Sometimes my family's beliefs, or lack thereof, can present interesting dilemmas. Especially so at this time of year, when the whole of our immediate world seems swept up in the holiday season. We gather with friends and family, participate in the festivities, and when someone wishes us a "Merry Christmas," we smile and wink, offering a heartfelt response that mirrors the sentiment in such a way that no questions are asked. Assimilation at it's finest. Over the years we have learned that swimming downstream is much simpler than up. We consciously try to avoid rocking anyone's boat, knowing that a reply contrary to the expected will be met with raised brow, and tedious questions. This of course often devolves into confrontation, hurt feelings, and a general dampening of spirits in the vicinity of said conversation. So we pretend, because there really is no good reason to point out that our beliefs are different than those around us. There is a time, and a place in which such discussions are appropriate, and when a Pagan is sipping eggnog with a Christmas tree over their shoulder, and Christmas music playing in the background, at someone else's house; is not that time.
I suppose what frustrates me the most is that by now, all of my friends and loved ones know full well that I do not subscribe to Christian beliefs or customs. They know that I prefer to place the emphasis on the Winter Solstice, and this is what I celebrate. And yet, despite my continuous participation in their festivities, despite my showing interest and offering respect for their beliefs, no one ever shows any interest in my own. Each year I receive cards wishing a Merry Christmas, and I can always count on dad to send me a card that is so overtly Christian, I'm certain a black light, and a quick DNA test, would reveal the card had been printed in Christ's own blood. And of the thousands of times that I have replied "Merry Christmas," I cannot remember a single instance in which my "Happy Solstice" was rewarded with the appropriate equivalent.
After so many years of conforming, one begins to seriously question the nature of one's relationship with those who refuse to make even the slightest gesture to similarly respect that which is important to you. All that is required is for you to tell me once that you celebrate Channukah, or any other alternative to the Western "norm," and that will be the last time I inadvertently impose my celebration terminology upon you. I will from that point onward make an effort to wish you well based on your beliefs, and that which you hold true, because to do otherwise would show a complete disrespect, and total lack of caring one way or another for who you are and what you believe in. And so, every time someone I have known my entire adult life, that know I don't celebrate Christmas, that know I am not Christian, refuses to even remotely acknowledge what is important to me, after I have put forth so much effort, for so many years, to respect everyone else... well, the feeling is not good.
In fact, Judith, my mother-in-law, (bless her heart) is the only person who has ever stepped outside her own finite reality, and acknowledged mine for being what it is. So I ask myself, where have I gone wrong? What should I have done differently so that friends and family would want to take the time to understand me? Would it even matter if there was a way? Would the resulting sentiment be genuine, or coerced? I really don't know. Like you, I am a social creature. I want to belong, I want to feel loved, and I want to feel like the people in my life care enough to at least try and understand who I am and what I am about. I would like very much to feel as if there was more than one person in my extended family who ever took the time to truly listen, and accept me for who I really am. Yet, time has lowered my expectations.
Conversely, the longer I consider this, the more it occurs to me that the majority of those who blanket others with the standard "Merry Christmas," are not true Christians, and do not celebrate Christmas for any meaningful reason beyond the fact that Christmas equals a day off from work, gift giving, and a reason to spend time with family. When they say "Merry Christmas" the sentiment is little more than empty words, learned, rehearsed, repeated throughout the years. And it occurs to me that the reason these people do not understand the value, or relative importance behind my holiday expression, is because their own has no real value. Why should they take the time to honor me, when they do not even honor themselves? Why should someone take the time to really get to know me, when they have spent their entire life avoiding knowing them self? And so the problem blossoms into many others.
Perhaps the real difficulty that I experience with the holiday season is that this time of year offers an opportunity for people to show us the stuff they are really made of, and threadbare seems to be the new pink.