Plenty of people dread the holidays. I’m going the other way and admitting I love the fuzzy feeling of Christmas.
This year I’m chasing the Christmas spirit through my senses. Here’s how it works.
I drink gløgg every day. Hot mug in both hands, steam on my face, cinnamon and cardamom on the first sip, raisins and almonds at the bottom.
I walk past the Christmas tree vendors and breathe in the pine and spruce. That sharp, resinous scent comes from compounds called monoterpenes, and it clears my head on cold evenings.
I stare at every light display I pass. Warm yellow bulbs blur in the dark, and I let them.
I watch cozy movies, wrapped in a wool blanket, with socks on and the sound turned low.
I skip the gift shopping. I’m picking up all my presents for family and friends at the airport on Friday when I’m flying home, somewhere between the coffee smell and the boarding announcements.
I also try not to catch other people’s pre-holiday stress. I let the noise wash past me, and I keep my hands around something warm.
So far, it’s working.