“By the Book” or “Our Own Way” – What Kind of Holidays Do We Choose and Why?

Agnieszka begins preparing for the holidays as early as the end of November, because she likes to feel that everything has its own rhythm and order. On the weekends leading up to Christmas, she bakes homemade gingerbread cookies, which she later decorates with her children using colorful icing. She plans gifts in advance, believing that the care put into choosing them is a way of showing love and respect for her loved ones. For Agnieszka, ordering Christmas Eve dishes is out of the question. In her view, homemade food gives the holidays their distinctive flavor and highlights their special atmosphere. Making pierogi or baking cakes is also a perfect opportunity to spend time with her daughters, to whom she can pass down the recipes preserved in her family for generations. The number of dishes served on Christmas Eve is non-negotiable - no more, no less than twelve. And in Agnieszka’s home, a real Christmas tree is a must. Its unmistakable forest scent filling the rooms is worth the daily sweeping of fallen needles. Decorating the tree is an important holiday ritual - almost every ornament carries sentimental, family meaning for Agnieszka. Some decorations she hung as a little girl in the home of her grandmother, who is no longer with them.

All the carefully planned preparations are meant to ensure that on this one special day, her entire close and extended family will sit together at the table in peace, harmony, and mutual understanding. And with the sense that everything truly is buttoned up to the last detail. From Christmas Eve morning, carols play through the speakers, and the whole house is filled with a mixture of scents: fried fish, sweet vanilla, strong beet soup, and freshly polished floors in the living room. On this day, Agnieszka pays attention to every detail, because she wants her family to feel part of something bigger than just a three-day holiday. For her, what matters is the atmosphere, the ritual, and the repeatability that brings a sense of certainty in an uncertain world. She believes that the holidays are meant for slowing down. She is convinced that the familiar and well-worn brings people the most peace. She doesn’t need modern accents, because she values the simplicity of old and time-tested traditions. Only one more thing remains: the obligatory evening screening of Home Alone, and at midnight — despite the fatigue — one can head to the Midnight Mass to close the celebration of Christmas Eve in a spiritual and symbolic way.

Jacek starts thinking about Christmas only when his friends ask whether he’s doing “Christmas his way” again this year. He doesn’t look for carp because he can’t stand the bones. In fact, he doesn’t even like the taste of it. He limits gifts to symbolic tokens or doesn’t give them at all, because in his view, the most valuable holiday gift is free time and good energy. There is no frantic running around or deep cleaning in Jacek’s apartment, because he keeps a minimalist order every day. A Christmas tree? Yes, but artificial, simple, Scandinavian-style, decorated with whatever happens to be within reach. Jacek doesn’t plan the holidays a month in advance — he much prefers to improvise. Instead of a family Christmas Eve on the other side of the country, he chooses a gathering with friends who, like him, want to rest during these days, enjoy good food, and just be together. The holiday menu is a combination of whatever each guest brings or orders: no one is surprised that a bowl of ramen sits next to the beet soup, and the pierogi are stuffed with lentils or spinach instead of cabbage and mushrooms. No one even attempts to count the “Christmas Eve dishes,” nor does anyone leave an empty place at the table — though Jacek’s home is open to anyone. Unless, of course, instead of meeting friends, he chooses a spontaneous trip to the mountains the moment he realizes he needs peace and quiet. 

For Jacek, the holidays mean relaxation, time for himself, catching up on books or shows, and walking the dog. He adapts the Christmas season to himself, not the other way around. He does everything by choice, not out of habit. Meeting with friends is, for him, a way of building his own “holiday family,” which gives him a sense of belonging. His Christmas Eve is less formal, more intimate, and free of pressure. He doesn’t worry about what others might think. During the holidays, he simply wants to feel good in his own skin, and he usually visits his parents a few days later — once the aunts who annoy him, the cousins who irritate him, and the rest of the distant relatives with whom he has no contact have vanished from the family home like the smell of that awful carp. 

