"To make a Christmas best," says my Great Uncle Herman, "it is up to you to decide. The entire purpose of the season is joy. It has nothing to do with gifts or food, but with giving thanks and praise to life and to those in your life. That's Christmas. To love."
I made a tremendous effort at the Christmas spirit this year, an attempt to counter a dragging preconception that it would be the worst Christmas. Quite a failure.
But I was speaking to Herman at the big Christmas dinner one side of my family has every year, and his words showed me where I went wrong. Well, everyone seems to dislike Christmas. But it seems that what everyone dislikes about it are the things Christmas is not even meant for. People stress out to purchase obligatory gifts. But when gift giving is supposed to be a representation of that thanks and praise a person ought to be sharing, this stress has no place. So cast it aside. Focus on the enjoyment of your company; feel the love focused upon you; reflect it back.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Friday, December 7, 2007
Yesterday today.
There is this unfortunate website that goes by the name of Facebook, a website you may have heard of. There are many things that have been said, and can be said, about it. But a most recent occurrence has caused a wave of...something, to press upon me. A curious mix of past and present.
Over the last several days there have been a flood of people of yore that have reinstalled themselves into my life. Perhaps only in a manner of speaking though, I suppose, because many of them I have not seen or spoken to for about six or seven years, and I am unsure as to whether or not they would see or speak to me some more now, aside from looking at those pictures of me on that website or editing some detail concerning how they know who I am.
If they wish to cross paths once again, then I would, of course, love to. But this entire occurrence has made me wonder at how much I have changed since being an awkward boy with too many joints. And how much I am the same as a man.
How strange it is. When the paths of two peoples' lives part ways, no longer paralleling each other, and as one continues along their particular path, the other person doesn't entirely go away. The image they keep tucked away, the memory they have of the other person, stays frozen at the point before they parted. I have forever remembered these people as children, just as I was, with crooked teeth and eyes of inexperience. New eyes, ones that have not yet experienced that dry, dark chocolate taste of adulthood. Those were eyes yet excited with wonder. I find myself looking at the eyes of those in the photos of today to see if they have changed with experience. Some are very different, but I am warmed on a cold night like this to see that some yet shine the same.
Over the last several days there have been a flood of people of yore that have reinstalled themselves into my life. Perhaps only in a manner of speaking though, I suppose, because many of them I have not seen or spoken to for about six or seven years, and I am unsure as to whether or not they would see or speak to me some more now, aside from looking at those pictures of me on that website or editing some detail concerning how they know who I am.
If they wish to cross paths once again, then I would, of course, love to. But this entire occurrence has made me wonder at how much I have changed since being an awkward boy with too many joints. And how much I am the same as a man.
How strange it is. When the paths of two peoples' lives part ways, no longer paralleling each other, and as one continues along their particular path, the other person doesn't entirely go away. The image they keep tucked away, the memory they have of the other person, stays frozen at the point before they parted. I have forever remembered these people as children, just as I was, with crooked teeth and eyes of inexperience. New eyes, ones that have not yet experienced that dry, dark chocolate taste of adulthood. Those were eyes yet excited with wonder. I find myself looking at the eyes of those in the photos of today to see if they have changed with experience. Some are very different, but I am warmed on a cold night like this to see that some yet shine the same.
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