we gather in our bubbles on Christmas day, perhaps we diminish any sort of expectations for the festive period. The truth is that Christmas can mean whatever we want. It doesn’t have to be about crafting a spectacle to be preserved in our memories, or be the topic of discussion among relatives and friends for years to come. It doesn’t have to be about making every little detail perfect or acquiring the perfect gift for those special and dear to us. It doesn’t have to be about lavish feasts, mass family gatherings, or any other stereotypical expectation that we have in our heads. 

We should relinquish all such expectations, regardless of how we spend this festive period. It honestly takes a lot of pressure and stress off, in a time where we’re all doing the best we can. Whether you’re choosing to spend the festive holiday alone or with company, celebrating it luxuriously, minimalistically or not at all, Christmas - in fact, the entire festive period - can mean whatever you need it to mean for you right now. Take comfort in the thought that these few days are yours to spend freely and to celebrate life in whatever way you wish. 

Although it has been a tremendously difficult and bewildering year, eventually it will also come to pass. Much like how I never thought I’d be giddy with festive cheer and merry with spirit, everything changes with time. So wherever you are, I hope you find a way to rekindle some hope and joy for the future days. 

Have a wonderful festive season and a Happy New Year.