Agnieszka and Jacek are both in their thirties, live in the same city, and perhaps even pass each other in the same shops, yet they spend December in completely different ways. She holds on to rituals because in them she finds stability and a sense of community. He chooses freedom, because he feels best outside conventions and imposed rules. And although their Christmases have very few points of connection, it’s impossible to deny the logic and value in both approaches. Tradition provides a sense of rootedness; modernity offers breathing space. One is not better than the other, just as there is no single version of “proper celebrating.” And when we look beyond the Christmas Eve table, we can see that this is what our everyday life looks like too: each of us moves between what is familiar and what is our own, searching for balance in our own way and according to our needs and expectations. Is it better to stick to tried-and-true patterns or to follow our own path? Why do some of us need rituals, while others prefer to reinvent the world? And what truly gives us a deeper sense of fulfillment — loyalty to tradition or the courage to seek our own solutions?

Tradition Is Sacred. And Not Only on Holidays

Even though more and more people try to enrich tradition with modern elements, most Poles still stick to the patterns they know from their family homes. Research by CBOS shows that instead of experimenting, we continue to rely on what is generally associated with Christmas: 98% of respondents share the Christmas wafer, 97% prepare traditional dishes, and 96% decorate the Christmas tree. These numbers show that regardless of the pace of life and the growing popularity of modern forms of celebration, we still choose what we know and what we commonly associate with Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. In many homes, twelve dishes, hay under the tablecloth, and an empty seat at the table still appear. Perhaps not as often as before, but we still sing carols together and attend Midnight Mass. The holidays thus become a moment when Poles — even those who identify as non-religious — return to the patterns of their childhood. This reflects a need for repetition: a safe rhythm that, once a year, puts reality in order. Holiday tradition also facilitates communication — it is, in a way, a universal language that helps us understand one another more easily. After all, we sit at the table with different beliefs, opinions, life choices, and interpretations of the world, yet what binds us despite these differences is our participation in the same behaviors, gestures, and rituals. Even those who live in a modern way return to what is familiar during the holidays, because it is then — more than ever — that we seek stability. Therefore, although slow changes in holiday practices are noticeable, such as the increasing tendency to order ready-made dishes or to celebrate Christmas Eve outside the home, the foundation — tradition — remains incredibly strong. Beneath the layer of new trends and evolving styles of celebration lies the enduring need to return to things that are simple, familiar, and repeatable.

Tradition, however, has a much broader dimension than just December rituals — it functions like an invisible axis around which our everyday life is woven. What is familiar gives us a sense of stability: we know what to expect, and the brain doesn’t have to constantly analyze new stimuli and make additional decisions. Psychologists point out that rituals — whether they involve holidays, Sunday dinners, or recurring anniversaries — lower stress levels because they bring predictability and a sense of control. For many people, tradition therefore serves as an emotional anchor: it protects against the chaos of the modern world, gives life rhythm, and allows us to pause the constant rush of everyday life. It is also a tool for building identity — family, local, and cultural traditions make us feel part of a continuity, included in a larger story than the one we create on our own. Research on psychological well-being shows that people who surround themselves with stable rituals more often report a sense of belonging and greater satisfaction with their social relationships. Tradition also acts as a filter: we choose from it what gives us peace, what we understand, and what strengthens bonds. That is precisely why we most willingly return to the patterns we know — even though the world encourages innovation, change, and creativity. Interestingly, tradition often paradoxically becomes stronger when life accelerates: the more uncertainty it contains, the greater the need for things that “are always the same.” This does not mean that tradition doesn’t evolve — its forms, meanings, and interpretations shift — but the core remains intact. This rootedness becomes one of the foundations of mental health, because it allows us to feel that despite the changes surrounding us, there is something enduring that requires no explanation or justification. Tradition does not trap us but rather works like a map — showing where we come from and what we can follow so as not to lose ourselves in a world that is often too fast and too loud.

Modern — Meaning: Your Own Way

On one hand, we like familiar rituals; on the other, we increasingly reach for solutions that make life easier and allow us to experience the December holidays in our own way. According to an e-commerce report on Poland, as many as 77% of internet users buy Christmas gifts online, choosing convenience over queues. We are also modifying the Christmas Eve menu increasingly often — research by TGM Research 2024 shows that 61% of Poles incorporate modern elements into holiday dishes, and some say they enjoy experimenting in the kitchen or using ready-made options. The number of people who choose to spend Christmas Eve away from home — on a trip or with a different group — is also growing. According to the “Christmas Wallet of Poles 2024” report, about 20% of Poles planned to spend the holidays outside the home. There is also the rising popularity of holiday catering — restaurants and bars see noticeable increases in December orders, because many people prefer to devote time to rest rather than to a full day (or several days) of cooking. These shifts show that alongside traditional scenarios, a modern, more flexible version of the holidays is emerging — one in which the focus is not on recreating old patterns but on creating a schedule that suits our expectations and needs.

