Untold Stories: A Holiday Reflection and Writing Prompt

Christmas 2022.

Only two years ago, and yet it feels like a lifetime. That’s because so many memorable things happened in 2022 (and honestly, 2023 and 2024 have been chock-full, too). But let’s focus on 2022—it’ll help you understand why Christmas that year was so important.

Let’s see: I got COVID twice. SMS began building the SEEQ Platform. I turned 50. I began making some important lifestyle changes – physically and mentally. I rediscovered my calling. I began working on improving my relationships with my spouse, my adult sons, and my in-laws. I traveled and spoke at several conferences around the country. We had a wonderful family vacation in Cape Charles, Virginia. We did some incredible client work at JMI and SMS. I started writing a series of stories and essays, Sojourn, America, that helped me explore community and unity more deeply. My oldest son ran his first 10K with my wife and me. We hosted a Hanukkah dinner party.

And my sister Maya died by suicide in June of that year, just six months before Christmas.

After Maya passed away, I spent much of the second half of 2022 in deep emotional archaeology—like my name was Indiana Jones. I was “writing down the bones,” as Natalie Goldberg puts it in her book by the same name, as I learned all those years ago, in way over my head, as I studied Creative Writing at Columbia University with Phyllis Raphael, and Raymond Kennedy, and others. I dug into my shared childhood with Maya, eventually tunneling back to the surface of my adulthood. I wrote it all: family trauma, childhood trauma, the wounds I’d experienced and the hurts I’d caused. You name it, I probably wrote about it. I was on a mission to unearth and unleash my story. I feel like I was doing my small part to bring to life the famous quote from Dr. Maya Angelou (whom my sister was actually named after): “there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.”

So by the time I reached the holidays that year, so much had transpired, and I had emptied myself so completely, that I was nearly on ‘e.’ But I couldn’t completely disengage. This Christmas was our first without Maya, and I needed to know that in my soul. It was tough on every level, especially for my kids. It also opened a floodgate of new emotions. (In some ways I still don’t fully understand, I felt both more alone and more connected than ever before or since.) I just remember Christmas morning being so painful, our first without her. But we made it through. I also remember us all being comfortable with whatever emotions came our way, letting it all come. We felt it all. And I think that was the key: we allowed ourselves to feel everything. In the midst of so much hurt, I started to grow.

At the time, I had no idea this emptying of myself, this telling of my untold story, would become so vital, so necessary for a future I had not yet even begun to contemplate. The next two years brought some of the lowest lows and some of the highest highs I’ve ever experienced. I needed to be free from my untold story, to see it outside of myself, so I could work with it, learn from it, embrace what I needed to, and release what no longer served me. So I could heal.

Truthfully, I’ve loved most of the Christmases I’ve had. Sure, there were a few sad ones (and I’m not even talking about 2022). Like the one I recently wrote about where I was super little, and my dad broke my train set in an alcoholic rage. Or the one where our family was so broke, all we could afford were turkey wings for Christmas dinner. Or the one where I was pretty much alone for Christmas. Or the first one after my mom passed away.

That said, there have also been so many love-filled joyous ones. Like when I gave two of the most meaningful gifts I could’ve ever given to my oldest son and my sister. Or the first one in our new home. Or just last year, when life and work were really, really challenging—but I leaned into finding joy and hope in the darkness. Or the years we spent with family and friends in New York City.

And yet Christmas 2022 stands out as the most impactful and perhaps the best one yet, because it enabled me to grow. To be better. To be here. Today.

A Holiday Wish for You

So my wish for you these last few days of 2024, as you experience the holidays and navigate the end of the year, is that you explore your untold story.

We all have untold stories. They are deeply, deeply intertwined with our most formative and impactful experiences. Good and bad, happy and sad, they are quite literally “all the things.”

So whether you’re celebrating Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, the recent Solstice, a different faith tradition, or no faith tradition at all; whether the holidays are a welcome respite for you, something you just want to get through, or a mix of joy and sadness as you reflect on those you’ve loved and lost, I hope this time gives you the space to let your untold story out.

And to nudge you along a bit, here’s some things to think about as you reflect: what story has been dwelling deep inside of you, yearning to be released? What story might you unburden yourself of?

If you need a bit more of a nudge, here’s a storytelling prompt to help:

What Christmas (or holiday) experience has had a significant impact on who you are today? What do you remember about that time? (Who was there, where were you?) What do you remember about your senses? Why do you think this memory stands out for you, and what have you learned from it?

I highly encourage you to write yours down. Write it, so you can see it as both a part of you and also apart from you.

I had to get to empty so I could fill back up with something else: purpose, clarity, connection, hope, joy… these are fueling me now, as I continue to grow, as I continue to heal, as I continue seeking to make a positive impact in my community and in the world, and as I lead our teams to help our customers make better experiences everywhere.

I wish you these things as you celebrate the holidays here at the end of 2024, and as you begin to look toward 2025. As your days become ever so slightly longer. As the seeds lying dormant now begin to germinate, preparing for the warmth of spring—a mere 90 days from now.

Tap into your untold story. Engage with yourself. Explore your experiences. Ask yourself questions for which you don’t yet have answers. That’s what will help you learn from your own story, and be ready for everything the next season of your life offers you.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays,
James