For the most people around me, in my family and otherwise, Christmas is over. (Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition). I say ‘for most’ because in my religious tradition, Christmas is still going on. But the gift-giving and visiting aspect is over, save for my brother-in-law being down. The major rush being over is what makes me thankful.
This isn’t to say that I don’t enjoy the holidays (or, ‘silly season’ as I’ve heard it referred to). I adore Christmas. However, as an introvert, I’d rather not spend gobs of time around other people. Give me small bits of time with small groups. Anything larger and longer and I start eyeing the exits.
There were some lovely high moments this past week. I cooked my first turkey, pictured above. My mother in law gave me a set of instructions but I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of going to sleep while a turkey sweltered in high heat overnight. Call me paranoid but I very much wanted to keep a closer eye on it. Therefore, I followed a recipe that called for brining and then cooking it for a few hours, whilst basting every 45 minutes. The end result was lovely.
I also had the joy of seeing a niece and nephew and give them gifts. For me, giving gifts is a lot of fun because it makes others happy. I enjoy doing that. (Though, as a writer I also enjoy ripping people’s hearts out and handing them back.)
But the one event that made me want to just sell everything and go live in a cabin in the woods was having Sunday dinner at my home. It was great preparing for it. However, after the first hour, I was ready for everyone to go home. Being an introvert at Christmas is not fun.
It’s not often that my personality type gets in the way. I’ve ordered my life in such a way that I spend more time in silence than in a noisy crowd, and keep a very small group of friends, with whom I normally meet on a one-on-one basis. The joy of Christmas comes in the silence of contemplation and joy of watching others. It’s in stargazing with a cup of hot cocoa and watching favorite movies. It’s not in the parties or the loud laughter, but in love shared in a small group of family and friends. That is the kind of Christmas I prefer.