We almost didn’t get a Christmas tree this year. For two very simple reasons: we are both exhausted and broke. Pretty food pictures and colorful blogging aside, this is our Lyme reality. All the optimism in the world doesn’t change the fact that healing serious illness is tough. Tougher than most people could ever imagine. It takes it’s toll, and it’s certainly taken its toll on us.
Increasingly, one of the hardest parts of treating my Chronic Lyme Disease is the mounting medical costs. My husband Sean (AKA Wonderhubs) and I put everything thing we can towards my out of pocket expenses and every month we still go over. So we knew a Christmas tree wasn’t in the budget. And I thought I was going to be okay with that. After all, my new protocols have been helping with my fatigue. That’s merry enough right? Right??
Because my medical costs are so extensive (often more than a thousand dollars a month) we routinely have to make tough choices that really aren’t much of choice. Not once have we discussed whether we should we go out for sashimi or call in my prescription. No, we stay in and I ring the pharmacy. But no Christmas tree? Gee…
Times are tight for a lot of people, and the Holiday season is a wonderful opportunity to cultivate compassion for those who have less. Charities receive the highest proportions of donation in December for just that reason. Yet, for many people this season is also a mad rush to buy “just the right gift” for a long list of family and friends. The shopping experience can be exhilarating, yes, but also exhaustive both physically and financial.
“For those reasons, we’ve opted to opt out. Inspired by the Buy Nothing movement that sprung up in response to the shop-insanity of Black Friday, we’ve practiced a “buy nothing” Christmas for the last several years. The idea first came to me after my last full blown Christmas in which I was left sick, stressed, and too drained to even enjoy the merriment. The following year my health completely crashed and we saw the need to create a new holiday tradition, so we did.
We continue to practice a minimalist Christmas just for the peace of it. Each year we buy each other one or two small gifts and a tree. Easy as that. True, we’re both too tired to partake in the culturally mandated consumer craziness, and it’s also true we don’t have the funds for family gift giving. But ultimately, we celebrate Christmas this way because we’ve come to love it. We send cards, and on the rare year when we have extra to give we make a donation to the local food bank.
Tips for a Minimalist Christmas:
- Instead of making lists, make memories.
- Instead of buying presents, be present.
- Instead of sending gifts, send peace.
- Instead of hanging lights, be the light.
When we first adopted it, we weren’t sure how well our proposed (and slightly radical) idea was going to go over, but it’s actually been great. We made a deal with our family and friends: we won’t being getting you anything, and in return you can take us off your list too. It turns out that by not participating in gifting we are actually giving a gift: the gift of a little less buying, rushing, stressing, and worrying for our loved ones. Sean and Kat? Already taken care of, phew.
Of course this doesn’t mean we won’t accept gifts if given. Every year Sean’s parents send us a gift or a check and we are always incredibly grateful for it. Because our finances revolve around my medical costs, throughout the year there’s very little left over for recreation, home improvements and the like. For us, living with Lyme means learning to live within a very lean budget.
Money stress is never pleasant, but there’s one particular way in which our financial situation gnaws at my heart. Because such a large percentage of our resources goes towards healing, my husband rarely gets to spend any of his income on himself. And this grieves me. My husband makes good money working for a good company, yet in a way it’s money he never sees. Which is why my in-laws’ thoughtful generosity is so important come Christmas time.
For two years my wonderful, selfless husband has wanted an Xbox One, and for two years we haven’t been able to scrape together the extra money to get him one. This year I have good reason to believe that the large box shipped up from California by my in-laws contains none other than a brand new, bona fide Xbox One game console. And I am so glad, so grateful, because my husband works really hard, both at his job and at home with my care.
I may need costly medicines, but what I’ve wanted is for my husband to be able to play Halo 5.
On Tuesday, three nights before Christmas, I came home from my acupressure appointment, so worn I could barely stay upright. I hung up my bag, kicked off my boots, and stumbled into the kitchen to start some tea. As the heated water began to condense into tiny bubbles, my husband came in. After a hug he informed me he’d just finished up checking our finances. No surprise, we were way over on “medical” again. Rolling up his sleeves to start in on the dishes he said softly, “Well… we’ve actually spent twice what we put aside for healing this month”
In that instance something small and powerful gave loose inside me. Leaning against the countertop for support, I broke down crying. I had been hoping against hope that there would be a little extra this month. I hadn’t given up on the idea of a Christmas tree. And yet there it was. We were looking at more debt. So I cried, held by my husband, as my water boiled unnoticed. I had wanted not to care. But I did. Up until that moment I hadn’t realized just how much.
The next day Sean was extra late coming home, and I was extra wiped. It’d been a long day of treatments and detox protocols and I’d had a hard week with heavy Herxing* and very little energy left over for anything else. Christmas was in two days and I still hadn’t written a single card, or set out a single decoration. I had simply been too tired.
(*Note: “Herxing” is short for the Herxheimer Reaction, which describes the process in which infectious pathogens release toxins as they die-off making you feel even worse.)
I was finishing up my afternoon meditation session in the bedroom when Sean arrived home. Over the pulsing of binaural beats in my ear buds I heard him come in. My intention for my practice had been to cultivate an open heart, yet my heart still felt weighed down and cautiously closed against grief. As I put away my acupressure mat, pillows and blanket I took a deep breath and reminded myself: we are blessed.
Opening the bedroom door to greet Sean the first thing I noticed was the smell. Something smelled like pine. Fresh and green, wintery and wonderful. And then I saw it. Leaned up against the corner in the living room. A small tree. Our Christmas tree. Sean had bused over an hour with it, and transferred twice in order to also pick up a new strand of lights. This time the tears were different. This time there was joy behind them and I felt my heart swing wide open.
By waiting until the last moment, my Wonderhubs had been able to get a remarkably marked down tree for a mere $15. And it’s the most beautifully perfect tree ever sold at a substation discount. As Sean set up our little tree I watched, wrapped up for warmth against the chills in my healing body, my grounding wrist band snug on my forearm, the UV air filter humming along with the Christmas carols. Finally I felt it: it’s really Christmas. It may be influenced by Lyme, but it’s still ours, and it’s still wonderful.
Of course our Lymie Christmas isn’t really about the tree, or even the financial hardships of healing a disabling disease. It’s about staying strong, breaking down, embracing new traditions, and most importantly, staying grateful. Because when we focus on the abundance in our lives, we find that we receive exactly what we need.
This season we’re wishing you abundance, peace, joy, and always: wellness. Merry Christmas + Happy Holidays everyone!
Can you relate to my share? Have you also found a need to scale back during the holiday season in order to honor physical or financial limitations? I’d love to hear how you celebrate a Healing Holiday, so let’s talk in the comments!
We’re wishing you wellness! May you eat well, live well, be well! Xx Kat + Sean
“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.” ~ Mathews 7:7-8