The holidays tend to trigger — in all of us — all sorts of uncomfortable stuff.

Today’s Ask Havi comes from a woman in an especially tough spot.

I will do what I can to come up with a kind of abridged survival guide to help her through this lonely time.

And if you would read her words and send her some love and affection and warmth … that would be a wonderful, beautiful thing.

Hi Havi. This is an “ask Havi” email. This is me trying to meet myself where I am and to ask for help. It’s hard!

But given that you’re a great advice-giver and have experience offering support around yoga/meditation routines, I thought I’d see.

I am grieving. The December holiday is grueling for me in so many ways. The long and short of it is my mother passed away 5 years ago a couple weeks before Dec 25. Since then, I avoid that holiday like the plague.

My father passed away a few years before her. My sister has moved to a dingy, dark single-wide trailer on a dirt road in the bowels of Maine with a husband I dislike. And traveling this time of year makes me shudder.

I moved away from the west coast and my lovely friends/family a few years ago, and I’m a poor grad student and can’t get back there this time of year. So I feel totally stuck.

My gentleman friend is away over the holidays, and I didn’t want to glum-up his holiday with my gloominess and brooding. So I’m alone (well, I have a pug dog).

My question (after that mini-life story) is what strategies would you recommend with respect to meditation/yoga to get “through” those difficult days?

I have practiced vinyasa yoga for years, so I’m experienced (whatever that means), and I have a meditation altar set up in my bedroom. I try to sit for a few minutes a day, but it’s usually in my office at work rather than at home!

Gah, sorry this is longer than I meant it to be. I was considering following the meditation mini-retreat Susan Piver lays out in How Not to be Afraid of Your Own Life, but I don’t know her from jack. I feel like I “know” you better.

Do you have any suggestions for a specific routine that would help me make a home within myself for the holidays?

Thanks as always for your fun and challenging insights!

Let’s just start with a hug.

Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry.

Sounds like you’re feeling really anxious that your sadness is going to … I want to say “devour you”, that might not be the right phrasing … to be too much for you.

So I just want you to know that we’re all here witnessing your losses and your sadness, and sending you comfort. You’ve been through a lot of hard.

And right now is where you’re really experiencing it, so you are right to ask for help.

Memories, loneliness, sadness, isolation, not knowing, a whole bunch of shoulds.

You already know what you need.

You already know what you need.

In fact, you’ve already zeroed in on the biggest point that I could make. That this is not about solving something or fixing something. That it’s about — in your own words — something that would help you “make a home within myself for the holidays.”

To help me make a home within myself.

Making a home within myself. That concept is so so beautiful. And that is exactly the point.

I had a spiritual teacher in Tel Aviv. But before she was my teacher, my friend Sivan dragged me to a lecture of hers.

I didn’t want to go. I wanted to sit around drinking tea and feeling sorry for myself, but once I realized that Sivan wasn’t going to let up, I made a wish that I’d get some sort of insight into my immigrant-trauma “I never feel at home” issues.

And the first thing this woman said was “If you don’t feel at home in yourself, you’ll never feel comfortable anywhere.”

Making a home inside yourself is big crazy deep life work. I’m not going to make any promises. I’m just glad we have a direction. So let’s see what we can do.

Time for a plan!

Here’s what you’re going to need.

• A cute pug dog. Check.
• Candles. Lots of them.
• Music that you like.
• A notebook or journal.

We have a couple of goals here.

One is pure survival. We want to get you through this slice of hard in one piece. But another goal is to begin creating the kind of rituals that will support you in the process of making this home within yourself. A support network of rituals.

Here are the rules:

1. If it feels loving and supportive, do it. If it doesn’t feel loving or supportive, you don’t have to.
2. This is your time. It’s for you. It’s for your healing-up time. You get to call the shots.
3. You’re allowed to ask for help.

A couple of things to consider …

Change the name.
Instead of thinking of this holiday time only in the sense of “crap, I need to keep it together”, can we rename it?

