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Judging by the slew of advertising messages around the holidays, we are all just a big family gathering away from a Norman Rockwell painting.
I don’t know about you guys, but that’s not necessarily always my experience, especially in our current fraught environment. For a lot of families tensions may be running high at the moment, and not everyone may be looking forward to the enforced togetherness of a holiday meal.
Even among those we love the most (or at least the longest)—even in the best of times—there are likely to be plenty of bumps in the road: stress from towering to-do lists and juggling responsibilities; comments that inadvertently (or advertently) create friction; tensions that arise when you throw a group of disparate individuals into concentrated togetherness; plus the relentless pressure for things to be perfect that all that advertising can create. (There’s one treacly commercial running incessantly right now during one of our favorite programs that pretty much makes me want to gag.)
I think this illusory standard of perfect harmony and togetherness can be so much of what might make the holiday feel stressful. It creates a false expectation in which anything less than that storybook picture feels dysfunctional and disappointing.
This year may be an especially hard one for many.
I wanted to write a funny, ironic guide to surviving the holidays by analyzing the people and dynamics around your table and using what you learn for your storytelling. And this is true, actually—it’s a wonderful petri dish of human behavior and dynamics that can help you more deeply understand character, human interaction and reaction, tension, backstory, subtext, and inner life (the latter your own as you take a deep breath and simply notice what’s going on inside you amid the fray), and how to convey it in your stories.
It’s also true that moving from a reactive to an objective, analytical mindset is good not only for your storytelling, but your psyche.
But I’m not really feeling the funny, tongue-in-cheek vibe at the moment. This may not feel like an ordinary holiday for many. You might be in a state of mind that may make it hard to gather and celebrate this year. The emotions we’re experiencing may not jell with what we’re expected to feel—what we’d like to feel—this time of year.
So here’s what I’ll say instead: In story, when things seem challenging or bleak or soul-crushing, that’s when the hero is needed.
The hero isn’t a perfect white knight who never feels fear or anger or darker emotions. They’re simply the ones who can feel those things and yet also rise above them, look beyond them to see the bigger picture. Yes, evil must be fought…but most of the people we love are not the evil we are battling.
They are complicated and flawed—just like we are. They are capable of goodness and kindness and great acts of love. And they are also capable of falling under the sway of the darker side of human nature common to all of us (it’s right there in the name…human nature).
They are products of the influences that shape them—just like we are. And if the input they’re exposed to is flawed or false or carefully curated to show only one narrow slice of the world, then that’s the reality under which they operate.
To me, artists are the heroes because often they have the vision to see beyond their own frame of reference to the bigger picture: What is the greater good, and how can we help attain it?
Writers are the ones with the insight and understanding to see people and the world in all their many complex Technicolor shades, not in simplistic, binary black-and-white. They understand that the storybook image that’s peddled to us around the holidays isn’t reality—or at least not the full reality. It’s just marketing. Life is far more nuanced and complex than those simplistic messages.
Storytellers know that even in the blackest moment, when all may seem lost, it’s just a stage in the larger story—when the heroes may be tested before rising up stronger and beating back the darkness.
There are battles to fight against the forces of evil, the sources of it.
And there are bridges to be built to unite the people against those forces. To help those who may be caught in its sway to break free by showing them a better way.
Where better to start than with the people we love?
And if we’re not ready yet to try to build bridges, that’s okay too. In every story the hero may be knocked down or begin to doubt or fall victim to their own darker side, and has to tap out for a little bit.
We can’t always access our better angels. But we can at least refrain from adding to the strife. Be kind to yourselves. Be kind to others, as kind as you can. If you can’t muster kindness, try for neutral.
Take a breath, take a step back, and see the whole story. This isn’t the end; it’s just a chapter.
On this holiday of gratitude I’m grateful still for so much: The people (and pets) I love. This lovely world and the chance to wake up in it every day and experience it…and see if I can try to help make it a little better.
I’m so grateful for the stories and storytellers and art that help me remember all that’s possible, all that we are capable of.
I’m grateful for each of you who show up here week after week and are part of a community that means a great deal to me. Thank you.
Happy Thanksgiving, heroes.
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28 Comments. Leave new
Thank you for an uplifting message. Have a great Thanksgiving!
Thanks, Mary–you too!
Thank you, Tiffany. Just what I needed. You described pretty much my emotions. Trying to rise above and not always being able to. My better and darker angels at odds. And you said that was okay. That was the best part to hear. Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.
And to you, Kelly. All we can do is keep trying to edge things toward the better, right?
“This isn’t the end. It’s just a chapter.” I’ll be hanging onto that and not just HOPING it’s true, but fighting/writing to MAKE it true. Thank you, and Happy Thanksgiving.
We have to, don’t we…? The alternative is a bleakness I don’t want to give over to. Happy holiday, Kimberly.
— this was so great, not only the insight into literary characters, but into ours as writers. i’m looking forward to thinking “be a hero” during any tough moment that might surface.
The reminder helps me take a breath and remember to respond, not react. Happy Thanksgiving, LuLu!
Thank you for this message! Loved every word. Stay well and safe this weekend 🙏
Thank you, Savy–you too!
Thank you for these wise words! I hope you have a lovely thanksgiving with those you care about, both two-and four-legged.
Thanks, Leslie! I wish you the same. <3
Thank you for this beautiful and heartfelt message. What I need to hear now. Have a wonderful weekend with your nearest and dearest.
Thanks, Suzanne–and thanks for always lighting up my day with your comments. Happy holiday to you and yours as well.
Well said, Tiffany. Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family.
Thank you, Barb–thanks for being here; I’m always lifted by your comments. Happy Thanksgiving!
Well said. I’m holding onto those thoughts and hopes.
Thanks, Sharon–I am too. <3
Thank you, Tiffany, for your hard felt, inspiring words that stand out in the maze of life today – and for being a hero.
Thank you, Mary–hope your holidays are peaceful and offer some joy!
Beautiful
Thank you, thank you, thank you
Thanks, my friend. Happy Thanksgiving.
“Take a breath, take a step back, and see the whole story. This isn’t the end; it’s just a chapter.” Wow! I needed this. Thank you so much for effectively communicating the push-pull that happens on so many levels this time of year, especially this year. I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving. So grateful for you.
Thank you, Emily! I’m so glad it hit a chord. It’s a weird time for a lot of us…. Hope the rest of your holidays are peaceful and allow for some joy.
Thanks for writing this post, Tiffany. Obviously, there are a lot of people who feel the same way right now. During a difficult time, your words are encouraging. “It’s not the end, it’s a just a chapter,” though it may be a difficult chapter to get through. But if we can rise above it, maybe we can be our own hero.
That’s what I’m hoping, and reminding myself of when my fortitude flags (and it does sometimes). It helps to share these thoughts with others and see how many of us are wrangling similar issues right now. Thanks for your comment.
I needed this today. I’m at the hospital watching my husband in a diabetic coma. I wasn’t home when he needed me. I booked all my appointments for the Wednesday before thanksgiving because we WERE going out of town. I have been feeling like the villain of my own story. I’m never gone that much. This was a one-off vs. I should have known. I love how you say writers can find the hope in the blackest moments. I’m a writer—I better try harder. Thanks for your words.
Oh, Nancy, I’m so sorry about your husband–and for how guilt is adding to your pain. Your situation seems plenty hard enough without that. I hope you’re able to find some peace and respite from that “second arrow,” and that your husband recovers soon and smoothly. I’m keeping you both in my thoughts.