Why Celebrations Mean So Much... and How to Keep Them Simple

Throughout history, families and cultures have taken part in shared celebrations.  Some are religious, some are seasonal, some are all about life passages and transitions.

Celebrations join us together.  They create bonds and shared memories.  For families, celebrations create a family "lore."  The things you do together, the way you behave together, your special names for each other, inside jokes, favorite movie quotes, the shorthand you use with each other – all of these are bonding experiences.  They're what make your family your family, not like anyone else's.  The way your family chooses to celebrate birthdays, losing a tooth, good report cards, and all the holidays year-round becomes part of who you are.  That doesn't mean things can never change, but some aspects will become "traditional," expected, and anticipated.

How to simplify celebrations while making them memorable

Remember, this is all about the traditions, the "family lore."  If you have one, two, or three events that you always focus on, they become the simple basics to build your holiday around.

For example, at Thanksgiving, my kids always made pretty place cards for the family feast (even if it was at Grammie's house), and I encouraged them to get creative about this.  I always prepared a few special dishes that were my mother's recipes.  And we began the meal by going around the table, letting each person say one thing they appreciated about the person on their left.  It might be the way that person had helped them this year, or their contagious laugh, or the fact that they always showed up to cheer them on when they were in the spotlight.

Those three simple traditions – place cards, special foods, and giving thanks and appreciation to each other – set the day apart and made it memorable.  None of them are hard or expensive.

What it comes down to for making any celebration memorable is a bit of time, attention, and creativity.

What makes a memory?

We're in the thick of holiday season right now, and there's not a single lifestyle magazine that doesn't headline the Best Holiday Ever.  But "perfect holiday" fantasies can ruin the holidays.

• They make you busy, anxious, competitive, and dissatisfied.

• They make you go into debt for a few minutes of present-opening frenzy.

• While you're busy planning, shopping, baking, decorating, dressing up and posing for a holiday photo, going to the post office, accepting one more invitation, braving the airport, and more... you use up all the time and energy you might spend just being with the people you love, connecting with them, and appreciating them.

Be honest, now – what do you remember about holidays of your past?  We think we need to wow people, give them something they've never seen, generate surprise and astonishment.  I guess that's why not only holiday celebrations but weddings and little kids' birthday parties keep getting bigger and more expensive.

But research shows that memories are formed when we're paying attention (not when we're multi-tasking or rushing) and when our emotions are engaged.  When we stop, look, listen, smell, feel, and taste an experience, we're more likely to remember it.  When we know we're excited, happy, and blessed (or even shocked, sad, and bereft), we're more likely to remember.

What I remember, and what my grown children say they remember, is the fun activities we did together.  We all remember the Christmas we skipped presents and took a trip to the northern California coast instead.  We'll never forget enjoying delicious locally-made ice cream cones while overlooking Mendocino Beach, all because of the generosity of a shop owner who opened his doors on Christmas morning ad gave free cones to all passers-by.  The blue ocean, fresh wind, pale winter sunshine, our cozy hoodies, and the cold ice cream all added to the memory.

The kids remember the treasure hunts I made for them, with silly poems, riddles, and challenges that sent them all over the house to find their birthday or Christmas gifts.  Maybe there weren't very many presents, but finding them was so fun that it made the whole experience memorable.

Performance vs. service

One Christmas I was recovering from pneumonia and had no energy for anything.  For the first time, we had to celebrate the holiday very simply.  My husband and children decorated the tree with one box of ornaments (the others stayed in storage), and I just watched.  The result wasn't perfect, but the kids were proud and happy with what they had done.

Jon isn't a baker, so the Christmas cookies that year (which were usually a big, complex production) were Toll House chocolate chip cookie dough with candied cherries on top.  They were easy enough for the kids to join in making them, and everything looked pretty and tasted great.

I had bought a couple of gifts before I got sick, but most of the gifts were things Jon bought at the drug store – coloring books and crayons, bottles of bubbles, toy cars, decks of cards, pretty stickers, and Play Doh, with restaurant and movie gift cards for the grownups.  It was plenty, and what made it fun was that we sat around and played with the kids after everything was opened.

Earlier holidays were ruled by my perfectionism and my desire for "more" and "new."  And probably by my pride.  Christmas became a kind of performance.  But was that the message I wanted to send?

For me and my family, Jesus was the stated "reason for the season."  But did all of my long to-do lists and perfectly wrapped packages steal my time and attention away from that?  What did my kids see me doing and hear me talking about?  What was the real focus?

Here's an idea:  Instead of making lists of gifts, make lists of activities.  These can include fun occasions, of course, but be sure to include a lot of things you can do for others.  Even young children can do plenty of things for others.  They can:

• smile
• wish people Merry Christmas
• pick up garbage
• hold the door
• do a sibling's chores for them
• draw a picture or make a card
• give a hug
• let someone else go first
• pray for someone who's sick
• choose canned goods and help drop them off at the food bank
• give a compliment....

I'll bet you and your children can come up with a lot more.

When we decide to serve rather than perform, the meaning of the holiday comes into focus.

Celebrations join us together, and you really don't have to do more or buy more to make them mean more.  In fact, by slowing down, taking part, and savoring fewer items and events, you might make more memories.

P.S.  Back in August I was interviewed by Lisa Valentine Clark for her podcast The Lisa Show, and that episode dropped earlier this month.  If you'd like to listen in as I talk with Lisa and wedding planner Amanda Everson about simplifying celebrations for less stress and more joy, go here.

If you found this post useful, I know you'll love my book A Minimalist Holiday.*  It will give you practical strategies that help you focus on the things that bring you most joy as you learn to say no to the rest.  With chapters detailing an easy pre-Christmas clear out, a sure-fire holiday diet, and tips on how to give without buying, there's something here for everyone.  

Look for A Minimalist Holiday in hardcover, paperback, and as an e-book.  

And don't forget my children's book, Fairhaven Christmas Eve.  It's a tale for young and old that will warm your heart, inspire your imagination, and remind you of all the joys of the season.

* This blog is reader-supported, with no ads!  If you purchase through my links, I may earn a small commission.