In fact, not only did I survive, it was quite wonderful. Sure, it was filled with looming deadlines, printers not guaranteeing on-time delivery, and coworkers not providing me with the copy I need until the very last moment, but it was still wonderful. Let me explain.
I find that my closest relationships are also the most complicated, and it makes sense. If, say, a casual acquaintance voted for someone I fundamentally disagree with, it’s rather effortless to simply avoid the person (avoidance is both an important vice and coping mechanism for me.) If that same person is someone really close to me, then the avoidance tactics can only work temporarily, because they are too important to me to let it divide us. It’s the setbacks, disagreements, and trials in a relationship that make it stronger, and well, complicated. Believe it or not, complicated is good. It’s proof that the relationship is real.
That was a convoluted way of describing my relationship with Christmas. It’s like hosting a big family gathering, where you are looking forward to seeing each other, but are equally happy once it is done, because the whole thing is exhausting. That’s how I feel about Christmas (and Easter, but that’s another story.)
As if on cue, there are dreadful moments leading up to Christmas, usually the closer the day comes. While the Advent season winds down, the big day becomes more real. Christmas is delegated to a deadline. Like clockwork, there’s IT problems, broken copiers, deaths with funerals to plan, and deadlines missed. On top of all that, you have coworkers all also stressed and overworked, each with their own unique way of dealing with it. It feels like a ancient, scripted reality show, played out at churches across the world every December.
But throughout this time, there are important moments; a song during a service, a thank you from a parishioner, a hug from a coworker and a friend.
If you were nice enough to read all the way through, here comes the good stuff. My unsolicited advice to other communicators (and church employees in general) is to make space for quite moments. For me, it was the same day that I had to move my leaflet production schedule a week ahead to get it printed in time for Christmas. I had no idea how I was going to make it happen. I couldn’t even get the correct text for the leaflets from other people in the office.
It was that predictable, mini-meltdown moment for me.
So I stopped what I was doing, closed my office door, and spent a few hours redesigning the covers for all four leaflets. I didn’t have time for it, but I did it anyways. Headphones on, deadlines pushed out of my head, I designed recklessly. I remembered why I love my job and the significance of what we do as designers in the church. Being lost in Photoshop and inDesign was my centering practice. It was a recipe of solitude and creativity that served as the elixir to my ailments. I encourage you to find yours, particularly when it seems hardest to do. Be creative in your practice. Sure, it could be a prayer, a church service, some sort of meditation; but, it could also be getting lost in artwork on your computer screen, singing your heart out in your car, or some other action that could only possibly be calming to you alone.
Do it or don’t, but be rest assured, Christmas will always be wonderful, as long as you want it to be.

PS. Despite (or maybe because) of that design time, I still managed to get everything in on time.
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