For the last week we’ve been furiously scratching out or backspacing on 2024 and replacing it with 2025 in dismay that the century – the one we fretted so much about back in Y2K – is already a quarter gone. Yes, we know it’s a New Year, that the calendar page has flipped. The capitalistic evidence is everywhere with offers of gym memberships, weight loss programs, and tips for keeping those pesky resolutions. If we believe the hype, those of us who choose to ease slowly into the year are the outliers, while it seems everyone else is primed for success, progress, forward motion. New Year, New Me! Best Year Ever!
My mother was a firm believer and practitioner of the seasons of the Nativity, beginning with lighting a new candle on the Advent wreath on each of the four Sundays before Christmas, and celebrating the Feast of the Epiphany on January 6. Among other things, it was always the day my mom took down the Christmas decorations. Legend has it that Epiphany, also called Twelfth Night or Three Kings Day, honors the arrival of the Wise Men or Magi who followed a star to the Bethlehem stable where the Christ child was born. Various customs commemorating the day include a King’s Cake, which has a small figure of a baby hidden inside, chalking the doorframe of a home for protection against evil, winter swimming, and leaving straw or hay in shoes for the camels of the itinerant Wise Men.
The latter is one we practiced when I was a child and we’d awake to small gifts in our shoes, ostensibly from the grateful travelers. File this curious custom in with the myriad questions I wish I’d asked my mother when she was still alive. National Geographic pins the tradition to Spain, Latin America and the Philippines, which seems an odd appropriation for a clan of Irish Americans.
Is it possible my mom had never heard of Nollaig na mBan? Also known as “Women’s Christmas” or “Little Christmas,” the old Irish custom has men taking over the household responsibilities on the day of Epiphany, giving women a break from all their cooking and cleaning and hosting throughout the holiday season. It may come as an ***epiphany*** to some that there are sexist undertones here, so maybe we adapt it so the partner of whatever gender, who does the lion’s share of the housework, gets the day off to cavort with their friends down at the pub or maybe go for a winter swim with the Bad Sisters.
Taking the day off sounds nice. And unrealistic. Folks who are slaves to the calendar have already hit the ground running. On January 2 I had a professional email about business plans. The next day, an assignment from a client.
My soul cried out: Everyone needs to calm the @#$% down!! Can’t we at least wait until next week, for Pete’s sake?! I felt rushed and resentful and wondered why everyone was so aggro.
I just found out about Nollaig na mBan over the weekend and I’ve already blown it by emptying the dishwasher this morning. I want to be intentional about this New Year, but I’m not ready for it. No resolutions. No big changes. No sudden movements. I want to ease in, take it a day at a time, try to stay mindful of the intentions I set for myself on a daily basis, and maybe I’ll take a nap this afternoon.
It doesn’t matter if there are palm trees in view and that it’s 72 degrees outside. In my heart, it’s snowing and wintery and time for hibernation. I can always reassess around Mardi Gras at the end of Epiphany’s liturgical season, but for now it’s New Year, Same Me… sitting by the fire with a cup of tea.
***a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight
