Sparking Joy

It’s the most wonderful time of the year.

How often have you heard these words? Probably quite a bit.

There’s a good reason for this. As the weather gets colder and the daylight gets shorter, a sense of wonder overcomes us.

It doesn’t matter which hardships we’ve faced, or what challenges still lie ahead. Almost by instinct, we are filled with bliss as the calendar reaches its nadir.

There are gifts to purchase, light displays to peruse, and loved ones to share the time with. Our hearts are full, and our gripes are forgotten.

At least that’s the way it’s traditionally been. But now, everything is different.

Or is it?


For many, the holiday season has long been the most miserable time of the year.

There can be a physiological explanation for this sense of misery. After all, the winter chill cuts to the bone, causing us to shiver in discomfort. And the lack of sunlight can drag down our mood — a condition known as Seasonal Affectiveness Disorder.

But there are other causes for the pall that many reckon with during this period.

One key cause is depression. This is a condition that has long been stigmatized in our society. And so, those afflicted with it feel compelled to suffer in silence.

Dealing with depression is challenging enough throughout the year. But in a time where marketers, media figures, neighbors, and our loved ones are all doubling down on happiness, those battling darker emotions often feel even more marginalized.

The choices are stark. Suffer silently in the shadows or put on a fake smile and join the revelry.

Neither is helpful for those facing an existential crisis.

So yes, it would seem that even the best of traditions — a time of the year when we spread kindness — has a dark side to it.

And these days, more of us are discovering this dark side. The worst health crisis of our lifetimes is like a slow-motion car wreck. The death tolls and economic hardship cast a long shadow that we can’t just turn away from once Frosty the Snowman starts showing up on TV.

Perhaps the most insidious part of this virus is the way it affects our social connections. Gathering together is a hallmark of our society. It’s how we find prosperity and fulfillment. It’s how we grow our influence and gain protection.

But with a lethal virus spreading like wildfire, such actions lead to outsize danger. And so, we avoid them at all costs.

Now, this is not to say all is lost. Technology has helped fill the gap, allowing us to socialize, seek entertainment, and shop in a virtual setting. But some societal aspects can’t be as seamlessly adjusted to a digital screen. And holiday traditions are prime among those.

Even as we reimagine those traditions for a world where the act of gathering in person is taboo, these measures ring hollow.

The most wonderful time of the year seems anything but.


Find what sparks joy.

It seems like a simple edict. But it can be mesmerizingly frustrating to pull off.

This is why Marie Kondo is such a popular figure in our society. Her ability to tap into the zeitgeist of sparking joy is not a trivial matter. Neither is her penchant for finding a productive outlet for this pursuit — decluttering our homes.

Marie Kondo helps give language to something we feel deeply but struggle to describe. She makes our lives better by making this treasured sensation relatable.

It’s an impressive feat. But not an unprecedented one.

For plenty of household names have cut their teeth at the root of joy.

Coca-Cola’s motto has long been Open Happiness. This branding is as effective as it is simple. (Think about it. Have you ever been miserable drinking a Coke?)

Meanwhile, Nike has helped people find a different kind of bliss. Matching style, athletic performance, and the tagline Just Do It, Nike has inspired millions to kindle the joy of achievement.

And then there is the master of all joy sparkers — Disney. What started with uplifting movies featuring fairy tales and a gregarious mouse has turned into a full-on dopamine factory. There’s merchandise galore to buy. There are TV channels and streaming services available day and night. And there’s a sprawling theme park dubbed The Happiest Place On Earth.

Scoff at all this if you’d like. But the talents of Disney, Nike, Coca-Cola, and Marie Kondo are undeniable. The truckloads of money we throw their way underscore this fact.

When it comes to sparking joy, we trust these brands and personalities more than we trust ourselves.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.


When I was a child, I was scared of the dark.

Terrified, really.

My parents were well aware of this. So, they plugged a night light into my bedroom wall socket. That night light would cast a faded glow on the four corners of the room, letting me know that everything was still there.

