Navigating Holiday Stress: Compassion and December Dukkha
Special "haaay" to the queers and adoptees
Hi friends!
The holiday “family” season brings complex emotions - especially for queer and adopted folks. While others celebrate, many of us manage stress, self-criticism, and grief. When we honestly face our struggles rather than trying to force joy, we develop ways to care for ourselves and connect with others.
If you’re new: welcome! You’re dropping into the middle of a series on the three marks (or characteristics) of existence in Buddhist philosophy.
December Dukkha
“the answer is…‘I don’t know.’”
The last time I wrote about dukkha (stress, discontent, unsatisfactoriness, suffering) was for another list—the Four Noble Truths. There, I gave specific examples of how dukkha emerged for college grads in Reality Bites (1994): the existential wandering, the romantic wondering, the certainty of selfing when, as Lainie said during her valedictorian speech, “the answer is…‘I don’t know.’”
In this essay, dukkha is informed by the other two constituents of this list: anattā (not-self) and anicca (impermanence).
Nothing stays the same (Anicca), yet we often pressure ourselves to maintain traditions around the holidays
The resulting stress (dukkha) can feel especially acute when everyone else seems to be IG-ready
Anattā challenges the notion of a fixed, separate self—but, as Jack Kornfield has joked, “if you think you’re enlightened, go visit family.”
Taken together, our identities are only ever relational and fleeting. Thich Nhat Hanh advocated for the concept of “interbeing”; we “inter-are.” “There are no separate entities,” he wrote, “only manifestations that rely on each other to be possible.”
I find Peter Hershock’s coverage of this in Chan Buddhism quite beautiful:
Fundamentally, this means becoming aware that, in some way, we all make a difference to one another. We thus begin seeing that we have a responsibility for asking what kind of difference. In this way, seeing all things as troubled or troubling establishes the foundation or roots for cultivating the felt partnership of true compassion.
In other words, the first step to dealing with stress, discontent, unsatisfactoriness is by honestly interfacing with the other two realities. Dukkha is the hinge, dukkha is the product, dukkha is—ironically—the answer.
As shared in my piece on equanimity, it took me years to understand this is not an abstract concept. Compassion requires an understanding of suffering, else it’s just pity. Interfacing with dukkha is an embodied practice of responding with agency, not out of habit or fear.
In my own experience of the holidays, dukkha manifests in three primary ways: through family stress, self-criticism, and grief.
Family Stress as December Dukkha
Dukkha often surfaces during holiday gatherings, where family dynamics can heighten feelings of stress or exclusion.
About a year ago, I went to a LGBTQ sit with bruni dávila.
They told a story about how they got into a fight about gender and sexuality with a family member. bruni used the vignette to show how petty, common, and cutting exclusionary remarks can be, especially at holiday family gatherings.
Their goal was to remind the group that we are worthy of love and while these words can hurt, they don’t need to harm. We can choose how to respond.
I thanked them for their teachings and asked a question. “I agree, [family meanness] is super common, unfortunately. What happened after the fight? What can people DO when they feel overwhelmed by family?”
bruni said they left the “party” altogether.
And this, friends, is one way to interface with dukkha.
Leaving can absolutely be a valid part of your (LGBTQ+) holiday survival kit, because what’s also happening here is a fierce act of self-compassion. Their response respected their suffering.
Other ways to interface with your discomfort might look like
Creating time limits for challenging gatherings (“I can only stay for two hours”)
Preparing specific responses to difficult questions (“If you cannot remember my pronouns, just say my name”)
Planning regular breaks or quiet moments (Short walks are great!)
Having a support person on standby for text check-ins
Creating your own rituals that honor your needs and values alongside family traditions
What other tips might go here? Comment at the bottom.
bruni bailed because of a rude family member. Yet often our harshest critic isn't family - it's ourselves.
Self-Criticism as December Dukkha
The holidays amplify our inner critics. Shouldn’t you be like…more better?
My recent experience with Free League’s The Electric State, by Simon Stålenhag, illustrates holiday self-criticism.
The Electric State features a dystopic Pacifica (obviously meant to be California), after mass addiction to virtual reality desaturated the populace and their capacity to maintain real relations. Anyone familiar with Stålenhag’s previous work, like Tales From the Loop, would know the art is gorgeous. To reference an in-game stat, I feel my “bliss” rising looking at the creamy, dreamy, haunting pictures of post-digital collapse.
I ordered the pdf and book. YES! I said, excited to make my way across this ‘90s dystopia.
Probably a month later, I opened the pdf.
JFC, this feels like Elon Musk’s America. I closed the pdf.
A few weeks later, I opened it again and actually made my characters.