A modern approach offers choice: we don’t have to stick to twelve dishes if some remain untouched and end up in the trash right after the holidays. We don’t have to spend Christmas in our family homes if it brings stress and if a small gathering in our own space gives us more peace. More people are discovering that the holidays can be a form of celebration — but not necessarily according to a prescribed model. Instead of traditional carp — baked salmon; instead of Midnight Mass — an evening walk around the city; instead of lavish gifts — symbolic tokens or no gifts at all. This is not a rejection of tradition but a reinterpretation: dressing it in a form that aligns with our current emotional needs. In a world where work is often remote, families are dispersed, and the pace of life is fast, people increasingly look for holidays that offer relief rather than add to exhaustion. Modernity thus becomes a way to find peace without external pressure. In this way, we do not adapt the holiday script — we write it ourselves.

Modernity is not just a change in how we celebrate — it is a way of thinking about life. More people reject fixed patterns in order to care for their mental health and emotional balance. Psychologists emphasize that “autonomous rituals,” meaning those we create ourselves, clearly reduce stress because they provide a sense of agency. We don’t do something because everyone before us did it, but because it has meaning for us. Modernity is not about denying tradition — it is about not letting tradition decide for us. In practice, this means that we increasingly adapt our daily habits to our lifestyle: Sunday lunch is not an obligation but an opportunity to meet — if we have the capacity for it; a ritual can be a morning walk, a coffee at a favorite café, a workout, or even intentional “doing nothing.” Such contemporary rituals build a sense of stability, but in a more flexible way than classical traditions. Research on psychological well-being shows that people who create their own customs and align them with their values report greater satisfaction and less pressure. This is why modernity has so many supporters: it allows us to live according to our own definition of peace. Creating new rituals becomes a response to contemporary challenges — fragmented relationships, rapid work rhythms, and a constantly shifting environment. When the world is in constant flux, the ability to create one’s own routine becomes a kind of defense mechanism. And just as tradition once structured our lives, today modernity increasingly does the same — only on our terms, at a pace that truly supports us, and in a form that reflects who we are.

Different Generations, Different Approaches to Tradition

How we understand tradition and modernity often depends on the time in which we grew up. Older generations were raised in a more predictable world, one more strongly rooted in family and local communities. Rituals were a constant element of their social life — they offered a sense of safety and cohesion at a time when changes happened more slowly and didn’t affect so many areas of life at once. Younger generations, however, are growing up in a completely different landscape: a fast pace of life, digitalization, labor migration, studying far from home, remote work, and greater psychological awareness. It’s no surprise that their approach to the holidays is more flexible — from childhood they have lived in a world where making choices and constantly adjusting them is natural. For the older generation, tradition is stability. For the younger — something that can be freely interpreted and improved.

Generational differences extend far beyond the holiday table — they are visible in everyday routines, in the workplace, in how people rest, and in how they organize their lives. Older generations more often associate stability with regularity, hierarchy, and predictable responsibilities, while younger people perceive stability as a space where they can make their own decisions and change direction whenever they need to. One group grew up in a world where the most important thing was “to have a secure profession,” while the other grew up in a world that demands flexibility and constant adaptation. This is why what we encounter daily are not just different lifestyles but different definitions of what “normal” means. Older generations think in terms of consequences and duty; younger generations — in terms of freedom and sincerity. Some trust in the power of clear rules; others trust in the power of clear communication. Some need presence “here and now,” face-to-face; others can build a sense of closeness in online spaces, where relationships do not fade but pulse to the rhythm of notifications.

