“The best things in life really aren’t things.” --Art Buchwald
Every December, something curious happens. Humans, otherwise reasonably intelligent (though that is in question nowadays) and relationally wired creatures, suddenly begin behaving like frantic squirrels collecting acorns, except the acorns are air fryers, novelty socks, and gingerbread-scented candles we didn’t need in November but now feel spiritually and emotionally incomplete without.
We don’t do this because the change of seasons has affected our brains. We do it because we’ve been trained to believe that purchasing is how we demonstrate caring, and that bigger, brighter, and more complicated holidays equal deeper connection, but the research says otherwise. And honestly, so does your nervous system. We won’t find caring and connection externally, we need quiet moments of shared presence and understanding to fill the craving we all have for connection. Let’s take a small step back, perhaps with a warm cup of tea and a lap blanket (if you’re in the Northern hemisphere) and look at what actually brings us closer during the holidays. Spoiler: it’s not the eighth trip to Target or Walmart.
Rituals Were Never About Buying Things
You can think of rituals as the psychological slow cooker of human connection. They work quietly in the background, softening the edges, blending the flavors, and making everything just a little warmer and more digestible. Rituals allow us to have a shared focus and for a brief period of time to align around the shared purpose of the ritual. Psychologists like Nick Hobson have shown how rituals regulate our emotions, reduce anxiety, and synchronize us with one another. In other words, the very structure of rituals created and strengthened connection long before the era of matching pajamas and free shipping.
When money and gifting entered these otherwise spiritual rituals, consumer culture showed up with a credit card, convincing us that what we really need for “togetherness” is more stuff, more events, more perfectly curated experiences that look good in photographs we see in Hallmark movies. Unfortunately, the pursuit of these images of happiness and connection often leave our nervous systems collapsed under the table instead. Instead of being held together by ritual, we started outsourcing shared meaning-making to whatever is on sale.
Consumption Creates Activity, Not Connection
Tim Kasser’s research lands a well-timed wake-up call: materialistic holidays actually reduce well-being, gratitude, and closeness. The American Psychological Association’s “Stress in America” reports show predictable spikes in holiday anxiety are tied to money, logistics, and expectations. Not one of these spikes involves worrying about whether we made the perfect pie for dinner, but plenty involve overspending, over-committing, and under-connecting. We’ve mistaken activity for intimacy, busyness for engagement, and getting the right gift for truly knowing another person’s deep self. We’ve tried to purchase our way into belonging. Deep down, these holidays don’t feel like ours anymore, they feel like something cooked up for us by an algorithm (and maybe they are! Those ads in your facebook feed aren’t random.)
A Healthy Family Field Doesn’t Require a Shopping Cart
In constellation work, we step back far enough from the immediate tangle of relationships to see the whole picture. One thing quickly becomes clear: when our important connections feel frayed or unrepaired, we often try to soothe ourselves through external means, food, alcohol, shopping are all aimed at soothing the deeper loneliness and isolation we feel. Consumption becomes a stand-in for closeness. The shopping cart becomes a proxy for a conversation we’re not sure how to start. But the family system doesn’t respond to purchases. It responds to attention, genuine acknowledgment, and caring presence. Which, conveniently, cost nothing, yet fill our hearts.
The beautifully subversive thing is that connection comes back the moment we simplify. Small sincere moments, a shared walk, a warm conversation, are far more bonding than people expect. People remember how we made them feel, not what we bought them. Real connection takes time together. As the holidays approach, here are a few gentle experiments you can try.
Three Experiments for a More Connected Holiday
1. Swap one purchased experience for one co-created ritual.
Instead of buying a holiday event:
• Cook a simple dish with a friend or family member.
• Invite someone to join you for a cup of tea.
• Light a candle together with someone you care about and tell them one thing you’re grateful for about them.
Small rituals strengthen belonging more than impressive outings.
2. Add one ritual to your holiday plans that you can do again next year.
Predictability is soothing. Try:
• Offering a morning toast over breakfast or a gratitude sharing gathering at your local coffee shop.
• Take short walk after a simple shared dinner and each tell one of your favorite events from the past year.
• Invite someone who loves music to a concert they would enjoy and go with them.
Get creative! Repeated rituals that connect us calm the nervous system much more reliably than an annual ornament crisis.
3. Listen to connect.
No one remembers the bow layering technique on presents. Everyone remembers being listened to with kindness and consideration, especially when we have differing views.
• Make it a point to listen before you tell your story.
• Ask at least three follow-up questions before you change the topic.
• Ask how the other person feels about the topic rather than simply discuss the topic.
Bring your curiosity and go a little deeper than your usual conversation with those you are with during the holidays.
Happy holidays don’t require grand gestures, elaborate decorations or more impressive meals. Connection requires presence, intention, and small moments of being human together. If you find yourself sucked into overconsumption, remember: that impulse often signals a longing for connection that hasn’t been met yet. Step back, breathe, and look at the people who matter most, even if the connections between you are still a little tangled. They almost always are. Connection is quiet, sturdy, and handmade. Consumption is loud, fleeting, and mass-produced.
This year, maybe choose the handmade thing.