I have yet to take the plastic off the book or play the game. The game book, a means to engage and imagine, became a symbol of my perceived failure to do exactly that.
Rest is short for restoration. And, often, restoration requires a bit of sleuthing to discern what is actually causing the stress.
If I can begin to see why I’m criticizing myself about how I spend my money, time, energy, I can then massage those knots out by applying some compassion. (And, remember, dukkha is usually a product of selfing or fixating on a desire for things to be different.)
Selfing and staring at Stålenhag’s desolate, barren, beautiful landscapes in The Electric State, reminded me of the line: “lie fallow.”
Fields benefit from rest. Stop expecting a harvest. Let it chill.
You can just appreciate the damn pictures if you want to. That would be enough.
It’s okay to buy things for yourself. You are enough.
You’ll play it later. Maybe. May you be happy.
Lie fallow.
988, the crisis lifeline, offers around the clock chat, text, and deaf/HoH options.
Grief as December Dukkha
Yes, there is joy, love, and connection this time of year. The flipside is always grief, loss, and endings. Mindfulness means allowing both to exist.
Beyond the pressures of family and self-expectation, the holidays can also bring a wave of grief, particularly for people who have experienced loss or separation.
I always wondered about my biological parents in December.
For adoptees, "family season" can surface complex emotions around belonging and identity. These feelings often compound for those of us navigating multiple intersections, like transracial adoptees who might face both adoptee tokenism and casually racist commentary at family gatherings.
Orienting toward the heart practices doesn’t deny callousness, ignorance, or truly tragic victims of circumstance. The heart practices are how we manage the challenge.
For queerdos, adoptees, sensitive folks walking delicate lines this post-election December, these practices can provide holiday grief support:
Metta (lovingkindness) reminds us we are worthy of love
Compassion helps us interface with and respond to emotions
Equanimity allows us to be present with both joy and difficulty
Sympathetic joy opens us to shared regard
You don’t need to practice alone!
When communities engage, our individual acts of restoration create ripples. Each person who claims their right to rest makes it easier for others to do the same. This is my hope for Adoptee Alchemy and Creative Coalition: that they become as living examples of how we can hold space for each other.
And in this time of great expectations, perhaps the greatest gift we can give ourselves is permission to be exactly where and who we are.
And another gift would be subscribing to this bi-weekly newsletter. 🤓🩵
Takeaway Practice
Lie fallow.
I invite you to rest. This might look different for each of us, but I encourage you to do something you haven’t done in a while. Restoration includes the skillful investment of energy in activities you like.
Maybe your rest looks like
painting with your fountain pen ink
planning and making a new recipe
declining holiday party invitations
watching your comfort show
taking a nap
Whatever you choose is valid. Pass time consciously, with intention, and with kindness.
Also, sharing is caring. What other tips for setting boundaries and interfacing with dukkha can you add here?
Community Events
If the registration fee is cost-prohibitive, please ask for the link via email or DM.
Adoptee Alchemy: December 15
Adoptee Alchemy is an adoptee-only space to practice meditation and mindfulness. No experience is required to join.
We’ll create the container by naming the community agreements, meditate, and then share what’s arising for us. I’ll bring a couple light journal/writing options, too.
Regular Price: $15
Community Rate: $6 (hive60)
No one is turned away for lack of funds
Creative Coalition: January 5th
The Creative Coalition centers mindful play—a different game each month—to work with inner critics, expand our imagination, and practice with our not-selves.
In January, we’ll be playing This Body of Mine, I Will Make it a Temple by Aliza A Courtney. **December CC attendees: please note the change!**
This is a game “about trans experiences told through a fictional lens of a mech pilot coming home from war [deciding what their body] will become in times of peace.”
This one will be facilitated like a traditional workshop, where I walk you through each phase of reclaiming your (mech’s) embodied purpose. It would help to have your own tarot deck, but I will also plan for digital tools.
All are explicitly welcome to play, though the designer does give this disclaimer:
I must make it clear that this game, while aiming to be indicative of as many trans experiences as possible, will inevitably fall short. It is informed by my personal experiences as a trans woman and how I’ve personally navigated gender in the past, along with hearing the experience of my many wonderful trans siblings and friends.
Regular Price: $45
Community Rate: $18 (code: hive60)
No one is turned away for lack of funds
Bio
Logan Juliano, PhD (they/them) is a writer, educator, facilitator, everyperson at Light Hive, and continuing lecturer at the University of California, Los Angeles. They hold a PhD in Performance Studies.
A go-to for me this holiday season has been "I wasn't expecting that today. Can you give me a few minutes to process that?" It feels like I'm being honest and communicating to the other person rather than leaving then hanging, while also not putting pressure on myself to immediately react.