The Longest Night of the Year
How developing your emotional language can help you navigate a “not so perfect” holiday season.
By Deborah Hopkins, MS ALC and IASIS Certified Provider
The longest night of the year, December 21st, will be here in just a few days. The winter solstice marks the time when we, in the northern hemisphere, are tilted furthest from the sun. The shortest day gives way to the longest night. This in turn, ushers in the fresh lengthening of days where darkness will gradually recede and light will fill more of our hours.
This year, at my little Anglican church, we will gather for a special service.
In the midst of the holiday season where we are surrounded by twinkling lights and encouragements to be cheerful, the longest night of the year offers an opportunity to pause and make space for the tender emotions so many of us carry.
While many during the holiday season express feeling joyful and festive, for others, this time of year shines a spotlight on suffering.
Songs tell us, “It's the most wonderful time of the year!”, but for many, this season is one of struggle and heartache. Maybe the increased expectation to be joyful puts our heaviness in sharp contrast. Perhaps this holiday highlights who will be absent or how our family doesn't look or feel like a Norman Rockwell painting. Whether loneliness or loss, tough family dynamics or financial stress are a part of your landscape, it’s worth acknowledging, this time of year comes with its own weight.
And what are we to do with it?
For starters, it's important to acknowledge our feelings. We can expend enormous amounts of energy trying to push unpleasant emotions away. But what happens when we make space to turn toward ourselves with gentleness and curiosity? As it turns out, it's an important part of the process and creating space to honestly assess our inner world can help us know what we need to navigate it well.
In Brene’ Brown’s Atlas of the Heart, she discusses “emotional granularity, ”a term coined by Dr. Susan David who says,
“Learning to label emotions with a more nuanced vocabulary can be absolutely transformative.”
If we don’t have a sufficient emotional vocabulary, it is difficult to communicate our needs and to get the support that we need from others.
Those who are able to distinguish between a range of various emotions “do much, much better at managing the ups and downs of ordinary existence than those who see everything in black and white.”
In fact, research shows that the process of labeling emotional experience is related to greater emotion regulation and psychosocial well-being.
I recognize it can be daunting to even think about creating space for reflection, especially at this time of year when time feels tighter than ever. I also know in my own story, I often keep moving because I'm afraid to pause. Getting quiet can feel like an engraved invitation to painful emotions, and where is the joy in that?
And yet, something interesting happens when we take time to get quiet and curious.
Finding a way to identify and articulate what we are feeling helps us know what we need.
I often encourage clients to journal. There is something about putting pen to paper (or fingers to keys) that helps untangle feelings that are knotted up inside. Sometimes simply acknowledging what you are feeling can help relieve pressure. Other times, you might need to give yourself permission to feel the weight, to ache, to weep. And sometimes you need someone else to bear witness.
Megan Devine says,
“To feel truly comforted by someone, you need to feel heard in your pain. You need the reality of your loss reflected back to you – not diminished, not diluted. It seems counterintuitive, but true comfort in grief is in acknowledging the pain, not in trying to make it go away.”
And so, we will gather on December 21st for a special service. In this sacred time, we will hold space for the grief and tender emotions we all carry. We will turn toward ourselves and each other with honesty and compassion. And while we pause in this season of anticipation, we will make space to honor our lament. On this darkest night, we will draw near to the LIght of the World whose nearness is our good. We will embrace the truth from Psalm 34:18
“The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit”.
We will light candles, and pray prayers, and we will share space with people who understand. In this service, we will get to experience one of the most important realities: we are not alone.
As we gather, we will whisper one of my favorite collects for Compline, from the Book of Common Prayer,
“Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suering, pity the aicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love’s sake. Amen”.
If you are heavy hearted or struggling this holiday season and need a safe place to acknowledge it, come join the rest of us by pressing in, creating space, journaling, and reaching out to a trusted friend or counselor —we are to “bear with” one another, mourn and rejoice together. And remember the One who is near to the brokenhearted and catches every tear we cry. He’s with you right now.
Making space for these emotions won't magically change your reality, but it will help you adjust your burden and understand a little better how to carry it. The healing is in the feeling!