HOW TO FIND THE WONDER IN CHRISTMAS (AS ADULTS)
...and tap into the childlike joy of the season
Words
ANGELA SCANLON
Right, lean in. If you’re currently thinking about the festive season in a slightly sticky, vaguely panicked way like a malfunctioning elf on a deadline, welcome. You are in the right place.
Pull up a mince pie, possibly four. Let’s talk about wonder. Remember wonder? That fizzy Christmas feeling we had as kids where everything was magical – the lights, the tree, the suspiciously sickly chocolate coins? A time when we practically combusted in anticipation of the big bearded man putting a Barbie with bendy legs under the tree? That’s what we’re here to discuss today. Where did that feeling go?
Somewhere between washing our own pants, paying council tax, and developing very strong ideas about kitchen storage, we grew up. And with adulthood came… practicality. Efficiency. Lists. Lists for our lists. Suddenly, Christmas became less sparkly joy and more a project management role that we never applied for. Here’s the thing: the wonder isn’t gone. It’s just hiding. Like socks in a washing machine, or your sanity in December. It’s still there – you just need to coax it out, gently, but deliberately.
So here’s your unofficial (but spiritually binding) guide to finding the childlike wonder of Christmas again:
1. Lower the bar. Lower it again. Keep going.
Children don’t expect perfection. They expect chaos wrapped in glitter. They are THRILLED by a lopsided tree. They love it when the wrapping paper is slightly torn. They accept that the biscuits will be burned because “mummy was dancing to Mariah” after a jug of seasonal fizz. But we, the adults, think if our house doesn’t look like a Scandinavian Pinterest board and we haven’t hand-foraged our own wreath, we’ve failed. No. Wonder comes from noticing, not perfecting. If your Christmas looks like a mash-up of tangled fairy lights, half-finished gift bags, and a fridge containing one sad bag of spinach and three types of cheese, congratulations. You’re already doing it! Failing with focus. It’s new and radical; I dare you.
2. Do one thing just because it feels nice
As adults we’ve become allergic to ‘pointless’ things. We need reasons and explanations; a justification for joy. Not this Christmas. Do one thing purely for the vibe:
· Wander outside at night just to stare at the lights like a confused Victorian ghost.
· Put cinnamon on something that absolutely does not require cinnamon.
· Watch The Holiday for the 47th time because Jude Law’s face is medicinal.
· Wear a jumper with a screaming reindeer on it. To a meeting.
Fun for the sake of fun = instant wonder.
3. Pretend… just a little
Kids believe wholeheartedly. We, however, believe in… data. Delivery windows. Cashback apps. Do one tiny, silly, whimsical thing that makes NO sense in adult-land. Write a note “from Santa” and hide it in your own cutlery drawer. Put carrots outside your door “for the reindeer”. Leave a chocolate coin on your pillow and gasp dramatically when you find it. You aren’t lying to yourself. You are playing. And play is where wonder hangs out.
4. Use your senses (preferably not all at once)
Wonder is a sensory experience. Kids live inside their senses. We live inside our heads – usually inside the worrying bit. Anchor yourself in the physical world of Christmas:
· Smell pine needles or a candle pretending to be pine needles.
· Touch a bauble (not the priceless heirloom one – you know your limits).
· Stand by the oven and breathe in the pastry.
· Put your face near a heater and pretend it’s a fireplace.
· The muck that’s been dragged indoors on tiny wellies – don’t lose it, breathe it in.
Your senses are little portals back to all the Christmases you’ve ever had and all the ones you’re about to make.
5. Allow tiny moments to be enough
The wonder isn't in the big cinematic stuff – the perfect family photo, the immaculate table, the £700 toy that transforms into a robot and possibly a vacuum cleaner. It’s in the small, unplanned moments: a thoughtful present shoddily wrapped. Someone laughing so hard they spill mulled wine on the tablecloth you secretly hate anyway. The way fairy lights make even your most chaotic corner look romantic. A quiet cup of tea on Christmas morning before the stampede begins. The magic was never meant to be grand. It was meant to be noticed.
6. Finally – let yourself enjoy it
This sounds obvious. It is not. Adults are expert-level joy blockers. We schedule delight for later, when the jobs are done, the house is clean, and the presents are wrapped (they never are – you will always remember one on the 24th at 11:58pm). It can be hard to let joy in, to feel it deeply – the intensity of love, contentment and happiness. These emotions are fleeting and hard to absorb, but let yourself feel them when they arrive at your door. Lock them in as a core memory. Give yourself permission to enjoy it in the middle of the mess. You are not the CEO of Christmas. You are a participant. A reveller. A big child with a debit card. Let yourself be delighted.
So there you go – your slightly unhinged pep talk for rediscovering the childlike wonder of Christmas. Not by recreating childhood, but by giving your current, grown-up, slightly frazzled self the freedom to feel joy again.
You deserve magic. You deserve sparkle. You deserve moments that make you gasp a bit.
Now go.
Stand under a string of fairy lights like the main character you absolutely are.
Love you wildly,
A x
Angela Scanlon is a broadcaster and writer. Subscribe to her Substack HotMessers here.