How Traditions Cultivate Intimacy in Your Relationship

How do traditions deepen the intimacy you feel with your partner? And when is it time to let go of a tradition?

Cinnamon rolls remind me to be grateful. When my children were young, my husband and I lived in the same town as both our parents. With divorce on both sides, we had a lot of houses to visit on Thanksgiving Day. We’d bundle babies in layers upon layers of snowsuits and head out the door.

We’d unbundle, eat, drink and be merry for a few hours only to rebundle and head off to the next home to unbundle and eat again. Making the family hop didn’t always leave a period of time dedicated to counting our blessings. It was this compacted holiday schedule that inspired me to find a way to teach my children to give thanks on Thanksgiving.

I decided to bake cinnamon rolls.

On Thanksgiving morning, still in our jammies, my little family gathered to fold tiny squares of tissue paper into even tinier triangles. We take snips of tissue paper here and there between bites of our hot-out-of-the-oven rolls and unfold the triangles to let the mystery snips reveal a fairy’s treasure. Onto these fairy whisper snowflakes we wrote the names of people who made our year particularly gratifying.

It is easy to think of something I’m grateful for that happened yesterday. And I’m always grateful for my family. But coming up with something unique about each particular year of my life is a bigger mental puzzle. Each of us learned to look at the big picture as we licked our sticky fingers.

Click here to listen to listen to this blog.

 

The start of a family tradition

When he was two years old my son was particularly grateful for the trash truck that pulled up to our student housing apartment. He didn’t need to articulate this to me. The gymnastics he performed on the kitchen table told me how thrilled he was to see that dinosaur-looking behemoth extend its fingers into the dumpster, haul it fifteen feet in the air and make that tremendous crashing sound of metal on metal.

To a two-year-old who requested the TRUCKS book every day before napping, this truck appearing just outside our window every day was nothing short of miraculous. So the trash truck driver went onto one of our snowflakes.

In order to let people know their names adorn our decorative snowflakes we offer them some of the cinnamon rolls we’ll eat while we speak their name and offer thanks for their presence in our lives. We hand out our tin foil bundles in the days before Thanksgiving so people will know we’re mentioning them as we eat these same little yummies.

I can assure you the trash truck driver had never before received such enthusiastic gratitude. He had no idea he was the main event in my son’s life nor that his daily presence brought such joy. After that he waved toward our kitchen window as he went about moving levers and pushing buttons to make that tremendous crashing noise.

 

A tradition of gratitude and giving

My mechanic was equally surprised to find me handing him a package of tin foil with instructions to warm it on Thanksgiving morning. I had just moved my family to Omaha where my husband would spend four years in school. Money was tight and our cars were not.

My car was wandering all over the lane on the freeway and I knew something had to be done. I cringed when I took my little blue car to his garage afraid of how the unexpected bill would sink me. But he called two hours later having filled my tires with air. No charge. He “no-charged” me not less than four times before there was a legitimate bill for me to pay upon pick-up.

I had no hesitation giving him boat loads of money after that because I knew I could trust him. It was this trust, when I felt adrift, for which I was so grateful.

I’ve given cinnamon rolls to bank tellers and best friends, people who’ve welcomed us to a new place without knowing it and people who’ve sat at our dining room table to play cards or drink wine for years and years. A transformation has always taken place in the wake of handing out our simple package of kneaded dough.

 

Everyone wants to be needed

Knowing they made a difference to me or to my family brings a spark of ignition. A new life glows between us. Sometimes our cinnamon rolls recognize relationships where there has been lots of history. Sometimes they abolish the invisible wall between strangers. Always there’s a recognition that these people mattered, and that creates a little altar of human dough between us.

I find it ironic that the crazy days when I was hopping from house to house to connect with all our family members brought me this tradition of connecting to the larger world around me. It helps me remember to be grateful even for the things in life I think I want to hop over.

 

So what did this tradition do for my marriage and my family?

The primary thing was that it let me feel autonomous: like I was shaping the family of my dreams.

While I didn’t enjoy the hectic pace of the family hop, I DID enjoy seeing all our family members. So I didn’t want to do away with the visiting. But I felt unsettled. The way we spent the day of Thanksgiving didn’t match my values of what it meant to BE thankful.

