Well, folks of the Midwest, the temperature dropped below 40 degrees this weekend, and you know what that means -- it's holiday season! Time to roll out those fuzzy socks, scarves, scented candles, and marshmallow hot chocolate (or apple cider and whiskey if you're feelin' frisky).

It may feel weird, or even wrong, to let yourself take pleasure in these upcoming joyful moments while our world is *literally* burning around us. I get that. It is strange. But, let be the first to say, we need this. Deeply. Take a minute to breathe in the crisp autumn air and let that smile crinkle your little noses. The only way we'll get through this together is by staying sane, and what better way to stay sane than to find happiness in the little things?

I know, I know. It's only October. I'll admit, up until this year I was that person who insisted on waiting to play Christmas music until December hit. Up until this year, I got angry that every single blessed department store played Jingle Bell Rock on the 1st of November. Up until this year, I wouldn't even touch a Christmas tree until after the family had gotten through Thanksgiving.

Guys. This season, for the past week and a half, I've jammed out to Christmas hits every single day... and it's not even Halloween.

Let me explain by saying this: my family has celebrated Christmas together every single year for the past 23 years my life, and beyond. I think there's a part of me that knows we may not all be able to get together on December 24th for dinner, and wake up together to drink hot coffee, slice into my aunt's gooey orange rolls, and share our gifts with each other on Christmas morning.

That part of me, I know, is feeling the deep nostalgia of my childhood Christmases creep into my memory. That part of me knows my brothers and I have somehow grown into adults and may have to work on the holidays. That part of me feels the stress of our ever-changing climate, the division of our nation, my looming college graduation, and an unplanned future.

That part of me wants to regress, sink back into the huge sofa at my parents' house, lay my head on my mom's lap, and go to sleep while Dad strums his guitar. That part of me is scared.

Then there's the part of me that's rocking out to Mariah Carey Christmas music all day every day. That part of me is joyous and optimistic, knowing I'll see at least some family soon, knowing there's an election on the horizon, knowing so many people are working hard to make a difference in our world today.

That part of me knows we're going to get through this. The season is changing, and no matter who you are, what holiday you celebrate, who you're voting for, or whether you prefer hot chocolate or apple cider, there is great relief in simply saying that. The season is changing, and we're going to get through this.