The snow outside our apartment was deep enough that I was concerned our little car wouldn’t be able to get out to take my wife to the hospital. She had just passed her due date for our first child. We both put on our winter gear and headed outside to shovel as much snow as we could; to make sure we had space enough to get a running start out of the driveway.
All the effort didn’t induce her labor. She was just really sore when our son was born four days later.
My wife was due on Christmas Day 2003. Until the whole shoveling incident, we’d taken it easy that holiday season. Sure, we’d gone to some obligatory family functions, but outside of that, there was no rushing around doing last minute shopping. That Christmas season was about our little family, particularly the “plus one” that was going to show up any moment.
Some people love the hustle and bustle of holiday shopping. As for me, I’ve been over it for a long time. Christmas, to me, is a time of reflection and spending time with the people we love. Big-box stores and e-tailers alike have made the season about going into debt to buy things for people they probably don’t want, much less need.
The question for me is why do we feel the need to pack every moment with activity during a time that should be about family and grateful reflection?
The holiday season seems to crash down on us in a flurry of activity and noise earlier with each passing year. Parking lots are filled with cars driven by impatient drivers. Inside the stores, loud holiday music competes with announcements about sales and the din of countless conversations. Online isn’t any quieter — ads for last-minute deals and “doorbuster discounts” flood every feed and inbox, practically screaming for attention.
Then there are the gatherings. Holiday gatherings hold the promise of connection but often devolve into a kind of chaotic blend of overlapping conversations and too many dirty dishes. Even joyful noise can be overwhelming when there’s no space for quiet. The season’s like an orchestra of activity, but instead of harmony, it feels like discord.
With all the noise and sensory overload, it’s easy to miss the subtle melodies of the season: peace, joy, stillness, connection, and love. These fleeting moments can be overshadowed by the cacophony of must-dos and must-haves. It’s ironic, I suppose, that the more we chase the “perfect holiday,” the less room we leave for the quiet moments that make the season what it is (or could be).
Leaning into the noise makes us risk losing the ability to hear the whispers of what matters most. I wonder what I might discover if I allowed myself to step back, embrace stillness, and really listen.
On the day our first son decided to make his entrance into the world, my wife’s labor was long and intense. When our baby finally arrived, he and my wife were exhausted. They both slept well that first night.
Moments like those don’t announce themselves. When I went home the night he was born, I had terrible dreams and a panic attack as I contemplated the gravity of being a young father. In my wildest dreams, I could not have imagined the complete shift when I walked back into that hospital room and picked up my infant son for the first time.
I don’t think there can be a sweeter feeling than holding your firstborn in your arms for the first time. Time stood still and I somehow felt that all was right in the universe. It’s one of those core memories that hasn’t faded in the twenty-one years since it happened.
That morning, sitting in the quiet of the hospital room, I felt something profound. There was no noise, no rushing to be anywhere or do anything, no distractions — just me, my wife, and our newborn son, wrapped in a stillness that felt sacred. There was never a thought about parties we missed or gifts we didn’t buy. It was about life — remarkable life — love, and the beginning of something new.
Moments like those don’t usually demand attention the way the chaos of the holidays does. They whisper, politely asking us to slow down enough to notice. These are the moments that ground us, even while the world continues to buzz on around us.
Of course, I realize these moments are everywhere, not just during the holidays, but they pass unnoticed most of the time because we’re too busy chasing what we think we should be doing. The quietness of that first morning with my son taught me that the important things in life don’t clamor for our attention — they either wait patiently for us to recognize them or they pass us by.
The challenge, of course, is intentionally making space for these moments. That’s not easy in a culture that demands busyness and productivity, especially during the holidays. Choosing to step back and say no to the noise feels a bit like swimming up a waterfall. It might, however, be the most important holiday (or anytime) decision we make.
Imagine what the holidays — and life, in general — would be like if, instead of cramming our calendars with obligations and shopping carts with stuff, we filled our days with the people and moments that bring us joy and connection? It’s not about rejecting the holidays. It’s about reclaiming them for what they were meant to be.
What changes can you make to connect with what matters?
Maybe this is the season where you simplify your gift-giving efforts and settle on gifts that are non-material like a handwritten note, a favorite memory, or a simple act of service. Maybe it’s planning some small, more intentional gatherings with plenty of space for quality conversations.
For me, this will be a season of expressing more gratitude to the people in my life through service and time.
The world is full of noise and commotion. Let this holiday season be a chance to refocus on the people and the things that matter most. Remember, the holidays aren’t about the perfect gift or the perfect party or activities to fill all your time. They’re about connection, gratitude, and the joy of just being present.
The season will always have its noise and chaos, but that doesn’t mean that has to be the priority. Simplifying, slowing down, and listening creates room for the moments that don’t demand our time but deserve it most.
When you look back, it won’t be a perfectly wrapped gift or packed schedule that stands out. It’ll be the quite, sacred moments that become the core memories you carry for decades.
The quietness of what’s important is always there, waiting for you to notice. Will you hear it this season?
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