The holidays really are incredible, and not in a “yum, mistletoe and gelt!!” sense, but as a societal entity that’s simultaneously unifying and polarizing, i.e.,
The Holidays, when we reconnect with our families and everything twinkles and there are all the parties and treats and songs and it’s just big magic all over! Yay!!
– and/also –
The Holidays, when we reconnect with our families and everything twinkles and there are all the parties and treats and songs and it’s just big hassle all over. Boo.
Now, if you’re on Team Yay – I’m (half) on your crew. Your decorations are gorgeous and your home smells delicious. Eat stuffing for me. Keep up the good work!
If you’re a member of Team Boo – I’m half on your squad too. Come sit by me and let’s have a chat.
Now that we’re in the midst of this potential pitfall extravaganza of roasted proteins, indoctrinated consumerism, and rampant coquito-fueled emotions, it seems like a good time to share a taste of an idea I’ve been sautéing in the ol’ brainpan. We all know this can be a fraught time for even the most ‘functional’ families, or else we’d not be annually splashed with waves of think pieces and YouTube videos offering helpful tips on how to navigate it.
[FWIW, animal QT, dance classes, avoidance, long phone calls, and meditation have been my go-to coping mechanisms this year and … well, I’m still here, still cute, and still chasing freedom, so.]
Anyway, my idea goes something like this: in the infinite spacetime wherein we inhabit only an energetic form, we just sorta hover about doing whatever until we turn to ourselves and go: “Limitless unity and abundance are super cool, but it might be a kick to have a physical structure for a while, no? Take a run at mortality. Experience sorrow and joy, get smoke in our eyes, have sex, and eat omelets. Just to see how long it takes to remember … – ”
– and the next thing we know, we’re embodied. Full of organs and identity and physical functions and jumbly bits, surrounded on all sides by other bodies with completely different versions of all the same stuff. Energy orbs encased in suits made of matter, basically. Celestial-pigs-in-cosmic-blankets who bloop into and out of each other’s fields of existence, all while attempting to recall truth we forget we forgot, which is that we’re miraculous tangible expressions of [insert preferred honorific]. And all the attempting, all that work to remember can get sticky and weird because we do a stellar job of inspiring ourselves – and each other – to forget again and again.
*Exemplary anecdote: a few Christmases ago, a dapper and (usually) clever family friend gave me a deadline of a year to find a fiancé.
A DEADLINE.
Now, I know Elder Dapper said what he said because he knows I’m lovely, well-dressed, and clever – which is love/abundance consciousness – but that didn’t stop his fear/scarcity consciousness from deciding it was cool to try (even in jest) to enforce judgment and limitation on a deeply personal life situation about which he knows exceptionally little. It was a harmful waste of time and energy, and it called my fear consciousness out to play because let’s just say I met him where he was in the moment, and Kitten has claws.
Plus it got him written about in this essay, so there’s that.*
You see how all of that STUFF can become complicated, especially when a fellow embodied orb temporarily loses its entire mind and peppers you with upsetting questions like “When are you finally gonna settle down/get a real job/make babies/stop refusing to meet our projected expectations of you?” when all you wanna do is peacefully watch Die Hard and demolish a bowl of sweet potato mash?
Here’s the thing, though: if we’re all embodied energy orbs coming into contact and upholding contracts with fellow orbs, then all the labels and meanings we’ve been conditioned to put on relationships are rendered moot. They’re an illusion, because who’s to say Orb-you can’t have a contract with Orb-another who simply happens to have taken shape as Spouse, Offspring, Friend, Co-worker, Pet, or even Career? Who determines which relationships count as Significant? A bunch of orbs on an adventure some of them don’t even realize they’re taking? Nah.
So, when you smell your orb-whomever gearing up the holiday emotion-wringer, take some deep breaths, remind yourself that we’re all clowns together in this circus, decide what kind of clown you are, and refuse to take their shit.
And proceed to shine on.
