Grumpy Bears Unite

I feel like a grumpy, old bear this holiday season.  I don’t want to put my energy into decking halls.  I avoid shopping as much as possible.  I have no idea what to get anybody, and the muzak playing everywhere makes me want to poke holes in my ear drums.

Poor dazed bear could be longing to return to her dark, quiet box in the attic.

I’m not really grumpy.  And I’m certainly not sad or depressed.  It’s just that I’m not into the hoopla of the holidays much anymore.  In winter, I like to stay home, play mandolin and ukulele, write poetry and prose, and laugh at anything that pokes fun at commercialism, holiday treacle, or extreme reverence.  This article on spiders who decorate their webs with ornaments is an example of the kind of holiday humor I relish (for more general species-related humor, see this post).

Part of me has been feeling a bit guilty about all this.

A post by Havi Brooks — “Rituals, Traditions, and Zombies,” — made me realize I was not alone in wrestling with these feelings of being at odds with the holiday mandate. She writes:

…If I were going to invent a holiday…It would be one that gave you permission to hide.

That’s exactly what I want: permission to hide.  Actually, I want even more (I always do).  I want to celebrate hiding.  I’d rather call it hibernation — intentional hibernation — where we’re not sleeping but taking advantage of darkness and cold to turn inward, to indulge and nurture creativity, to enrich our quirky inner lives.

Hibernating and becoming grumpy at too much falderol is what bears do. Nothing to feel guilty about.