L.E.S.S.

It seems almost all the people around me are experiencing holiday stress.  Me included.  What happened to those carefree childhood years when the biggest worry was if it would be a white Christmas or how quickly the end of vacation would come?   As we grow older and the responsibilities grow larger, so do the expectations and often the self-imposed challenges.  This year my close family has decided to go back to a ‘stockings-only’ philosophy and I embrace that whole-heartedly.

Even with little stocking stuffers I can show the people I love that I’m thinking of them specifically and can individualize each stocking appropriately.  It doesn’t take a huge drain on my bank account to tell and show people I love them.  I remember one childhood Christmas when only hand-made gifts were allowed.  I don’t want to go that far (I tried one year in a former life and was insanely busy for months before Christmas), but I do support the less is more philosophy.  

I’m not up on all of my psychology research, but I do know that scientists in Britain and Israel have studied the genetic disposition for happiness and have independently concluded that about 50% of your happiness is genetically determined.  And even when something horrible happens or something great happens, we tend to find our own baseline happiness again on average in about 2 years.  I find these figures oddly comforting…   mostly because I think my baseline happy is not too bad.    I also find it comforting that I can control the other 50% and that I can choose to make efforts to improve my contentedness.

I have to admit, I just read The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, and while I think she is completely an over-achiever and has crazy amounts of unrealistic energy, she also has some very good points.   I am constantly in search of a happier me, too.  Not that I’m über unhappy, mind you, because I’m not, but I certainly could use some tweaking.    

As I move into the holiday season with all of its concomitant craziness, it will be good to be mindful of how sometimes less is more and that the nows are just as important as the impending thens.  The smell of cookies wafts from the kitchen.  Music is playing.  Lights are twinkling. Snow is threatening.  Red wine is nosing from my glass.  I think I can at least catch glimpses of the center I’ve been seeking… now if only I can hang onto that through the next couple of weeks I’ll be doing something.