I put my Christmas tree up at the weekend. It’s only November, I know, several weeks until actual Christmas, but I needed the little twinkly lights, warmth and lovely nostalgia that big Christmas tree in the corner brings.
My dad died at this time of year and the sadness would often be amplified by the cold nothingness between Halloween and Christmas celebrations.
So a few years back I decided I’d start a new tradition, and fill that space with lights, sparkly things, Christmas movies and Santa.
I used not to announce it. I wouldn’t put pictures of the tree up on socials, pretending my house was a Christmas-free zone until respectable December, even when I had it decorated for weeks.
I’d nod my head and smile when people scoffed about those putting up their Christmas trees in November, checking I didn’t have any tinsel glitter on my jumper that might give my secret away.
But then I discovered other early Christmassers who embraced the festivities before the socially acceptable norms and needed the light in their lives too.
We almost formed a secret support group. You see there are many others like us out there. Folks who need those little lights to carry them through the dark winter months, for whatever reason.
It’s not commercial – I put the same lights and decorations up that I bought when our kids were small – it’s emotional.
And I think that this year, more than ever, we need something light in our lives.
This world can feel unbearably heavy at times. News of wars, cruelty, brutality and divisive politics can make it seem as though humanity outside our windows is completely unravelling.
Watch the news for five minutes and it’s hard not to feel totally powerless, swept away by waves of anger, frustration, despair or numbness.
Yet, amidst this chaos, there is still beauty and comfort - and there is a certain degree of power in finding it for ourselves.
I provide training to newsrooms and student journalists around newsroom mental wellbeing.
Journalists must consume the awfulness of the world on a daily basis, filter out the worst bits and publish or broadcast what is happening. They can’t walk away or look away.
And one of the things I advise them to do is find their beautiful things among the chaos. Find the things that bring them comfort and wrap their arms around those things when it gets tough, overwhelming, hard to endure.
This is not about avoidance or ignorance but about grounding ourselves so that we regulate our nervous systems, bring down our stress levels, and move forward with strength and peace.
There are so many things happening in this world that we can do absolutely nothing about. But what we do have control over is how we ourselves react and behave.
Anchoring ourselves in the present, here and now, where we are, can help.
Surrounding ourselves with things that bring us peace, joy and comfort will also soothe your heart.
It doesn’t have to be a massive thing, maybe a soft blanket, a favourite song, the scent of a lit candle, Christmas lights, a mug of coffee, a picture of a loved one – your thing, anything that nurtures peace
All of these little things can become for us symbols of stability in uncertain, stressful, frustrating times. These things can remind us that beauty persists, even when the world seems so very bleak.
The world can be a cruel, heartless, brutal place that seems to move to break our hearts over and over again. But it is also achingly beautiful.
By nurturing ourselves with compassion and focusing on what we can do - both with kindness for ourselves and others - we can find the strength to embrace hope and to pass it on.
Amidst the darkness, let us seek light and, when possible, be it.
Put your Christmas tree up if you want. Wear your comfy Christmas pyjamas and drink your hot chocolate by your twinkly lights in November, December even January.
Sing your Christmas songs, eat mince pies until you are sick of the sight of the flipping things.
There’s enough darkness in the World. Shine your lights.