This solution quickly yielded new problems. I used to pitch a fit whenever we’d take an overnight trip since it meant I might sleep somewhere without a night light.

It was a valid concern. For while some hosts — like my grandparents — kept a night light in their guest rooms, others — like the Red Roof Inn off the highway — did not.

Fortunately, this phase did not last forever. It was an arduous process, but I eventually learned to accept the practice of sleeping in the dark.

I let go of my inhibitions. I embraced the silence of the abyss. I even found joy in it.

I see some similarities between my journey back then and the moment we face now. For, while the world might seem unfathomably dark, we are adaptable. With enough practice and persistence, we can reckon with the curveballs thrown our way. We might even find the slivers of joy within it.

For joy may seem like a grandiose emotion. But it starts in small places.

So, as we settle into new routines, let’s remain optimistic. Let’s search for signs of delight and wonder. And let’s use those to spark joy at a time when it’s so badly needed.

The power is in our hands. Let’s make this a wonderful time of the year once again.

The Spirit of Giving

Every year, as the calendar winds down, something magical happens.

Colorful lights cut through the darkness. Familiar songs hit the airwaves. And good spirit abounds.

Yes, it’s the holiday season. The time of reindeer antlers and gingerbread cookies. The time of ugly sweaters and endless parties. And the time of shopping and wrapping.

We have prepared all year for this moment — some more zealously than others.

For we know that when the days are short and the winter chill is strong, we can count on the dopamine high from these festivities to sustain us.

That dopamine high might come from a gift, wrapped in pretty paper. It might come from the serenity of loved ones gathered with us. It might even come from a cheerful Hello from a stranger.

In all of these cases, we are on the receiving end of bliss.

Bliss is addicting. Bliss is intoxicating. Bliss is the fuel that powers this magical time of year.

But there’s one small problem.

We’re experiencing it all backwards.


Tis better to give than to receive.

Many have parroted this proverb. But perhaps none as deftly as Charles Dickens.

With his 1843 masterpiece A Christmas Carol, Dickens managed to do the unthinkable. He crafted a cautionary tale that still resonates during our traditional month of revelry.

A Christmas Carol follows Ebenezer Scrooge, as he transitions from bitter and exacting accountant to kind and gentle. This might seem like an overdone narrative, but there’s a catch. The entire plot takes place in a 48 hour period between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

Scrooge’s overnight transformation from miserly to joyous is inspiring. But what we really connect with are the apparitions that visit Scrooge in his sleep — the Ghost of Christmas Past, The Ghost of Christmas Present and the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. These are the visions that show Scrooge the errors of his ways, and inspire him to chart a new path.

These spirits lay bare the consequences of neglect. They warn us of the dangers of self-absorption. And they project the impact these behaviors have on one’s legacy.

This is all pretty heavy stuff for the season of elves and one-horse open sleighs.

Yet, that was precisely Dickens’ point.

At the time Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol, the holiday season was one of extremes. The well-off would spend evenings in a drunken stupor, indulging themselves to no end. But across town, the less fortunate starved and froze, afflicted with a dearth of hope.

A Christmas Carol aimed to close that gap. To get the selfish to think of those around them. To convince the fortunate to give to the needy.

Dickens felt passionate about this cause. As a teenager, had to work long hours in deplorable conditions in a factory after his father was sent to a debtor’s prison. He never forgot what it felt like to be marginalized. And he made sure his readers understood that sensation too.

Encapsulating this message in a holiday tale was only fitting. After all, Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus — who is renowned for his selfless deeds. The reformed Scrooge at the end of A Christmas Carol channels the very essence of that spirit.

Even so, I would argue that A Christmas Carol only partially succeeded at its mission.

As it turns out, the spirit of giving did increase after the novella’s publication. For a while anyway.

But the onset of the Industrial Revolution and the advent of advertising were too much for Dickens’ ideals to overcome.

Suddenly, factories were cranking out more products than ever before. And there were plenty of ways to introduce the masses to these items.

