It's Tiiiiiime to Falalalala

The holidays hit different when you're grown, don't they?

I remember sitting in my apartment last December, scrolling through everyone's perfectly curated holiday content, feeling... nothing. No magic. No warmth. Just low-grade exhaustion and a vague sense that I was supposed to be feeling something I wasn't.

We blame capitalism. We blame commercialization, our schedules, our bank accounts. And listen, those critiques are valid. But they're also letting us avoid a harder truth:

I'm the one who has to create the vibe now.

The Magic Was Someone Else's Labor

Here's what takes most of us embarrassingly long to figure out: when we were kids, we weren't experiencing some inherent magic that lived in December itself. We were experiencing our parents' labor.

Someone was staying up after we went to bed wrapping presents. Orchestrating decorations that mysteriously appeared overnight. Baking at midnight. Planning meals.

Holding emotional space. And most importantly generating the energetic frequency that made winter feel like celebration instead of survival.

We absorbed all of that as ambiance. Like a soundtrack we never consciously registered. It just... was.

Then we became adults. And nobody handed us the script.

The disillusionment so many of us feel isn't really about lost innocence; it's about suddenly inheriting a responsibility we didn't know was coming. We keep waiting for that feeling to show up on its own, forgetting that someone used to actively create it for us.

My mom would play Christmas music starting the day after Thanksgiving. Not because she loved those songs, but because she was intentionally building atmosphere. She was working to generate warmth. And I just existed in it, assuming it would always be there.

It won't. Because now? I'm supposed to be the conjurer.

What Do You Actually Need?

Once you sit with the disappointment long enough, you arrive at something more interesting: if nobody's creating the vibe for you anymore, that means you get to decide what the vibe even is.

What do I actually need right now?

Not what tradition says. Not what your family expects. Not what your Instagram feed is doing.

What does your body need? Your nervous system? Your actual spirit during the coldest, darkest months of the year?

I asked myself this last year, expecting some profound answer. And you know what I got? Simple: I need to rest.

Winter Wants Us Still

Before capitalism convinced us December should be our most productive month—maximum socializing, spending, cheerfulness—others have understood winter differently.

Look at the natural world. Trees drop their leaves without apology. Bears sleep for months without guilt. The earth exhales and says: this is restoration time.

But we've been trained to resist our own biology. Capitalism demands identical output regardless of season. So the fourth quarter becomes this brutal gauntlet: work deadlines, social obligations, gift anxiety, family dynamics, year-end reviews, and through all of it—we're supposed to be joyful.

What If Falalalala Means Permission?

What if "falalalala" isn't a command to perform cheerfulness, but permission to honor what's actually true for you?

What if creating your own vibe means looking at your exhaustion directly and saying: the most magical thing I can do this season is rest? What if your holiday spirit looks like declining invitations that drain you? What if the warmth you're seeking only comes from lighting your own fire and sitting with it quietly instead of performing for others?

This is embodied resistance: refusing to let productivity culture colonize even your winter, even your celebrations, even your rest.

Creating your own vibe doesn't mean recreating childhood. It means asking what you need in this moment and having the courage to provide it.

Maybe that's a gathering with no gift exchange, just soup and conversation. Maybe it's buying yourself that thing you've been wanting. Maybe it's just sleeping more because your body has been begging for it and you're finally ready to listen.

The Magic You Create for Yourself

When my parents created that childhood magic, they were giving us something they weren't necessarily giving themselves. Now I get to do this differently. With full consciousness. With the ability to ask: what would actually nourish me?

And then: I get to provide that for myself.

This is the falalalala that actually matters. The song you hum when you stop feeling guilty about needing rest. The melody that emerges when you quit performing joy and start practicing real care.

Here's What I'm Thinking

You're not failing if you're tired. You're not broken if the magic feels distant. You're just at the threshold of a different kind of power; the power to create your own atmosphere, tend your own energy, be both architect and inhabitant of your own warmth.

Maybe it's time to stop trying to recapture what was and start discovering what could be.

Maybe it's time to falalalala your way into radical rest. Into unapologetic boundaries. Into the quiet magic of finally giving yourself what you actually need instead of what you think you should want.

The vibe you're searching for? You're the one who gets to create it now.

And honestly? That might be the most grown, most powerful kind of magic there is.

Until next time,

Tricky Sol