Christmas Eve Afternoon

I have a new-found respect for the following:

• Talapia
• Firefighters
• Professional Dog Walkers
• Butchers
• Cheesemongers
• Ex-students
• Wreath sellers
• Rastafarians

All of these being people, places, events or other things I've stumbled across in the last few days.

As a Native American I admit to looking at the Dominant Culture with a slightly - make that "markedly" - jaundiced eye.  Irony of ironies being my current work as a purveyor of that culture by working at a Mall in a store that sells high-style consumer electronics.

The really damning thing is that I enjoy it so much.  That's uncanny, in the Freudian sense.

I volunteered yesterday, went in to the Orchard to help out with the crush going into Christmas Eve.  There might well be a mob today but most folks are turning their focus inward.  

Yesterday's folks were shopping at the last minute. There were ones aware of how late the hour was and still wanted to get something.  These folks were rushed, victims of a window not yet closed, but closing.  

I would think that knowing you missed the boat would lead to disappointment tempered by at least knowing where you were.

It's the poor sod who knows they can "still make the boat" if they rush, flailing on the edge of panic.  Those are the ones who get a little crazy.

And when the boat is the "Titanic" then it's just a recipe for craziness - or at least, bad manners.

That's who I had to deal with yesterday - people who were "rushed" and could see themselves "getting it all done" if they only just pushed themselves - and those who were paid to be there to help them - a little bit harder.

Professional discretion forbids my going into specifics. If you really want to know then drop by and we'll go get a Scotch.

Maybe two.

Still, against all predictions of "reason" I really enjoyed it.  Maybe there is a resonance with their situations.

I mean, I've taken a fantastic chance with my life and after consultation with financial authorities it might well turn out that I've done the right - or at least "most effective" thing.

Put another way - I kept worrying and worrying about "would I get there" - professionally, financially, personally, creatively.  Despite all the energy wasted it looks pretty sure that I might pull this off.  

Set aside the idea that anyone might actually like what I'm creating here - and sometimes even I'm not sure what the heck I'm doing.

Just focussing on the idea that I love where I am right now, that I'm happy, is enough to make the empty bank account (well, depleted), the non-functioning car (just an alternator) - make all of them worth it.

Well, make all of them bearable - they make sense.

Perhaps that is the greatest gift of this Holiday season: for the first time in many, many years, my life makes sense to me.

Not a lot of sense, but it does make sense.

So the "anxiety of becoming", the obverse of the shiny coin of change, is lessened.  

I've been wandering around the town, looking around - colors and snow and wreaths and people - lot's and lot's of people.

It may well be that I can finally put down the spyglass that looks on calm waters and sees only tempests.

I have no lights up, no tree.  There will be no presents, no cards, no carols except those I sing in my heart.

No mangers, no shepherds.

Definitely no wise men - and virgins (well, none I know of...).

I don't think the Christ came to keep people from being naughty, to make the virtuous richer - or even more secure.

I think this season calls us to listen - to God, to each other and to ourselves.

Especially to ourselves.  We only have so much time and it is always well spent went lavished on those we love.

Merry.  Happy.