In the Land of Triggers (Merry Christmasš)
Finding the gift wrapped in holiday drama.
If Iām being honest, I donāt always look forward to the holidays. I donāt know about your family, but in mine the holidays can be treacherous. They just wonāt pass without a little bit of drama. Sometimes it gets loud, but more often people withdraw and avoid whatever triggered a storm of uncomfortable emotions. But the tension lingers.
Christmas is the perfect setup: a few days loaded with expectations, rituals that have lost their meaning, everything drenched in nostalgia. Every December I trek from New York to Frankfurt, take the train to Bremen to see my grandparents, followed by a second trip all the way down South to my hometown TĆ¼bingen. Christmas itself is split between my fatherās and motherās homes. And just like everybody else, I carry an invisible backpack stuffed with my lifeās drama. On the one hand, I look forward to a rare moment with the people most dear to me. On the other hand, I know that Iām walking into a minefield of triggers, ready to pass the torch of holiday trauma from one generation to the next.
Ok, maybe Iām getting a little dramatic. But by noon of the 24th, Iām already desperate for long walks among the trees, meditation, a workout, really anything to get personal space, release tension, and reflect on triggers. A few hours later, Iām back at the table. We play cards, eat PlƤtzchen, laugh, and ponder why the holidays turn out to be so complicated.
What strange magic happens once weāre around family? Weāre confronted with our past, we get a glimpse of our future, we dive into our deepest wells of conflicting emotions. Love, gratitude, and the desire to be seen, heard, and appreciated all co-exist with frustration, anger, sadness, shame. We start shifting between new and old identities, we slip back into roles and behaviors we thought weād long abandoned. The ghosts of childhood wounds haunt the dinner table.
I think we trigger each by our very nature, not on purpose (ok, sometimes on purpose). Just like an insult only touches us if we spot a kernel of truth in it, family drama is intense because we see aspects of ourselves reflected in the other. Family ārubs your noseā in the struggles of your life by showing you its iterations. If my mother struggles to let go of things, I see in this my own challenges, my own stacks of books, my own clutching and clasping.
Family is a mirror. Family throws a spotlight on what weād rather avoid.
But hereās the kicker. If you do it right, family drama is a portal.
Let me give you a few examples of what Iāve run into over the past week. Your topics may be very different, but you get the point.
Fear of old age, death, and what it means to have dignity once body and mind inevitably deteriorate (what is a dignified death? what if weāre not granted one?)
The resistance to letting go, both of items and the intangible (memories, past injuries, people/relationships, habits)
Courage ā to be yourself, to change, to start something new ā and how we cheat the world when we hold back out of fear and donāt share our skills, knowledge, talents, time, and creativity
The yearning to have children and how it conflicts with many other desires and goals
Fear, death, love, desire, envy, healthy and unhealthy romance, addiction, generational trauma ā itās often all there, in some shape or form. And for the holidays, it all comes together. And weāre not supposed to get a little emotional?
Hereās the little protocol Iāve been working with when things get :
Step one: change state. Find some personal space, calm down the nervous system, get out of fight-or-flight mode. Tricky since thereās often little time and limited options. What helps me: walks, exercise, nature, calming breathing exercises (4-7-8, box breath, humming bee breath), meditation, naps/yoga nidra, music, talking to friends.
Step two: accept, unpack, reflect. Start by accepting and feeling into whatever came up. Peel back the layers of the onion. Why did this bother me? When exactly did it come up? What was said or done and what happened next ā what memory or thought came up? Where in your body did you feel it?
Keep excavating and asking why. Look for the emotion behind the emotion. Maybe there is anger behind the numbness, and sadness behind the anger, and fear behind the sadness. The first emotion may just be a trailhead to lead you to what youāre avoiding. What helps me: being in motion/walking, conversation, journaling, meditation. Once youāre calm and have more clarity, itās probably time to rejoin the others.
Step three: rejoin, take action. The most difficult one. Now what? What is this situation trying to teach me? Does this call for a conversation now or is it better to be patient, let things settle? Am I supposed to change or let it go? Is this something I need to tackle by myself or something to resolve together?
The gift of Christmas
Christmas Day started with a low boil, escalated into yelling followed by weeping, and, finally, hugs. It turned out to be a magical moment of truth and connection. Working through drama allowed us to be seen, to share our deep wounds and fears.
Iām not going to sugarcoat it: this was uncomfortable and exhausting. It was work. But it unveiled the greatest gift we could have asked for: deeper connection and love for each other.
Holidays offer an opportunity to learn about ourselves and our family and rediscover quirks and imperfections. Thereās no guarantee that we leave with the gift of love, growth, and understanding. If we face our triggers, if we muster the courage to share, if we listen with patience, if we draw on our compassion, well, thereās a chance we can turn the drama and pain into something precious. Itās a chance worth taking.
My mother called Christmas a celebration of light and noted that for the light to break through the clouds, the storm needs to pass. Thatās certainly true for Christmas in my family.
Hereās to forging stronger bonds in the fires of discomfort, pain, shame, and fear.
Hereās to forgiveness, sharing, and acceptance.
Hereās to the gift of love.
Reach over and hug the people closest to you. Let them trigger you while they still can.
Merry Christmas.š
Frederik
Thanks for sharing, thoroughly enjoyed reading it!
Excellent reflections and insights. Families push your buttons because they installed them.
Letting everything slide is the peaceful way to go. Everyone is ageing - except the kids who are growing into themselves, which is awesome to watch.