The Direct Experience of December
In this time of year infused with so many of the traditions celebrated throughout my life as a Catholic, I think about the most important lesson learned through my practice of Zen: Life is lived through direct experience.
Yes, if we come to Christmas as a sacred time we’re asked to draw on faith. The birth of the savior, the foundations of the church, the prayers of advent. But the reason the joy of this season endures for so many beyond the faithful is the practice of traditions in-person and as a community that makes the holidays special. In December we do things, and we do them together.
My practice of meditation, learned through Zen and reinforced by a time spent following the divine office, emphasizes the importance of pointed focus on the present, on what we are doing, and reveals the tremendous capacity of our minds to pull us very far away from the present moment. While many will attempt to develop this skill through seated meditation, I find bringing my full focus onto the act of work, especially when work involves both the mind and the body, most fruitfully benefits my mental health.
In this type of meditation, in this relentless focus on our present activity, we can combine movement, ritual, and works for others and with others to keep us rooted against the self-defeating flights of mind that fuel episodes of depression, mania and anxiety.
No time gives us quite the opportunity to live this way as December. Christmas is a time of year when we really do things, and we do them together.
We make meals and we feast; we sing carols; we shop and wrap presents; we trim the tree; we raise a toast to those who live and those who have passed; we go to church; we re-consider the year and plan for the next one.
All of these wonderful rituals and practices of the holidays involve activity, and all are done in community with other people. To each of them we can bring our full focus and live in the present at the very same time we practice time-honored traditions. In joy we can step away from the maelstrom of thoughts that tend to consume us and into direct experiences that reveal that, for many of us, right here right now is not only OK, it can be a sacred time.
Christmas endures because of its many rituals. We like to repeat pleasant things and we like to do this as a group. We need a purpose larger than ourselves while at the same time we find a purpose that is clear and tangible. In very big ways and in very small ways, with God, with family and friends, and with work and sharing, ‘tis the season.
Last year, because of the pandemic, Christmas and its celebrations became very difficult. This year, as the pandemic drags on and intensifies, we’re still on edge – hoping desperately to hurry up and get it all in as things begin to shut down again.
There’s a dangerous lesson in a lost Christmas. The lesson we can do it alone. As we shop at home online, reduce our interpersonal lives down to thumbnails on a screen, communicate through impersonal and incendiary social media, avoid gathering closely in groups, and resist touching each other, we risk losing the benefits of shared rituals filled with direct experiences that make the holidays endure and make Christmas the most wonderful time of the year. The idea that in all the opportunities for sharing found in Christmas we are sharing a virus is crushing. The loss of community rituals born of physical activity joined with religious purpose that colors the season will surely make us sick.
The idea of Christmas is one of creation while living, and celebrating, entirely in the moment. When we pray, we pray. When we eat and drink, we eat and drink. When we sing, we sing. Without the liberating joy of direct experiences we are lost.
My hope is that Christmas not become a time of isolation and inactivity. It’s about birth and possibility. It’s about tangible tasks setting us up for a promising future. As we focus on small things like carving a pork roast for those around the table or wrapping a present for a loved one, we learn to approach big issues with confidence and without conjecture. This type of activity is crucial for our mental health.
So Merry Christmas. May you find a way to do something with focus and do it with others. This is not only a holy act, it is one that makes us fully human.
I write about direct experience and the way to achieve it through meditation, movement and meaningful work in my upcoming book, Practicing Mental Illness, from Changemakers Publishing. Please pre-order a copy here.