Okay It’s Christmas
Yep, it’s Christmas and you know what that means… Well you do if you live in a nation that celebrates Christmas.
These days, Christmas is both a Christian celebration of the coming of Christ, and also a reason to kick off, shop ‘til you drop, and go all out on the Season’s presents and parties.
Of course, Christmas, like Thanksgiving, Diwali, Hanukkah, Moon Cake Festival, and Ramadan all translate into some pretty crazy family times. Like when your weird brother in law (or uncle) takes to plunging his hairy hand into the centre of a big platter of shared food, dragging the heart out of it and make a mess of what’s left. And all this while boasting about something boring to everyone forced to listen.
Season’s greetings indeed.
Then there are the usual Christmas antics of the aunt with ‘issues’. Otherwise known in the family as Our Lady of the Perpetual Headache.
Every Christmas, she sits in the corner, sighing loudly and long. Each designed to spread the message. That it’s not a nice Christmas for her.
But, as usual, your aunt will bravely endure it. And for some reason you cannot fathom… you are made to feel like it’s all your fault.
Then there’s all the present giving politics. You know how it goes. You never get something worth reasonable from You Know Who. They have strange tastes. I mean, who gives a badly wrapped Christmas gift of a worn melamine cup plastered with pictures of baby rattles? That’s just… odd.
Guess you can stash it with all the other pointless Christmas spoils. Like those lame polyester socks, undersized underwear with off coloured comments emblazoned on the front and back (your brother-in-law at it again), terrible tasting candy made in the Peoples Republic of Testicklestan or somewhere, and those silly little gifts that break within ten seconds of use. Probably made in some hellhole prison factory. Destined to end up in landfill before you can say, “Gee thanks”.
But as they say at Christmas, it’s the thought that counts, right?
Some alien civilisation might just dig up this junk one day when we’re long gone. Then shake their three heads and wonder how we got it all so wrong.
But that’s Christmas. A time when we get together to fill our lives with the frivolous, in the hope of achieving more meaning.
Which typically means mutually eating our way through the equivalent of our own bodyweight. As a way to celebrate.
Mind you, there’s a flipside too. Some people get so serious about Christmas and other celebrations they create a kind of festive misery.
Not for them to share moments of happiness. Just a kind of sombre awe served up with lashings of guilt. Which is about as much fun as whipping yourself with a birch stick for a few hours.
Like you really need it.
So, okay, it’s Christmas. Time to rub shoulders with your dud brother-in-law, and that carping aunt with the sighing thing. Time to keep your cool even when people are being unreasonable. Time to see the good in being helpful and having the lowest of low expectations.
Reckon events like Christmas, Diwali, Hanukkah, Moon Cake Festival, Ramadan, and the rest work better that way. And who knows? If you treat them lightly, you’ve got a greater chance of having a good time. Meaning, if you can squeeze the odd moment of gladness amidst everything else then, definitely, you’re doing fine.