The Holidaze - increased stresss brought on by the holiday season - Brief Article

Ebony, Nov, 2000 by Laura Randolph Lancaster

THE holidays are upon us and, if you are a Black woman over 30, chances are you know what that means. The stress monster is all around us. Everywhere I go--to the mall, to the post office, even the hairdresser--I can see it's ugly shadow; I can sense it's gloomy presence.

I can see it in the worried faces, the wan features of my Sisters. It's in our furrowed brows, our pinched smiles. In the I-don't-know-how-I'm-going-to-make-it -through-the-next-minute-let-alone-the-next-month look we shoot each other from across the counter, the aisle, the room.

The reason for our anxiety is both old and familiar. Everyone in our lives--our children, our employer, our man is competing for our time and attention, and they know all the best ways to get it. Add the plethora of additional pressures that come with the holidays--the cooking, the baking, the candlestick making--and it's obvious why the season makes so few of us feel overjoyed and so many of us feel overburdened.

According to Dr. Georgia Witkin, Ph.D., author of The Female Stress Syndrome, the No. 1 stressor for women today is "the difference between the amount of time we think we need to get everything done and the amount of time we actually have to do it all."

Combine this perceived time deficit with the Superwoman Syndrome and it's no wonder that, for so many Sisters, what should be the joy of the holidays turns into the journey through the holidaze.

In fact, though this month marks the beginning of the season of giving thanks, counting blessings and spreading cheer, the truth is far too few of us know how to relax and enjoy it. Actually, it's worse than that. For many Black women, just thinking about the two months of shopping, spending, cooking, decorating--all the things many of us believe are required to make the holidays merry and bright--leaves us feeling frazzled not dazzled, harried not merry, stressed not blessed.

"If I didn't have kids, I'd spend November through January in Barbados with a very large bottle of aspirin, suntan lotion and rum," says a sharp, strong Sister I know.

"The holidays make me want to hibernate, not celebrate," agrees another Sister-friend whose only change to that statement would be to substitute Bermuda for Barbados.

These women are not alone. In fact, if my conversations with Black women across the country are any indication, they are the norm, not the exception.

This is all wrong. I mean, the whole point of the season of mirth and merriment is, well, mirth and merriment. It's about spending time with friends and family, not spending time in the mall. It's about giving thanks, not things, counting blessings nor burdens, worshipping not worrying. It's about remembering how many things we have to be grateful for, not how many people we have to do things for.

The holiday season should be love-intensive, not labor-intensive; exhilarating, not exhausting; fulfilling, not frustrating. It should lift our spirits--not deplete them. One thing is for certain, however, and two things are for sure: Unless we take active, concrete steps to change the program, relief from the holidaze is about as likely as a fat man in a red suit showing up at our door on Christmas morning with dinner, diamonds, and a Denzel knockoff.

All kidding aside, if things are to change, within us must be an insistence, an unshakable resolve, that whatever we do for the holidays, whatever cooking, traveling, shopping, gift-giving, all of it must be toward one end--giving and receiving thanks and joy.

Believe it or not, there's a painless way to achieve this goal. All we have to do, my Sisters, is start slow. Set the ground rules. Starting this year, pick a date after which you will do nothing--zip, zero, zilch--but savor the season. A date after which you won't do anything--nada --but get deep down into its gladness, not its madness. I'm talking about a non-negotiable date after which you won't lift a hand, no make that a single finger, to prepare for the marathon of festivities and celebrations. A date after which you won't do anything that contains even the smallest hassle quotient to organize or arrange for them.

And when I say anything, I mean anything. If, say, by December 1st you haven't found it, bought it, wrapped it, baked it, packed it, mailed it, decorated or ordered it, too bad. It won't get bought, wrapped, baked, packed, mailed, decorated or ordered. No exceptions. No kidding.

It's such a simple act. But I believe the doing of it can transform the madness of the holidaze into the magic of the holidays.