The Push-Pull of Christmas: A tug of war as old as time, betwixt Magic and the Mental Load

There’s a strange tension that arrives every December, often creeping in quietly as the chocolate calendars spill open and the elf does his merry dance around the house.

I think firstly, as Mums, we feel ‘the push’.  The full calendar. The end-of-year deadlines. The school events, festive outings, catch-up festive coffees, performances, parties and plans. The internal pressure to “get everything done” at work before switching off, the need to ‘clear the decks’ and smash all those projects before end of year, to squeeze in one more meeting, more email, more coffee, more outing, more event - even though your life to-do list has suddenly multiplied overnight.

And underneath it all,  there’s the pull. To switch off. Quiet evenings in front of the fire. Catching up on the trash TV only you truly love and understand (shout out to all my Real Housewives of Cheshire fans). Pyjamas. Slow mornings. Easy dinner times. A body that’s tired from a year of doing and is silently screaming for rest. A nervous system that wants dim lights, hot drinks and nothing in the diary for at least a week.

This year I’ve felt it keenly as we near the end of term - even craving the lockdown vibes of yore - where we had no option but just to stay home. Because although I actually really do enjoy the social side of festive ‘we must catch up before the new year!’,  my energy and capacity - overloaded with all the other life/kids/work stuff - has other plans. 

This is the push-pull effect of Christmas - and like a cheap cracker you’re struggling to pull with an elderly relative in front of the turkey - it’s frustrating,  exhausting and leaves you desperately wanting to escape to the sofa with the Christmas Motherland Special. 

And while this part of you longs to slow down, another part feels driven to speed up - to make it magical, meaningful, memorable and just perfect. To create the Christmas your family will remember. To deliver joy, warmth and wonder, even when you’re running on gingerbread lattes and celebrations for breakfast.

The result? A familiar paradox. You desperately want to be present… but you’re too busy rushing on to the next thing. You want to slow down and savour it… but you’re already thinking three steps ahead. You want calm and stillness… but your body is stuck in go-ho-ho mode.

And so December becomes a month where we’re physically present, but mentally elsewhere - managing, planning, anticipating, smoothing, holding it all together.

What’s interesting is that this urge to brighten the darkness is nothing new. Long before Christmas became the season of excess we know today, winter was something people felt deeply. The days were shorter, the cold was harsher, life slowed naturally because it had to, and so this desire to hibernate we still experience (normally when overstimulated at a festive garden centre with Jingle Bells playing on loop) is a long held urge built deep within us, from time when the Cadbury's  selection box was a mere futuristic fantasy. 

In medieval times, homes and castles were decorated with evergreen boughs - symbols of life enduring through darkness. Fires were lit not just for warmth, but for comfort and light. Kissing boughs were hung from ceilings, adorned with seasonal fruits and mistletoe was believed to bring good luck and fertility. Even the Christmas tree has its roots in pagan midwinter festivals and tree worship - a symbol of hope, renewal and continuity.

These traditions weren’t about spectacle - they were purely about survival, about bringing light to the darkest time of year and creating warmth, meaning and connection when the world outside felt cold and uncertain. People decorated because winter was hard - not to compete, perform or impress, but to soften the edges of darkness.

Now even though I love me a little history lesson, I’m not suggesting that we go back to the minimal roots of our ancestors and simply see the rest of December out by candlelight (although totally, you do you). But I am really noticing the similarities in the intention behind what we do now, and what was done before. 

If you’re reading this, I know you care deeply about the decorations in your house, the presents wrapped under the tree, the stuffed stockings, the little touches you’re adding in because you know that it will make that one special person’s face light up on Christmas morning,  the tables heaving with delicious food you’re currently planning, buying, cooking and all the lists that you’re most definitely checking it twice. 

I also know the reason you’re doing it all: for your children, your families, to recreate what you loved about Christmas, to rewrite and right the Christmases perhaps you never had, to bring the magic and sparkle, to create the joy, to share with the people you love the most.