This clash does not have to lead to conflict — on the contrary, intergenerational psychology shows that groups with differing experiences create more balanced environments, provided they are able to acknowledge the importance of each other’s perspectives. In the workplace, this means that the experience and loyalty of older workers can form the foundation, while the creativity and technological fluency of younger ones can drive growth. In private life, these differences help us learn new ways of experiencing the world: older generations show the younger how to stay rooted in relationships, while younger generations teach the older that change can be an opportunity, not a threat. Modern life, however, requires one key element without which such dialogue cannot succeed — curiosity. When instead of judging we attempt to understand, it turns out that generations are not opposing poles but two sources of competence that only together create a full picture of the world. This makes it easier to reconcile differences — and even easier to see the value in them, both during the holidays and in everyday life.

At the Intersection of Tradition and Modernity

Although tradition and modernity are often presented as two opposing poles, more and more people are discovering that these worlds can not only coexist but actively support and influence one another. Many psychologists point out that the most stable way of functioning is one that combines rootedness with flexibility — a sense of continuity with the possibility of modification. We see this in everyday life: families that once met exclusively for Sunday dinners now combine traditional gatherings with regular video calls, thanks to which their bonds remain strong despite distance. Young adults cherish family recipes but adapt them to their own needs — adding salted caramel to grandma’s cheesecake, replacing cabbage-filled pierogi with a vegan version, or sending holiday cards in the form of memes or short videos. In many homes, a traditional family photo album stands next to a digital frame displaying new pictures, and classic rituals — like a shared dinner, Midnight Mass, or decorating the house — blend seamlessly with modern elements: a Christmas playlist on Spotify, Polaroid photos, or live-streaming the moment of decorating the tree to relatives living abroad.

The combination of tradition and modernity works like a coordinate system: one axis keeps us close to familiar points of reference, while the other allows us to move toward new directions — only together do they form a map on which we can move forward without fear of losing our way or abandoning what matters most. For some, it is precisely thanks to modernity that tradition becomes appealing again, because it can be experienced on one’s own terms — without pressure, obligations, or the feeling that it must look exactly as it did thirty years ago. And modernity gains an entirely different depth thanks to tradition — it stops being a chaotic jump from trend to trend and instead gains a reference point, structure, and context. Such an approach benefits mental health: it allows for stability without rigidity; it grants freedom without leaving one adrift. Studies show that people who can combine different perspectives cope better with stress, return to emotional balance more quickly after difficulties, and build satisfying relationships more easily — precisely because they do not view the world in binary terms. 

If Agnieszka and Jacek were to meet for a shared Christmas Eve, their approaches could create something surprisingly harmonious: her twelve dishes, his modern additions; her family decorations, his minimalism; her stories of old customs, his ideas for giving them new meaning. This would not be a clash of two worlds but an opportunity to see that “one’s own way” can mean many different things — and that each of them has value. After all, this is how tradition has evolved for centuries: what we now consider “sacred classics” was once new. The Christmas tree became widespread in Poland only in the 20th century, beet soup replaced older fasting soups in many regions, and the tradition of exchanging gifts in its modern form developed alongside mass culture. Without changes, tradition would not have survived — because it is not a set of museum artifacts, but a living matter that grows and evolves with us.

One of the most beautiful challenges of modern holidays, then, is learning to accept that everyone experiences them a bit differently — even if we sit at the same table. Respect for these differences is the foundation that keeps the holidays from becoming an obligation and instead transforms them into a space for genuine encounter. We do not need to like the same dishes, decorate the tree in the same way, or sing (or even listen to) the same carols. It is enough to give ourselves the right to be different — because diversity does not spoil the holidays; it enriches them. And when the time comes to share the Christmas wafer, it no longer matters how many dishes stand on the table. What matters is that we sit there with people who — even if they interpret tradition differently and understand modernity in completely different ways — are ready to offer each other attention, kindness, and warmth. Because the holidays cannot exist without tradition, but they also would never evolve without a touch of modernity. And perhaps this is exactly where their magic lies — in the meeting of what is different, not in the attempt to prove that only one correct way of celebrating exists. For when we stop comparing and start listening and understanding, it becomes clear that we all — regardless of what our holidays look like — seek the same things: peace, closeness, and the feeling that we are in the right place, with the right people at our side. Even with those who can’t stand carp, choose Die Hard over Home Alone, and head to the fridge for a second slice of poppy-seed cake instead of to Midnight Mass at midnight.