I'm thinking about other people's ships, except no. What I'm thinking of really is other people's parts of ship. There's only ever the one ship, and if we don't stop trying to hack away the floorboards, someday soon we might pull a Leo. But I'm thinking about them as Christmas tiptoes.
I wish I had the words and the strength to reach stubborn people, and get them to stop steering in the opposite direction. I wish I had a way of showing others that past the glitz and the mulled wine and the tearing of paper, it's passing. It's all wooshing past your window even now, and here we are, holding on to petty grumbles, waiting for the universe to turn and say,
Yes. Turns out, after all there was, you were right. You, and none of the others.
And maybe it will, but even if it does for you, it won't for everybody. Maybe you're right and nobody acknowledges your rightness. Or maybe you're right and you end up going it alone. Or maybe you're wrong. We've got to be. You may well be right about me but be wrong both at once. There is no finite storyline, it's only just perspective. And if there's one thing you'd hope this time of the year to do, it's get us to put aside our own impossibly narrow perspective and try to see other people's for a change.
Somebody told me I tend to get too into the spirit. Except no. That the spirit of the holiday gets into me, and I suppose they were right, even as I spent a long time thinking they were wrong.
I can't help it. I love holidays. All of them. I love Christmas. Love Easter. Love St Patrick's Day. I love every silly little reason to have a bit of a kick and a dance and celebrate that you're alive and that there's these nice people who love you despite your weird, too-big nose, or your wacky tone when you've had a drink too many. Despite your thinning hair and your outdated ideas. And isn't that marvelous.
We're really very lucky to be. And personally, I think we should take every single chance to celebrate one another, to break bread and exchange gifts with the ones who matter. I mean, of course you should. Not because a store tells you to, or because God or because whatever the fuck else. But because most of us don't do it enough. Even if you do it often. I mean, fucking hell, if it's people you love, if you genuinely like being with these people, then why not pop round for a piece of pie and some sherry?
And even if you don't. Even if they give you a hard time sometimes, maybe. Because you don't know how many more chances you're gonna get. And you can be sure, by the way we've crafted this society of ours, that you're going to regret missing Christmas with the people who matter. It's a cliche. It's in every single holiday cheesy film. But that doesn't mean it's untrue. I'm rambling a bit. Other people's ships.
Can't get too concerned with that. What I'm trying for this season (and for this coming year) is to fortify my corner of the ship. I'm working on figuring out how to best support this shoddy little brig that we share so that it holds. What does it mean to try and help others around me have an easier, nicer time? 'Cause maybe it's been shit enough already. And maybe when I help them, it makes it less shit for me, too.
I think the reason I love all these holidays is because they're a reminder to try and think about other people's experience on this Earth. Not for everyone, but a lot of people who are half-decent try. I try, too. That's all any of us can really do.
What can I do to make my side of the ship a little sturdier this coming year? I don't know yet. Sometimes it's saying 'yes' despite being crabby. Mostly, it's remembering we have more in common than we have different, and we always will. At least, for me. What's it for you?
Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. Enjoy this time. All this time (because there's not so much of it).
“Dullness. Only humans could have invented it. What imaginations they had.” (Hogfather, Sir Terry Pratchett)
