The Loneliness of Christmas
Christmas takes many shapes — some beautifully warm, others deeply painful. It can be a cozy hug, a home where we feel seen and welcomed, a table filled with connection and stories. Or it can feel colder than the weather outside, filled with glances that don’t truly see us and empty interactions — a long-standing loneliness reminding us of past disconnection.
This loneliness can manifest in different ways: the absence of loved ones, the crowded house where no one really knows us, the ache of missing family members who are no longer here, or the realization that the picture-perfect family ideal doesn’t match the reality.
Regardless of its form, when loneliness appears, rather than immediately seeking connection with others, we might first consider meeting ourselves where we are.
When we look inward and listen closely, loneliness can reveal profound messages. I don’t wish to romanticize it — I know how much it can hurt — but loneliness also holds valuable insights. It can signify disconnection, yet in feeling it, we connect to the shared humanity of this universal experience. Before rushing to numb it or fix it, try listening to it.
What does this loneliness tell you about yourself and the burdens you carry?
What does it reveal about others and the pain they bear?
What does it reveal about your needs during this time?
Listen, if you can, with curiosity. Let it guide you to its needs, and let your choices reflect those. In some ways, loneliness needs you as much as you need it. It calls for your attention and care — so you can learn how to find care in others — and reminds you of unmet relational needs that deserve your attention.
What kind of connections are you seeking? How can you nurture those connections?
What boundaries do you need to set with those around you to protect yourself during this time?
What do you need to feel safe and nourished?
Loneliness carries many meanings, and therefore many answers are possible. These answers may be found in people who truly see us, in places that feel like home, in music or poetry that resonates deeply, or even in the loving act of turning inward to simply listen to what’s happening inside.
The Year Is New, but the Emptiness Feels the Same
A new year arrives, bringing fresh expectations of a “new me” — smarter, fitter, healthier, more social. A better me.
We’re so eager to create a polished version of ourselves, to fill pages with resolutions and achievements for the year ahead, that we often fail to notice that this endless striving might be an attempt to fill a void. And so we fill life — with goals, accomplishments, purchases, trips, challenges — with noise.
It’s not that self-improvement is inherently wrong. The problem arises when this “path of growth” moves us away from who we are, and when our goals are shaped by external achievements rather than internal needs.
How often are these resolutions driven by societal expectations, by friends, colleagues, or parents? Or perhaps motivated by an inner critic or perfectionist voice? Or simply an unconscious desire to escape feelings of inadequacy?
We convince ourselves that we must always be “more,” even if it pulls us further away from our true selves. In doing so, we lose touch with our intuition, values, and authentic needs.
Once again, reconnecting with ourselves starts with looking inward and listening.
Where does this drive for more come from?
How will I feel if I don’t achieve these goals?
We can also learn to sit with emptiness, with the sense of insufficiency that arises when we feel we’re not achieving enough. By identifying these emotions, staying present with them, and understanding what they need from us, we might make choices that are truer to ourselves.
How long has this sense of insufficiency been part of my life?
What does it need from me?
Our emotions don’t need to control us, but they can guide us. When we learn to listen to them, we learn to intuit our next steps.
What makes me feel alive, energized, curious?
What brings me calm, presence, and nourishment?
How can my life create more space for these things?
Rarely do the answers we seek lie in more — more work, more projects, more training, more travel, more events. They often lie in the quality of our days and how those days nourish our personal, professional, and relational needs.
Christmas and New Year’s often bring emotionally challenging experiences — loneliness, emptiness, feelings of inadequacy. Unfortunately, as a society, we still treat emotions as nuisances, pains to be managed or avoided. So we develop various, often creative, ways to suppress them: complaining without understanding their purpose, ignoring the visceral sensations certain situations evoke, rationalizing our decisions, or blocking emotions with distractions.
We aren’t taught the art of listening to what happens within us or integrating the emotions that are fundamental to who we are.
Who would guess that the loneliness we feel during Christmas might hold the answers we need to build stronger relationships?
Who would suspect that the sense of insufficiency, of feeling like everyone else is doing more, contains a plea to be heard, understood, and embraced — so we no longer need to keep running on autopilot?
Feeling these emotions during celebratory times doesn’t mean we’re failing. Emotion is information. Emotion is intuition. Emotion is direction.
There’s no path to authenticity or freedom that doesn’t involve learning to integrate our emotions. On autopilot, our most genuine needs go unnoticed and unmet. And without knowing our true needs, we cannot be free.
Embrace life in ways that resonate deeply with you, and continue growing toward authenticity. As you move forward, let each step be taken with true freedom.