The intention behind this all is still to create warmth, meaning and connection when the world outside feels cold and uncertain. We are really not that different from those celebrating Christmas centuries ago. 

A Push-Pull Pause - how to refocus what really matters this Christmas 

Somewhere along the way, the intention of this season has got a little muffled - under the mounds of fairy lights, piles of presents, social media slide show of matching PJs and the loud exclamations of everyone doing their own christmas just that little bit bigger, better and more beautiful than the next.

Christmas has gone into overdrive.

More to buy. More to attend. More to curate. More to prove - leaving less and less space to pause, stop, ease off the pressure and give in to that inner pull. So the very thing we’re craving - warmth, connection, presence - feels totally out of reach. 

Because dear reader, it’s a harsh truth universally acknowledged that unfortunately you can’t enjoy the magic if you’re overwhelmed. The  joy won’t land when your nervous system is on high alert and you can’t be present when your mind is juggling hundreds of invisible tasks.

This is where the push-pull becomes a pain.

You want to slow down, but you feel like you can’t. So instead, you push through.  You tick things off, tell yourself you’ll rest after Christmas. And by the time the day arrives, you’re exhausted  - watching the magic happen around you, rather than truly being immersed in it yourself. It leaves you feeling flat, disappointed and resentful, thinking ‘well who’s bringing the magic for me?!’

So let’s pause here for a moment - not to add another thing to your list, but to gently shift where you put yourself on yours. 

The 5 Minutes → 5% More Check-In

Rather than asking, “How can I do this all?”, try asking:

“What would give me 5% more of what I need today - in just 5 minutes?”

Not perfection. Not a completely calm December. Not everything going exactly to plan.  Just 5% more today.

That might look like:

• Five minutes sitting in silence before the house wakes up

• A cup of tea drunk slowly, sat down, on an actual chair

• Stepping outside for fresh air between errands

• Turning  on the fairy lights to just sit and enjoy the glow rather than scrolling

  
  

These small shifts really do matter. What your system doesn’t need are the grand gestures (that feel like yet another chore..) - it just needs small, incremental signals of safety where you’re telling yourself ‘I matter too’. 

The Christmas Boundaries Mantra

If the push is feeling loud, come back to this simple rule of three:

1. Say NO to the stuff you simply don’t want to do:

Where are you saying yes out of guilt, expectation or habit? I.e. the extra school request, school drinks you feel obliged to go to and yes, even your kids asking for the millionth festive treat

2. Cancel or compromise - Does it have to be all of it? Could you arrive later, leave earlier, simplify the plan, or do it differently?

This week I’ve cancelled social plans with lovely friends asI know the migraine risk is too high pre xmas: not what I want but what I need

3. Cut corners - we’re strictly a movie after school whilst eating fish finger sandwiches household this week.  What would happen if “good enough” was more than enough?

   
   

This isn’t about cancelling Christmas, this isabout choosing it  intentionally, and crucially on your terms. 

Because the lights were never meant to dazzle you into exhaustion. They were meant to soothe and soften the darkness, the traditions were never meant to drain you - they were meant to add some fun, joy, magic -for YOU as much as everyone else.

So if you can do one thing for the rest of the season, can you resist the push-pull of Christmas this year? Can you choose ease over complexity, stepping back over social overload, the bare minimum over the best Christmas anyone has ever had?!

And just to tie this all up in a beautifully manicured gold bow, please remember rest isn’t a reward for finishing everything. It’s a basic  requirement for experiencing anything at all. The original purpose of winter traditions was to help people endure the darkness together -  to create pockets of light, lean into the quietness and the pull of less. Perhaps this year, the most radical choice you can make is to let Christmas be the lightest, quietest, easiest version it can be that will deliver YOU all the comfort and joy you so deserve and need. 

Let’s have YOURself a merry little Christmas this year - some magic for the Mums. 

Merry Christmas! From your Village Coach xx