Every year, around this exact week, something predictable and heartbreaking begins to happen.
The festive lights switch on. The music gets louder while the malls erupt into glitter and noise.
And quietly, almost invisibly, people begin to fall apart.
Not because they don’t love the holidays.
Not because they don’t want joy.
But because the pressure to perform Christmas is heavier than anyone wants to admit. They google 5 tips to avoid overspending this Christmas but never dig into the roots of why they feel the need to spend in the first place.
I’m not here to use the usual generic “Don’t let holiday pressure overwhelm you” things and hoping it lands. It’s empty words, devoid of truth- and truth cannot be mass produced. Most content is neon lights, mine is meant to be a lantern.
The pressure to buy gifts and to “make it magical” forces people to pretend everything is fine. When something sacred, like celebrating the festive holidays- is reduced to a checklist, you’re not being guided - you’re being managed.
To create a moment the children will remember - even if it means January will be a battlefield.
And so the panic-buying logic begins:
Buy now.
Worry later.
Just get through the season.
Switch off your brain for a while.
Every year, you tell yourself this. Every year, you drown your intuition in noise.
Every year, you choose temporary light over the darkness you are afraid to walk through.
And yet…
The gifts bought lose their shine before the new year even settles.
The decorations come down.
The noise fades.
And you’re left in the same place as before -only now, the hole is deeper.
People don’t realise this truth:
The festive season is not bright because it is joyful.
It is bright because humans need light to distract themselves from the darkness they refuse to face. So instead of the usual “Focus on gratitude!” and “Enjoy the festive season wisely!” pieces of badly textured fluff, I’m providing you with a piece of truth instead.
Here is the paradox:
It is often darkest right before the dawn.
And dawn only comes to those who are brave enough to sit in the dark.
What if, this year, you didn’t numb yourself or drown the discomfort in spending?
What if you didn’t run from the shadows you’ve been carrying all year?
What if you looked at the truth before you looked at the price tags and didn’t blindly follow the “Avoid the Holiday Blues” advice to just focus on gratitude and clinging desperately to a positive mindset?
What if this year… you didn’t avoid the dark? But you descended on purpose? Real change doesn’t come wrapped in positivity ribbons, but from facing what you’ve avoided.
Welcome to the Five-Week Consumption Detox.
A different kind of journey. A shedding of the self that buys to feel alive and the awakening of the self that actually is. If someone calls this a budgeting lesson, they didn’t understand the descent.
The Descent Begins With What You Tried Not to Feel
There is a moment right after the frenzy ends when the lights dim, the adrenaline fades, the screens go quiet, and something inside you whispers:
“This isn’t who I want to be.”
It’s subtle, sacred and terrifying. The descent starts when you feel the hangover after the rush, the black Friday deals and the weight to compete and deliver. It is a hollow tug in your chest with a quiet discomfort you push aside.
A sense that you consumed a product, a promise, a piece of noise - that didn’t nourish you.
And now your wallet is empty, you feel full, but still starving.
Now is where growth demands honesty and honesty demands sacrifice. Every transformation begins in the aftermath. Because the truth is this:
Growth means it’s You vs You.
And one of you has to bow out.
Symbolically and psychologically- one of you needs to give over control to the other.
The self you built for survival-the one who numbs, copes, avoids, scrolls, panics, consumes-
cannot walk into the next version of your life. That self must dissolve so a stronger one can rise.
You see it echoed in ancient stories. Inanna, queen of heaven, walked into the underworld and passed through seven gates - each one stripping her of something she thought she needed:
her crown, jewels, authority, everything she built her identity around.
Jesus spoke of dying to the old self to be reborn in truth and light. Different cultures. Different symbols. Same message:
There is no rebirth without a willing surrender of who you were.
Here stands the archetype of courage that requires you to forfeit one in exchange for a new and improved version of yourself.
THE HANGOVER YOU CAN’T IGNORE
Whether you bought something or not, the Black Friday hangover is not financial but psychological. It’s the exhaustion, the pressure, noise with the endless calls to consume.
The silent fear that you are falling behind or failing at life if you don’t keep up. Some people drowned in it.
For the ones who stand slightly outside the chaos and whisper:
“There has to be more than this.” You’re not imagining that feeling.
What you’re experiencing is the early return of discernment- a taste for truth that hasn’t yet been numbed by noise. This is the sign that you are ready for more than budgeting tips and productivity hacks.
Get ready for the rejection of a false identity and the rebirth of a wiser one.
Discernment is the art of feeling the difference between what nourishes you and what consumes you. Between truth and mimicry and knowing the difference between an intuitive yes and a conditioned craving. And right now, your discernment is flickering awake.
For years, you’ve been fed:
But instinctively, you know:
Not all content is nourishment. Some of it is just noise.
Noise that drowns your instincts, numbs your clarity, hijacks your decisions all designed to keep you small. And if you consume enough of it your ability to sense authenticity fades.
Discernment is a muscle that can wither when fed junk.
The first week of the Consumption Detox is about consuming less noise so you can hear yourself again. Without discernment, you lose your direction.
WEEK ONE TASK: NOTICE WHAT YOU CONSUMED
Notice what you consumed emotionally and mentally:
Did you consume overwhelm? Noise? Pressure? Other people’s urgency? Content that numbed you? Shame? Meaninglessness?
Do not judge it or try to “fix” it.
Just acknowledge: “This is where I am.”
This is your starting point. This is your first surrender. This is your first truth.
And next Friday, we go deeper.
Because Week Two is where you learn
that the body digests information too.
And you’ve been eating noise for far too long.
Remember one thing, until next week, you are meant to breathe, not rush.