What Would Make This Christmas Magical?

And what are you willing to let go of to make room for it?

One year, I made it snow inside the ballroom at the Disneyland Hotel.

Really.

Well, maybe I didn’t, but during my corporate career, I was responsible for planning some pretty spectacular holiday celebrations. We had budgets in the six figures, and I loved dreaming up ways to make those events extraordinary. That particular year, Disney’s Imagineers had developed new technology to make it snow, and they wanted to test it before introducing it during the nighttime fireworks finale on Main Street, Disneyland. So, we got to experience it before anyone else.

Our party also happened to fall on the same evening as Disneyland’s famous Candlelight Processional. After the singers finished their performance in the park, they came into our ballroom, surrounded the room, and sang while snow fell from above.

Can you imagine?

It was absolutely magical. And honestly, I still miss those big, beautiful corporate holiday parties. Even though I used to complain about attending celebrations for all three divisions I supported, I loved getting dressed up, seeing everyone enjoying themselves, and being part of something so special. I’ve always loved creating beautiful experiences for other people. And that love certainly didn’t end when I retired.

Every year, long before Thanksgiving, I start buying the Christmas editions of my favorite magazines. I attend the holiday unveilings at my favorite home design stores, wander through the displays, and imagine how I might decorate our home or what new ideas I might try. I love the planning almost as much as the celebrating.

I picture the house all dressed up for Christmas, the lights twinkling, the holiday music playing, wonderful things coming out of the oven, and friends and family gathered around. And then, of course, I start thinking about all the things I want to do.

For years, I made homemade caramels using my grandmother’s recipe. I’d make homemade marshmallows too and combine them into Scotchmallows. And while I was at it, I’d make caramel corn. I loved the process, the tradition, and sharing those homemade treats with people I cared about. But goodness, it was a lot of work. And that was just the candy. There was still the shopping, wrapping, decorating, baking, entertaining, cooking, holiday events, and all the usual responsibilities that didn’t magically disappear just because Christmas was coming.

I think that’s where so many of us get into trouble during the holidays. We have lives that are already pretty full, and then we try to add an entire season’s worth of wonderful things on top of them. And because they’re wonderful things, we have a hard time deciding what to leave out. Before we know it, we’re exhausted, wondering how a season we were so excited about became so demanding. I’ve certainly been there — I’ve practically killed myself trying to make Christmas magical! (Only slightly exaggerating.)

But somewhere along the way, I realized something important. If I wanted to truly enjoy the holidays, I couldn’t keep trying to do all the things I loved. I had to decide which things mattered most this year. And sometimes that meant letting go of things I genuinely didn’t want to give up.

Like making those homemade Scotchmallows.

I still love the tradition, and I have wonderful memories of making them. But these days, I’d much rather spend that time hosting a baking day with my daughter and grandchildren, making several batches of cookies together. The candy was wonderful. But so is having the kids in the kitchen, making a mess, laughing, and creating memories of their own. I haven’t stopped loving one thing. I’ve simply chosen to make room for another.

And I think that’s an important distinction. We often talk about simplifying the holidays as though the solution is to stop doing things we don’t enjoy. But what happens when we enjoy almost all of it? What happens when the problem isn’t obligation, but enthusiasm? That’s when we have to become more intentional about what we choose.

One of the ways I’ve tried to do that is by getting my shopping and wrapping finished by Thanksgiving weekend — that’s also when we decorate the house. My goal is to have those things behind me so I can spend December enjoying our home, attending holiday events, and spending time with people I love. Do I manage every year? Of course not. But having that intention changes the way I approach the season. I’m thinking about the experience I want to have, not simply the tasks I need to complete.

I’ll probably always buy those Christmas magazines and wander through beautifully decorated stores, imagining the possibilities. The difference now is that I might choose one or two new things to try — a new recipe for Christmas dinner, a different way to decorate the table, something fun to do with the family. I don’t have to bring every wonderful idea home with me. And neither do you.

As we head toward the holidays, I’ve been thinking about how this connects to our October conversation about stepping into who we’re becoming — about making choices that reflect the women we want to be and creating lives that make yes possible. The holidays are a perfect opportunity to practice.

Instead of starting with “how am I going to get all of this done?” what if we started somewhere else? What would have to happen for me to reach January and say, “I really loved Christmas this year?”

Maybe you’d love to spend an afternoon baking cookies with your grandchildren, drive around looking at Christmas lights, attend a beautiful concert, or invite friends over for a simple dinner. Maybe what would make Christmas magical for you is a few evenings at home with the tree lit, a good book, and absolutely nowhere you need to be. Whatever it is, start there. Then look at your calendar and ask yourself what you’re willing to set aside to make room for it.

Maybe there’s a tradition you’ve loved for years that you can skip this time. Maybe there’s an invitation you can decline, a project you can postpone, or something you can simplify. And maybe there’s something you genuinely love that simply doesn’t fit this particular season of your life. You don’t have to stop loving it, decide it was never important, or give it up forever. You can just choose something else this year.

We don’t have to recreate every wonderful experience we’ve ever had to have a wonderful life today.

I still think about that extraordinary evening at the Disneyland Hotel — the music, the snow, the beautiful ballroom, the excitement of witnessing something nobody had ever seen before. It was magical. But so is a kitchen full of my mom, daughter, and grandchildren, four generations making Christmas cookies. And I’ve come to realize that the magic isn’t necessarily in how elaborate the experience is or how much effort goes into creating it. It’s in being present enough to actually enjoy it.

So before you start filling your calendar with everything you could do this holiday season, I’d love for you to sit with two questions: what would make this Christmas magical for me? And what am I willing to let go of to make room for it?

Because the goal isn’t to get more done. It’s to enjoy more of what matters.