A few years ago, I made a New Year’s resolution to stop making New Year’s resolutions. It was long overdue, because for several years, I could pencil in an early February panic attack. Sure, it was partly due to the darkness of winter, but the main culprit was the need to reinvent myself. I shall read more, write more, exercise more, and pray more! And by “more,” I meant at all. And a lot.
I’m not sure why this led to annual panic attacks, but the goals had to end. Until I became a teacher. New Year’s resolutions became summer resolutions. How can I not waste these two months? I must read more, write more, exercise more, and pray more, all on top of being a full-time caregiver for young children. Last summer, I decided I would paint my house. The exterior. In Texas. The slow death of my body resulted in the death of summer resolutions.
My desire to level up comes from a good place. Reading, writing, exercising, budgeting, hydrating, and praying are all great things that would make my life better. And yet, working to get there is a battle, and a multi-front battle is a war. Ambitious goals have a cost, and my body seems to push back on a molecular level. Sometimes, I need permission to accept where I’m at. I need Halfway There Day.
If you’re unfamiliar with this fictional holiday, it comes not from Bon Jovi’s stellar song, but from a 22-minute episode of the Disney show Kiff. Allow me to introduce you. It’s all about minimal effort, and here’s how the local news anchor (a talking bird) describes it:
It’s Halfway There Day, folks, July 2, and we’ve made it halfway through the year. We’ve all been working so hard, and now is the time for our beloved no-pressure holiday. Forget cleaning your house before some formal dinner, it’s time to accept where you’re at and take it easy. The famous Halfway There dinner is all about putting in 50% effort and having 100% fun.
The main celebration is a progressive dinner, where each neighborhood house is proud to serve the easiest frozen, canned, or leftover dishes. This holiday has carols (We love one another the way we are / It’s time to lower the bar) and its own mythology. If you truly give 50% effort, then Centaur Claus will visit with his magic trash, where you can burn your New Year’s Resolution.
This is the perfect holiday. Not only is July 2 halfway through the year, but it’s also halfway through the summer. So no matter when I make a vow, it’s right in the middle. Or at least it was perfect for me, because this summer my resolutions went in the opposite direction. I was going to rest and relax, to summer right. You probably know the rest of the story. It went great for a couple of lazy weeks, but then I started thinking of ways I want to change up my classroom in the fall. Six massive spreadsheets later, I felt like I was cheating on my resolve not to resolve.
This is exactly the predicament of the titular Kiff, a type-A teen squirrel who opens the Halfway There Day episode stressing to prepare the perfect thrown-together meal. Her mother, concerned that Kiff is missing the spirit of the season, shares a cautionary tale of the Grinch-like Beverly:
‘Twas Halfway There Day, and time for the crawl.
Where dinner would be eaten, in the houses of all.
First came the starters at house number one.
Simple, easy, and oh-so-much fun!House two and three, first salad, then soup!
“We’re so relaxed,” laughed the loosened-up group!
The next host was Beverly at house number four.
She said, “Come on in!” and opened the door.Everyone froze. There was horror and shock.
There was crystal and china from bottom to top.
Through the streets they ran screaming, “But look how we’re dressed!”
Halfway There Day was ruined! She’d done her … best!She made ’em feel bad for their average snacks.
It was over for Beverly. They never went back.
Where she is today, nobody knows.
I heard she lives in the mountains. Her friends, only crows.
This cautionary tale backfires like the mandated fun of an office icebreaker. It only gives Kiff more to stress about: “Don’t be a Beverly. Don’t be a Beverly.” It doesn’t work. Kiff’s effort to be effortless summons Beverly like a demon. With their ambitious powers combined, they ruin Halfway There Day for the entire neighborhood. Kiff’s sins bring shame to her family, who are hereby banished from the holiday.
On first watching this episode, I saw the holiday itself as grace, a much-needed relief from the pressure to be more. But it’s the conclusion that puts it into gospel territory. In Kiff’s dark moment, she is helped from beyond with the arrival of Centaur Claus, who calls the town back to the spirit of the season: “It’s not about simply giving 50%, it’s about not feeling pressured to give 100%. And if some people like Beverly or Kiff feel no pressure to go all out, then why in the name of July 2nd are you putting pressure on them to do otherwise? Don’t you see the paradox?”
Permission to rest and relax is wonderful, especially for the overworked and burned out. But what if, on your day off, you love the process of cooking a complex meal? Like dressing up? Hunting for deals to stay within budget, writing curriculum, or exercising? What’s work for one is relaxation to another, and what “feels like work” can change based on the day. It’s easy to make strict laws around rest, just look at the New Testament religious leaders. Thankfully we have Jesus, the Holy Ghost, and maybe a magical centaur to help us figure it out.
This year, as you celebrate Halfway There Day, do so in freedom. If you hate cleaning, don’t touch Laundry Mountain. If you’re energized by scrubbing baseboards, scrub with joy. Whether your food is from scratch, a freezer, or drive-thru window, remember that it is not by effort that you’re halfway through the year. The calendar turns regardless of your work or rest, success or failure. Whether you’re better, worse, or the same: You’re here, and that’s worth celebrating.