I wanted to teach my children to LOOK for the people who make your life wonderful. I think a tiny present is a great vehicle to let someone know you see them and you see the way they’ve impacted your life.

In retrospect, it might have been kinder to my young, overwhelmed self to create a tradition of simplicity rather than dough that rises twice, but I’ll confess: I LOVE cinnamon rolls and I’m not a huge fan of the traditional Thanksgiving food. So maybe it was just my way of eating something I truly loved that day as well.

 

How to know when it’s time to let a tradition go

Sometimes creating a tradition is what will serve your family.

But sometimes it’s getting rid of a tradition that is the strongest move to increase the intimacy in your relationship.

I grew up in a house where we decorated Christmas cookies. Frosting and sprinkles spread artfully onto a sugar cookie takes me right back and I can hear my mother’s laugh every single time the Santa cookie cutter comes out of the tin, “This looks nothing like Santa,” she’d say every year.

But every year we’d bake a few Santas along with bells and stars and reindeer.

I wanted to repeat the tradition when I had kids. But my son hated sitting still. And I hated hearing myself say, “You need to decorate your cookies.” Why? Why did he need to do this thing he didn’t enjoy? What kind of memory is that making?

So we tossed out cookie decorating in favor of wading waist deep in a snowy forest to cut down a tree. My family loves adventure and the outdoors. I remember the time my son took us on a treasure hunt of animal prints in the snow and it felt like we were a part of the story the forest was telling.

 

How can you change a tradition to fit your family?

I’ve heard from people who are terrified of decorating a tree because, when they were growing up, if a bauble broke, they were shamed. So this client made a point of celebrating with cheers each time a bauble hits the ground and breaks. Their tradition cultivates a value of forgiveness.

Another of my clients realized she didn’t really hate her Aunt, she just hated being made to eat the aspic salad her aunt brought to holiday gatherings. So she makes Jello Jigglers filled with sugar and pineapple that inspires giggles. She reclaimed a tradition that made her gag and, instead, now she guffaws.

We want to create traditions that match our values, make a strong memory, and connect us to the people we love.

Values help you cultivate a tradition for your relationship

What values does your family want to celebrate? What tradition are you holding onto that doesn’t match the values you want to cultivate?

Sometimes a value is driven home most easily by creating a holiday that is the exception to your every-day rules. Our kids were brought up in a low to no sugar household. I remember when the kids were embarrassed to have friends over because I offered fruity tea rather than soda pop.

But once a year, we had a HUGE party and we called it Decadent Day. We invited all our friends over for a sugar feast. There was a prize for the dessert that was most disguised to look like regular food. We had hamburgers made from Vanilla Wafers, Thin Mints, and red and yellow frosting with a piece of green fruit leather to simulate lettuce.

This Decadent holiday gave me a great opportunity as a mom to say “Yes” instead of “No,” when my kids asked for some sugary candy. “Oooh! That’s a great idea! Let’s remember that for Decadent Day.” Meanwhile we cultivated a healthy diet which is a fundamental thing I wanted my kids to be served at our dining room table.

With the tradition of Decadent Day we cultivated a value of moderation. Healthy food is good for everyday living, but anything is OK some days.

 

Relationship traditions take mindfulness. Be patient.

It takes time to cultivate a tradition. The first few times you try something, it won’t have all the warm and fuzzy feelings of a tradition. That’s OK. Traditions become magical because of their repetition and because something memorable happens during them.

I have always loved cutting a Christmas tree. And then there were a few years when I was questioning my values while cutting a tree. I value our planet and the health of our planet. Is cutting a tree in line with that value, I asked myself.

So there were several years when our Christmas tree was an old dead branch or bunch of branches tied together, then decorated to make it look more festive. Those were some funky…trees. And Christmas felt a little *off* to me.

But here’s the great thing about getting a tradition *wrong:* All those funky trees helped me realize I really do like everything about a Christmas tree. I love the smell. I love the lights. I love the fresh, cold, winter tromp through the woods. And doing it *wrong* helped me see what felt *right.*

 

Give yourself permission to mess up

Now, every year when my son and his family come up the mountain to where we live and we all tromp through the waist deep snow, my son and I share a laugh about the pitiful years when the Christmas trees were lame.

