I grew up in a culture that, on the whole, does not pay much mind to the early days of January. You cross the threshold of New Year’s Day and then that’s pretty much it. If the Christmas tree hasn’t already been taken down, then that’s the day that it goes out the door. Not much else to look forward to—apart from the impending dread that is school or work.
As I got older though, I spent time in places that very much gave weight to the early days of the new year. January 6th is traditionally Epiphany, or Twelfth Night or Three Kings Day. It’s the day in Italy that is also the end to the holiday/vacation period. Folks take their Christmas tree down. You frame your mind to focus on the new year. For me, no matter whether you are Christian (or particularly religious at all), I have really grown to appreciate this particular stretch of days.
I am sure that I am not the only person who felt as though December steamrolled over their entire life. It’s kind of hard to avoid, given all of the get-togethers, Made-For-TV holiday movies with unattainable storylines, visitors, personal nostalgia and—of course—mixing your adult Self back in with i tuoi in close quarters. Throw in of course some quality virus action, and you’ve got yourself a December with a lot to bear physically, mentally and spiritually.
I’ve got it firmly in my head that right now, I have a good idea of what I want for the year ahead. A lot of it has to do with saying “no” to things that I really don’t want to do, alongside also drinking more water and getting rest. I say this because once again, I am discovering how absolutely curative the first week of January can be for my brain and body. Sure it is still quiet, as most folks are still away for the holiday break—but also, I haven’t had my life overscheduled. In fact, I haven’t really scheduled anything at all, apart from a “mini mission” to finally go down to Vatican City and see the Presepe (nativity scene) and the accompanying exhibit of 100 presepi.
This happened last year as well—I didn’t get down to the 100 Presepi in Vaticano until the day that it was closing. And it wasn’t until I arrived that I felt really excited to be there. Not just because it was a tradition that I had managed to maintain—but also because I really enjoy walking through the free exhibit and admiring all of the creative interpretations of the nativity scene from artists far and near. Even if you are not an observer of Christmas, I find this to be an activity well worth doing if you are in Rome over the holidays.
Before entering the exhibit, we took a look at the main nativity scene in St. Peter’s Square. I already knew that this year’s selection came from the village of Greccio, where 800 years ago there is reported to have been the first nativity scene. What I had forgotten was that the Greccio nativity scene was first established by St. Francis of Assisi—and this would explain why, to a casual observer, there were Franciscan monks now included at the scene of Jesus’s birth. Traditional yet not traditional, the large Presepe was set next to the obelisk and Christmas tree—this year covered in edelweiss. Even though I am well over the Christmas songs of 2023, I still found the sight to be magic.
Under the colonnade to the left is the entrance to the presepi exhibit. As you walk up the short ramp, there is a sign noting all of the countries that have contributed this year (of course, in addition to the Italian ones). I saw that Ireland had a contribution, so of course I was keen to see that one. But more than anything, I knew that I’d find delight in touring the entire collection and stopping to take a better look at where some of the more interesting ones came from.
My favorites, in no particular order, included: a terracotta scene from Guatemala, Italian contributions made of both pasta and out-sized moka coffee pot, a sculpture made of ceramic and two splinters from bombs dropped on the city of Kharkiv, a tiny ring containing a presepe from Messina in Sicily, a scene made from baseball kit (yes, it was Italian), and some others making statements without saying too much.
Here they are:
I have to say, this week has been pretty amazing as I’ve managed to slip back into a place that feels far more ripple-free. I still look at the news, still go to work, and still think about whatever is to come; I understand that life on a larger scale still has plenty of action. Plenty good and plenty bad. I try not to think of it all too much while I’m finding it easier to take long and thoughtful breaths in the run-up to the coming weekend and everything that comes after. There’s something to be said for carving out days after much of the world has already been through the high celebration moments.
I remember in Ireland when a friend first told me about “Nollaig na mBan”—also known as Women’s Christmas or Little Christmas. It also falls on 6 January, and it has gradually become a day for the women to take the day off after shouldering much of the rush that comes with “celebrating” the holiday season. It’s a lovely sentiment, and one that if anything else, helps to make space for an overworked brain. And yes, while I am in no way saying that the men are doing nothing over the holidays—I can testify to having many girlfriends juggling kids, work and life that indeed could take a page from this Irish tradition. Be allowed the chance to catch up with yourself a bit before the rest of the month grabs you by the neck.
I’m pretty cognizant of the fact that these remaining moments are fleeting. Before we all know it, god willing, once again I will find myself down in Vatican City (or maybe some hilltop town) and admiring what remains of the Christmas season. It’s a nice place to be, but in the months that will fill these two moments out, I am keen to be more cognizant of my own personal time and space. While December was bright and shiny for many reasons, I don’t want to spend the whole year running on a quarter tank and wondering if I’ve got enough to make it. I think the key is to carve out more spaces like this one, Little Christmases or pauses to take in something that you don’t get to witness every day. A nativity scene, or a walk in nature, or whatever it is that helps cool your brain. However you color it, greater space to breathe is something I think we could all do with for the year ahead.