I didn’t realize it at the time, but one of my quiet breakthroughs came when long-held holiday traditions changed.
What I thought I was grieving was a holiday. What I was actually learning was how meaning travels.
It isn’t bound to a date on the calendar. It lives in the rituals we carry forward. The walks.The calls.The showing up, again and again, even as the shape changes.
Some years are loud and full. Some are quiet and improvised. Some get postponed until February.
All of them count.
I’m curious, and I’d love to hear from you: What holiday tradition in your life has changed shape, and what has stayed at its core?