For those folks who may be finding that holiday cheer is hard to come by, there is an alternative to the cheery decking of the halls. There is an available option to celebrate a holiday and maintain a healthy dose of grumpiness.
That’s right — there is Festivus.
December 23 is Festivus, a day reserved in history for all who feel that the normal holiday traditions don’t quite fit the bill.
Festivus is a special holiday reserved for those more apt to want to embrace their inner “bah, humbug!” than their Christmas spirit. It’s a fair guess that more of us may be in that camp than ever before and the antidote, or at least an outlet that might prove cathartic, is Festivus.
Festivus harks back to sitcoms of years past. The farcical holiday was birthed on the TV show “Seinfeld” on December 18, 1997, when George Costanza, played by Jason Alexander, revealed that his father (played by the late Jerry Stiller) created the day to contrast the religious and commercial aspects of the traditional December holidays.
Jerry Seinfeld, the protagonist in his namesake show — which ran on NBC from July 5, 1989, to May 14, 1998, with nine seasons and 180 episodes — takes an interest in the holiday and its peculiar rituals.
And if we’re getting really technical, Festivus may have roots dating back as early as 1966 when “Seinfeld” writer Dan O’Keefe, who introduced Festivus into the plotline, first heard his father dream up the holiday.
“Festivus for the rest of us!” is the tagline that caught like wildfire following the episode.
The holiday comes complete with a set of traditions befitting the aftermath of the pandemic, including a drab pole instead of a brightly lit tree. Perhaps most poignant, Festivus tradition also calls for a special ceremony known as the “airing of grievances,” where you get to tell the people in your life how they disappointed you. I’m sure if “Seinfeld” were still producing new episodes, it would expand the Festivus parameters to allow you to complain about the last couple of years and everything else that’s upside down in your life.
I, for one, will happily gather around a scrappy, salvaged pole and complain my head off. I feel better just thinking about all the complaining, about letting the year out in one fell swoop of verbal run-ons, all in the name of Festivus!
And then I hope I’ll feel better and be grateful my family is doing OK. I know that airing my gripes could be cathartic, but too much complaining, like too much of anything, might not be so good for me.
When it comes to celebrating Festivus, “The trick to doing so in an emotionally healthy manner is to distinguish between two types of grievances — those we can’t do anything about and those we would actually like to resolve,” said Guy Winch, a New York-based clinical psychologist who has a following as Dear Guy on TED and as the cohost of the “Dear Therapists” podcast, via email.
If your grievances are over things out of your control, such as not being able to see loved ones or catch the latest movie or dinner out, then “by all means, stand around that pole and vent,” Winch said.
But if you have some control over the grievance, yelling at a ragged pole with others listening might not be the answer. Opt instead to address the grievance with them directly, or “scream into an abyss but don’t create tension and fights that could ruin what would otherwise be a lovely (tongue-in-cheek) celebration of pettiness, misery, whininess, and victimhood,” Winch said.
Just complaining isn’t a helpful strategy, according to Tina Gilbertson, a Denver-based psychotherapist and author of “Constructive Wallowing: How to Beat Bad Feelings by Letting Yourself Have Them.”
“Airing your grievances is only half the battle when it comes to feeling better,” Gilbertson said. “Make sure someone validates the emotions behind each grievance, or do this for yourself. … Every grievance needs a compassionate witness to be healing.”
For those wanting to get really into the letter of the Festivus law, the pole and grievances are followed by an attempt to pin down literally everyone around you. It could be cathartic to wrestle your housemates and let out some of that extra tension, so long as no one gets hurt.
Go ahead, put up your pole and air your grievances. Just maybe leave a tiny pinch of room for positivity if you can, because even George Costanza’s father smiled once in a while.
Allison Hope is a writer and native New Yorker who favors humor over sadness, travel over television, and coffee over sleep. This story was first published in 2022 and has been updated.