Can this be a chunk of time that you are consciously, actively taking in order to work on some of your pain by giving yourself rest and love?

Can we make this a kind of healing vacation from life? Instead of this being about abandonment and emptiness, can we also make it be a time for intentional cocooning?

Extend your practice.
You already have a strong regular yoga practice. Set a specific time for it.

Maybe you’ll want two practices a day since you’re doing this self-retreat thing. Maybe one will need to be a bit softer and the other a bit more vigorous. You’ll see.

Make sure you have music you like. Candles. Create a sanctuary.

Soften your practice.
In addition to the grounding that your yoga will be giving you, you’re going to need some extra shavasana.*

*Intentional relaxation time, for those of you who don’t do the whole yoga thing.

When things are tough — actually, before they get tough if you can catch it in time — recline on the floor and cover yourself with a bunch of blankets. Remind yourself that you are giving yourself time to breathe.

You’re giving yourself time to figure out what this new internal home is going to look like. How it’s going to feel. What you’re going to need.

Don’t force the meditation.
If you feel drawn to it or you feel like it’s helping then yes. Use it. But really, this whole week is about introspection, reflection, quietude. And it’s for you.

So no need to overdo it. No need to turn it into a should. If you’re able to sit quietly and breathe, give yourself this time. And if not, that’s fine too.

Write write write.
Get out that journal.

I’m a big fan of just scribbling it all out, but if you’d prefer some more structure, here are some “assignments” (writing prompts) that you can work with over the coming week if you’d like:

• Describe your new internal home. What does it look like? What will it look like? How does it feel to be there? How would you like to feel while you’re there?
• Write a letter to your loneliness. Tell it what you’re going to need in order to move through this. Ask it what it needs to tell you in order to start healing.
• Create a list of all the internal and external resources and sources of strength that you have available to you.
• Make a wishlist of the qualities and experiences you would like to access, receive or have in your life in the coming year.

Dance dance dance.
Turn up the music. Close the curtains. Turn off the lights. Leave a couple candles so you don’t trip over stuff.

And rock the hell out.

And don’t forget to ask for help!
Let people in on your pain. They don’t have to soak in it or anything, but they need to know that it’s there.

Tell your gentleman friend about some of what you’re going to. Does he even know that you care for him so much that you would never want to glum up anything for him?

Does he know that you might need to call him and that you might be feeling sad, but that it’s also important to you that he enjoy his holiday time?

I know it’s hard to share these things, but anyone who is going to share other parts of your life needs to know when you need extra love and support.

Maybe the perfect Christmas present from your west coast friends might just be a phone call. Ask for one. You’re allowed to say “Listen, I feel like crap and I’ll probably just cry the whole time and it won’t be any fun for you, but I’d love it if you would call because I could really use some cheering up.”

This is one of the hardest things to ask for, as we don’t want the people who love us to worry or to see how weak we’re feeling.

But really, that is what friends are for. That’s one of the reasons that we create friendships. You would totally show up to handhold and be a shoulder to cry on for any of them. Part of friendship also means asking for what you need.

From them and from yourself.

I think you’re going to be okay.

This is the hard part. You’re right there in the hard.

Every truly interesting person in this world goes through the hard. You’ll come through on the other side. And not only that, but you’ll have a safe home inside of you that you can always count on.

We’re all with you. We’re all going to be thinking of you and rooting for you and sending more love and support to your Internal Retreat.

And I’ll be giving you a copy of Emergency Calming Techniques as a Christmas present. Read the ebook later for extra destuckification. For now, just listen to one of the audio recordings every day before bed and when you wake up. And whenever else as needed.

You’re a strong, creative, thoughtful person. I can tell that just from reading your email and not knowing a single thing about you. You’re going to be okay.

Thanks to everyone else for witnessing this pain and this process.

And you know, I find it oddly reassuring that people who have never met me or even emailed still feel like they know me well enough to trust that this space — the one that we’re all making together — can actually help.

Wishing strength, comfort, love, support and whatever else you need to every single person who reads this.