What Doesn’t Make It Into the Picture

Holiday Cheer Clear

There’s a calm beneath the noise I’ve been carrying for years — not because everything worked out (it hasn’t), but because something internal has stopped resisting what’s in front of me.

And this year what I see in front of me has been hard to ignore.

A dining room table adorned with garland, candles and "the good china". The turkey arriving golden and whole. Families laughing, glasses raised, children tearing into presents.

It’s a familiar picture. One we’ve been shown again and again. For some people, it’s real.

But as I observe it everywhere — on screens, in storefronts, in advertising — I feel the distance between the image and the rest of the world widen.

Groceries that cost more than rent used to be. People choosing between heat and food. Parents anxiously wondering how to make something appear under the tree. People who won’t be gathering because family isn’t safe, available, or alive anymore.

Their lives exist too.They just don’t make it into the holiday picture.

There was a time when I thought letting go meant collapse. Like easing my grip would erase me. Like if I stopped striving, everything would fall apart.

What I’m learning now is quieter than that.

It isn’t about giving up. It’s about stepping out of the performance — personal and collective. Releasing the belief that things need to look a certain way to be worthy or true.

Some seasons ask us to build. Others call us to listen.

This one is asking me to listen closely — to what’s real beneath the noise,

to what still has energy, and to what’s being lived unseen outside the frame.

There’s grief in that clarity. And relief. Both are allowed to exist.

I don’t need everything to make sense yet. I don’t need the full plan.

I just need to stay honest — with my body, with this moment, with the world as it is.

Breath by breath.