We always cut a tree that is scrawny and not gonna make it in the forest. We’d never cut a tree that is living a great life with its tree friends. Thinning a forest helps other trees to grow. So, when we cut our Charlie Brown tree and drag it out of the woods, we are celebrating the totality of our values.

And getting it wrong is great, because it helps you realize what you want to do better the next time. This is actually the power of a tradition: it helps you understand your personal values and the values you share as a family.

Let’s take these relationship questions and explore them a bit deeper

What values do you want you tradition to cultivate?

• Appreciation of nature?
• Sense of adventure?
• Quiet, home, and gratitude?
  Play, artistry, and something we made together?

The cool thing about a relationship tradition is that it’s a fun way to engage what’s most important to you and create an intentional practice that celebrates those values.

 

What do you remember about traditions in your family of origin?

Family of origin conversations contain deep emotions. Be patient and tread lightly with your partner. This isn’t about whose family does it *right* and *wrong.* This discussion is about having room to imagine your new life with your partner a bit differently than the home in which you grew up.

Name a couple traditions in your family of origin, or notice that traditions weren’t your family’s strong suit.

What did you honestly enjoy about those traditions? And here, I want to stress that you notice what YOU enjoyed. If I am honest, Christmas left a hole in my stomach as a child. Christmas was a time that I was acutely aware of my parents’ divorce.

 

Christmas in my family of origin

The first few Christmases with my father and new step-mother and her three kids, I felt like an outsider. At my mother’s house, homemade gifts were really celebrated. I remember two gifts I made as a child that elicited a huge eye roll from my new siblings.

Yes, they were dreadful. But I was 12 years old! I’m allowed to make a calendar that is filled with terrible pictures of me. 12-year-olds are self-centered and that’s age appropriate. But there was a different value at that house and I was keenly aware that I was doing it wrong. That vulnerability left an icky taste in my mouth and soured the part of me that loved making handmade gifts.

However, stockings were a huge celebration in both of my homes growing up. At my father’s home, my step-mother made gorgeous, healthy food. She taught me the power of treating your body well with tasty, yet nutritious natural foods. Sugar, however, was a scarce commodity. And that was a good thing for everyday living, but those stockings were filled with sugary treats. And the rarity of those treats added to the joy.

Because I had positive associations with stockings at both the homes when I grew up, stockings are my favorite Christmas tradition.

What do you want to carry forward from your family’s traditions? And the corollary to that question is what traditions do you want to reinvent?

 

What things do you and your partner honestly enjoy doing together?

A tradition shouldn’t feel like drudgery. It should inspire connection and joy. So begin with things you enjoy doing. If you and your partner like to keep things simple, don’t enter the holiday lights competition in your neighborhood.

However, if you both love the artistry of turning your front yard into a winter wonderland, take time to notice that you’re having fun as you make this memory.

There are no rules. So you get to let your desire guide you.

If you enjoy baking and delivering treats to all your neighbors, batter up! If your partner doesn’t enjoy baking, ask them if they’d enjoy reading to you while you bake.

And if the answer is just “No,” respect your partner’s desires. There are no rules when it comes to cultivating a relationship tradition. Talk about what you enjoy. Talk about the home you want to make for your children. Talk about the memories you hope to create.

Here’s an example:

Make a plan. Break the tradition down into steps. For my cinnamon roll tradition there were several steps:

1. Several days before baking the cinnamon rolls, we had a family discussion about who would receive them this year.
2. I was typically the baker, though, as my daughter got older, she enjoyed helping me. And in later years, when the tradition was truly established, my whole family sat at our kitchen island chatting with me while I rolled dough and sprinkled cinnamon.
3. Next, we needed to wrap up those rolls in foil and write a card of explanation and gratitude.
   Fourth, we picked a time to deliver them.
4. And, lastly, we sat at our table, eating those yummy cinnamon rolls and cut out our snowflakes, talking about the people who had enriched our lives in the past year.

How about you?

What are the steps in your tradition? It doesn’t need to be complicated, but it helps to understand who is doing what. When you leave this step untended, one person in the relationship tends to do the bulk of the task and that not only sews seeds for later resentment, it’s not cultivating the relationship tradition that is your goal.

I want to hear about what you decide. What memories do you cherish? What traditions will you let go? Text me at 970-210-4480 and include me in the journey that is your happily ever after.