The elements were in place for consumerism to take hold of society. And as it did, the holidays went from a season of giving to one of receiving.

The noble cause trumpeted by Charles Dickens found itself overturned in a bar ditch. And it has yet to get itself back upright.


Growing up, the holidays felt a bit different for me than it did for my friends.

I didn’t grow up in a Christian household. So, there was no Christmas tree in our living room. There were no garlands wrapping around the stair bannisters. And there were no lights strung to the edge of the roof.

Even so, I found myself sucked into the vortex of the holiday season, and the obsession with receiving that came with it.

For on Christmas Day each year, we’d head to my godmother’s house — where there was a Christmas tree in the living room. And as I took in the scene, I would find that Santa had left me a gift — generally that year’s edition of the Hess Toy Truck.

It wasn’t long before I developed a Pavolvian response to the holidays. As I thought of Santa bringing me the latest Hess Truck, my heart started racing.

This continued for several years. But then, something strange happened.

The entire gift receiving parade started to feel hollow. While I was still appreciative for what I received, I no longer craved it.

In short, I found I was over the season of receiving.

This revelation shook me to my core. The entire identity I had associated the holidays with was gone. And I wasn’t sure what would fill the void.

As I contemplated all this, I wandered into the kitchen of my childhood home. The Christmas Day edition of The New York Times was still on the table. At the top, above the iconic masthead, lay six words in green text: Today is Christmas. Remember the neediest.

Suddenly, it all clicked.

In that moment, I saw the true potential of the holidays. I saw it as a time to give, not to take.

I had yet to experience A Christmas Carol at this point. But Dickens’ grand moral of that tale found its way to me anyway.

Ever since that day, I’ve made a conscious effort to be more generous during this time of year. Not only with my money, but also with my time and disposition.

This has become more challenging over the years, as increasing demands of work, school and travel have taken their toll. But I do my best not to divert from my holiday season North Star.

Over time, I have seen this mission expand. In fact, I now consider generosity one of my core tenets. And these days, the spirit of giving is with me year-round.


My kitchen table revelation changed the trajectory of my life, in some sense. But I don’t consider my tale to be extraordinary.

For the truth is, we all have the power to embrace the spirit of giving. To unleash hidden generosity. To put others ahead of ourselves.

All that’s in doubt is whether we have the inclination to do so.

With that in mind, let’s flip the script that consumerism has thrown at us.

Let’s make the holidays about giving, not receiving.

That little change can make a world of difference.

Gratitude Through Turmoil

The holidays are here once again. As we prepare to feast on copious amounts of food, reconnect with loved ones and stress about shopping, a sense of finality is starting to set in.

Yes, although the calendar makers might not have gotten everything right — 30 days have September, April, June and November? Are you kidding me?! —they at least had the common decency to ensure the holiday season puts a tidy bow on the year.

As holidays ramp up, it’s natural to count our blessings. That’s what Thanksgiving was originally about, and it remains a central theme throughout the entire holiday season (along with lights, Santa hats and caroling).

However, I sense something different this time around. In the wake of a particularly trying year — one that has culminated in the most contentious election of our lifetime — a sense of angst has seemingly replaced that of gratitude.

This is far from unexpected. Division and mistrust have been central themes from coast to coast this year, often resulting in anger and violence. We’ve seemingly spent more time pointing the finger at others than we’ve spent trying to heal our fractured society. And we’ve given no indications that we plan on finding collective solutions to these problems anytime soon.

All of this is discouraging. But what upsets me the most is seeing people I look up to sitting in the corner with their head in their hands.

Too many of us are giving up. And that’s unacceptable.

I’ve put myself through the fire multiple times throughout my life, and I know that the moments that test our mettle are the ones that define us. It’s not about being backed into a corner; it’s about how we respond.

Those of us who believe in morality, acceptance and empathy have had a rough go of it recently. This is clear. And the principles of collectivism and inclusiveness have never seemed more like a pipe dream fantasy.

