just suppose I'm juxtaposed with you
I've been giving a lot of thought lately to this notion of a "voyeur Santa" that's crept into my head a month or so ago. The image of the Jolly Old Elf who didn't actually deliver presents -- who never was the one to deliver presents -- but traveled the world on this night of nights to bear witness of us humans' capacity for turning practical jokes of kindness and bounty on each other.
I imagine him dashing from house to house, watching the gift-giving, watching for the gifts of kindness and patience and peace that the midnight households contain, that're so much more valuable than trinkets and equipment. I imagine him returning to his glacial fastness for another year's nap, warmed with the knowledge that humans still know gratitude, that they still know generosity.
And his lists. I start to wonder why nobody's caught on to the fact that the Nice List is the Nice List, not the Obedient List or the Quiet List or the Well-Groomed List or something. Nope, it's labeled "Nice." Makes me think that maybe ol' Master Kringle cares more about whether we treat the people in our lives well, respond to what they need and give of ourselves when it's in us to give, whether we -care- about each other, than whether we've stayed inside the lines or played by the book.
And that other word, "naughty." That's a fascinating word. As in, "what have you done for your fellows lately? Oh, well, naught."
Earlier today I was driving, slowly through a parking lot jammed in on all sides by shoppers in other cars. As you might expect, I got honked at more than a few times. Usually by someone behind me, upset at my refusal to block the box or cut off a perpendicular driver who'd been waiting longer than I. What hit my mind was...
"now I figure you're probably in a hurry, got to get the rest of your last-minute presents and go home and wrap 'em and get everything ready so your family will be happy and you don't have a lot of time, so naturally you're taking it out on us. But even if it stood to gain you real time, what you're doing is stealing peace from us so you can take it home. And if there's one thing Christianity should have taught the world if anyone paid attention, one thing this dude you're ostensibly celebrating really had to say to you, it's that stealing peace from others so you can have peace is no peace at all."
The old hippie sings, "think this through with me. Let me know your mind. Oh, what I want to know is, are you kind?"
I fear I've been not so good to my people this past year. The social inertia has been pretty bad around this ol' soul lately, and a lot of visits have gone unhatched, smiles unsmiled, hellos unsaid, riffs unplayed and hugs wasted on pillows. I've had too much of naught to offer, and for that, well, I apologize.
On the other hand, with a little perspective I think this frustration is a good sign. Perhaps what it means is that I have my health back, I've come far enough out the other end of a long dark couple of years that I'm able to turn my gaze outward and, well, pay attention to paying attention again.
Little by little. Little by little is okay. Right?
Most of this is really to say, I miss you. I wish you peace. I hope you're well. May you have love.
And don't worry, the light will come back.
I imagine him dashing from house to house, watching the gift-giving, watching for the gifts of kindness and patience and peace that the midnight households contain, that're so much more valuable than trinkets and equipment. I imagine him returning to his glacial fastness for another year's nap, warmed with the knowledge that humans still know gratitude, that they still know generosity.
And his lists. I start to wonder why nobody's caught on to the fact that the Nice List is the Nice List, not the Obedient List or the Quiet List or the Well-Groomed List or something. Nope, it's labeled "Nice." Makes me think that maybe ol' Master Kringle cares more about whether we treat the people in our lives well, respond to what they need and give of ourselves when it's in us to give, whether we -care- about each other, than whether we've stayed inside the lines or played by the book.
And that other word, "naughty." That's a fascinating word. As in, "what have you done for your fellows lately? Oh, well, naught."
Earlier today I was driving, slowly through a parking lot jammed in on all sides by shoppers in other cars. As you might expect, I got honked at more than a few times. Usually by someone behind me, upset at my refusal to block the box or cut off a perpendicular driver who'd been waiting longer than I. What hit my mind was...
"now I figure you're probably in a hurry, got to get the rest of your last-minute presents and go home and wrap 'em and get everything ready so your family will be happy and you don't have a lot of time, so naturally you're taking it out on us. But even if it stood to gain you real time, what you're doing is stealing peace from us so you can take it home. And if there's one thing Christianity should have taught the world if anyone paid attention, one thing this dude you're ostensibly celebrating really had to say to you, it's that stealing peace from others so you can have peace is no peace at all."
The old hippie sings, "think this through with me. Let me know your mind. Oh, what I want to know is, are you kind?"
I fear I've been not so good to my people this past year. The social inertia has been pretty bad around this ol' soul lately, and a lot of visits have gone unhatched, smiles unsmiled, hellos unsaid, riffs unplayed and hugs wasted on pillows. I've had too much of naught to offer, and for that, well, I apologize.
On the other hand, with a little perspective I think this frustration is a good sign. Perhaps what it means is that I have my health back, I've come far enough out the other end of a long dark couple of years that I'm able to turn my gaze outward and, well, pay attention to paying attention again.
Little by little. Little by little is okay. Right?
Most of this is really to say, I miss you. I wish you peace. I hope you're well. May you have love.
And don't worry, the light will come back.