Whelp, turns out the world didn't end after all (unless this is the advent of a very unassuming and tedious afterlife) and another Christmas is upon us. It's a grey, grey day. The sky is almost white--appropriate, no? Since, y'know, there's less than no chance of snow, what with the 70 degrees outside and all. It's quiet outside. Waking up alone Christmas morning is a new perspective. It's fitting. Still. Quiet. Nice, I think.
No one got/is getting gifts from me this year, barring a batch of white chocolate peppermint bark I have yet to distribute. It all just happened so fast; I still feel a bit dazed like a crash victim. I know the annoyance of constant carols and covers thereof weighed heavily upon me, and I've very much been looking forward to the whole day off Christmas provides, but otherwise I've registered the holidays very little. No desire to shop for gifts, not even any ideas of what to get. My mother says Christmas rushes at you faster every year as you get older. How horrid.
I want to be thoughtful,t o come up with the perfect gift for every individual. I have no knack for that, for holding people close to me and letting them know how much I appreciate their being a part of my life. I'm generally bad at relationship maintenance. But I do love my friends dearly, as they have this habit of being their for me, even if it's been a while. I appreciate the hell out of them, and I am so lucky.
Recently my mother passed down a piece of advice she received from her mother: Just remember he's somebody's son. I'm still not sure what I'm supposed to think it means, but it seems like an appropriateish Christmas meditation.
Peace and love throughout the world, y'all. May your heart weigh less for a while, and embrace the good things in the world, or at least appreciate the world for what it is. (But me, I'm still hoping for a bit of cold cash under the tree.)
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