However, we should stop looking at the glass as half-empty. Even in times of turmoil, there is much that’s worthy of our gratitude.

We should be thankful that we hold the principle of decency dear in our hearts. That we pass them along to our children. That we live what we preach.

And we should appreciate that our collective predicament presents a giant opportunity. An opportunity to live our lives righteously, as we have always done. An opportunity to lead by example. And an opportunity to slowly get our society back to one that espouses values that connect and strengthen, rather than divide and weaken.

There is much work to be done. But we have the power to do it.

For that, we should be eternally grateful.

A Better Resolution

A new year is upon us. The changing of a digit on the year field was, once again, strangely a cause for celebration, indulgence and clichéd Year In Review lists. But once the confetti cleared and the hangovers lifted, something far worse took over our collective consciousness — those dreaded New Years Resolutions.

If you can’t tell, I’m not exactly a big fan of New Year’s. I mostly view it as a clerical holiday mixed with too much drinking, something we arbitrarily celebrate to inflate our own importance. In the natural order of the universe, it’s quite strange for billions of people to go nuts and drink champagne at a certain point of a random winter’s night. But because we’ve standardized our calendar to stop at a certain point, we’re convinced that something different has happened once it does.

Which leads me to those damn resolutions. Since we’ve deluded ourselves into thinking that something magical happens when the clock hits midnight on New Year’s Eve, we collectively decide to make broad changes at that time — whether that’s losing weight, saving money or being nicer to others.

But here’s the thing: Arbitrarily making resolutions simply because it’s a new year is selfish.

Don’t believe me? Well take a step back and think about what the impetus for some of those resolutions are? A weight loss resolution is often a reaction to holiday overindulgence, or a single-minded quest look good in a swimsuit in the summer. A resolution to save money is similarly inward-focused; we’re more likely to use that money to buy more things for ourselves than to help those in need. And if you have to make an arbitrary resolution to be a nicer person, well, shame on you.

These resolutions don’t really have much of an impact on the lives of those around us. They just make us feel better when we look in the mirror — or at least make us feel less guilty.

Now, there’s nothing wrong with self-improvement. But the start of a new year shouldn’t be the driving force behind it. For one thing, our heart is likely not spearheading these changes. For another, it’s harder to stay accountable when you’re doing something because a calendar told you to.

This is a big reason why none of my self-improvement initiatives have started in January. I started working out regularly two and a half years ago, and I’ve yet to go a week without at least 10 minutes on the treadmill since. I gave up McDonalds 18 months ago and haven’t set foot in a Golden Arches, Burger King or Wendys since then. And my last sip of soda was three months ago. All three decisions came from the heart — not an arbitrary date on the calendar. Because of that, I’ve remained committed to them.

So as this year continues, I urge you to make resolutions. I urge you to seek changes that make your life better and improve the lives of those around you. But most of all, I urge you to only take up these resolutions when your heart is fully committed to them.

Happy New Year.

A Holiday Wish

The holidays are here.

It’s a time of joy, cheer, giving and indulgence. It’s a time when festive decorations light up the darkest and good tidings bring warmth to the biting winter chill (which seems to be conspicuously absent this year). This juxtaposition is what makes the holidays so special, but there’s another reason the timing of this season is so important.

As someone who’s battled depression at various points in my life, I know that the winter can be the most difficult time of the year. Depression can take root in the mind at any time, but when the days are short, cold and gray, it can have a more pronounced effect. Filling the darkest and shortest of days with the generosity, kindness and light that surround the holidays can help lift spirits that are otherwise weighed down by depression.

So this season, I have a wish for everyone. Somewhere between the Egg Nog and the Champagne, family and friends, gifts and Mistletoe, bring joy to someone who needs it. Someone for whom this season is not a luxury, but a necessity. Show you’re there. Show you care.

Make a difference in someone’s life with this simple act. This will not only bring a smile to your face, but it will warm your heart. Trust me.

Happy Holidays and God Bless.