Merry Christmas! Out Upon Merry Christmas!!
I always wake up on Christmas morning, knowing deep in my heart that love will prevail someday.
New York at Christmas Time has a magical vibe. Most especially around Times Square and the Theater District. The smell of roasting chestnuts, the cold humid nip in the air right before the snow and the happy people racing to their seats before curtain—all of it so cinematic and lovely. Throw in a barely audible “It’s A Marshmallow World” by Dean Martin, and you’ve been exposed to one of life’s true perfections.
Every Christmas since 2017, I’ve been watching George C Scott’s “A Christmas Carol.” This year during some dental issues, I turned to that movie like a security blanket. I also had the audiobook read by Hugh Grant. Anywhere I happened to be—work or home—where I needed to be soothed, I put it on.
So, when one of my friends posted about seeing the play at The Nederlander Theater, my wheels wouldn’t stop spinning. I kept looking up great seats and trying to argue with myself that I deserved something like that. Finally, one morning at work, as I am apt to do, I impulsively bought second row seats.
I deserve it!
I haven’t been to a professional production since I was 9 years old and my parents took us to see Godspell. I’m happy to report that things have changed in the last 40 years. The two things that impressed me the most was the final scene where we, the audience, were transported from Scrooge’s dark, lonely bedroom to the outside snowy streets of 19th Century London. The second was to see actor, Jefferson Mays, tearing up during the final ovation.
I did not return to my warm bed until after midnight but I will assure you that it was worth it. From this point forward, the rest of Christmas, for me, is just going to be the giving of gifts to my children and a little well earned time off. I don’t usually get too worked up about it. The American high holidays are meant to celebrate togetherness and being alone means that one is laboring on their chains like Scrooge. Oh and it’s a ponderous chain.
But seriously, iIf I’ve learned anything this year it’s that I could survive without dating anyone. I had been writing articles for years—it seems—about dropping out of the dating world and working on certain things with a therapist and I had finally stuck to the plan. I’ve learned quite a lot at those appointments. Mostly that I should not allow the past traumas that others suffered to have any bearing on how I view myself.
We live in a society, if one were to believe what is being plastered all over Twitter, where things are changing wholesale; but how much are they really changing. Men still prefer women with big breasts because of the biological programming that assures them unconsciously that this woman is going to be able to provide ample food for their offspring. Women still prefer tall and heavy men because they’ve been socialized to appreciate the role of being miniscule and helpless.
And while that’s the sort of observation one might have to duck after making in public, my experience has told me that I am not off the mark.
If this sounds like the sour grapes rambling of an incel, I apologize but I am not celibate, so I can not lay claim to that title. I will, however, let you in on what I find so magical about Christmas:
It reminds me that I am just in an “era.” This is the era of my being highly productive, creative and alone. I have been in enough relationships where I would literally wish for a day or two alone, so as far as I can tell, the great God above has gathered all of those wishes through the years and delivered them all at once. We rarely get to customize our wishes (although one reader from the Elephant Journal once insisted to me that she “petitioned” the universe for the perfect lover with the perfect family at the perfect time and she received everything right down to the pepperoni pizza she threw in almost as an afterthought, but I gave up arguing with this sort of person years ago.)
“When I was back there in Seminary School, a person there put forth the proposition that we can petition the Lord with prayer.” See Jim Morrison for an answer about that (search Soft Parade in Spotify.)
Anyway, I always wake up on Christmas morning, knowing deep in my heart that love will prevail someday. This era will surely come to its conclusion and I will look upon these days with fondness–most especially when I’m being reprimanded for not doing this or for doing that without thinking about (fill in the blank.)
As for the moment, I must get in the shower and get ready to see my daughters as they squirm and cry that they have to wait for tomorrow to open their gifts.
Merry Christmas! Out upon Merry Christmas!
So much truth in this. I am in my own era of self, focusing on my work as a recovery coach after finally releasing myself from the chains of a long ago relationship that for some reason I could not fully let go of. The final break is still fresh, but I am committed to and focused on my next steps. Merry Christmas Billy!
Merry late Christmas, Billy. All of that and more. Bring on the nostalgia, the comfort vibes, the impulsive thoughts that lead us to fulfilling and uplifting experiences and the quest for a "brighter days ahead" mantra. It's a new day, grateful to be on the other side of the holidays (almost, I guess) as it brings just as much sorrow as joy for so many, including myself. Sorrow, as in recent loss of dear loved ones, mom carried the torch in so many ways. I'm taking on that role now, gingerly but open to being that carrier. After all, her badassery has been passed down quite honestly. Thank you for sharing your heart so vividly, it always offers much needed reflection.