I want to make one thing absolutely clear, when I wish someone “Merry Christmas” it’s not about my religious leanings. I don’t care if someone is Christian or not.
It’s me, feeling and expressing the happiness of a life that is full of wonderful people. I feel a spark of being a kid again, a kid who doesn’t care what I get so much as who I get to share the day with. And in that moment, I get to smile and be one less person demanding anything of a clerk behind a counter, or the stranger on the walk to the park. The smile usually brings them ’round to cheer up their own countenance, and then I add Merry Christmas.
I imagine the Ghost of Christmas present, waving his torch around to help those with less feel abundance and love. I hope such a ghost does exist and gets to everyone who needs some cheer.
I also can’t help but feel the spirit of George Bailey after he gets his wish to have lived his life, even one as unfulfilling as he once thought it was, and joyfully runs down the snowy road, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas.
Enjoy it all. Merry Christmas.
The music from Star Wars makes me happy.
Lips are ten times more expressive an organ than eyes. They pout, frown, pucker, stretch wide to laugh, smile or take in a huge bite of cake. They smash into straight lines of disapproval. They tremble.
They touch things in a multitude of ways, i.e., a light brush of the lips, a peck, a flurry of kisses. Try touching eyeballs to anything and pain ensues.
Lips are used to spit, sneer, curl, and they can be plump, narrow, full, lavished with lipstick, or chapped and bleeding. Sure sure, eyes can ooze, be puffy, and bruised, but anywhere on the body can be used to demonstrate that sort of imagery.
Lips are so much more. Everyone knows when an athlete, or anyone else for that matter, says the internationally known “F” word with the volume turned low.
They eyes would need help from the surrounding muscles, and eyebrows to get that attitude across.
I just saw some man’s post (on FB) about how there’s always been conflict in the middle east, specifically he meant the Israel and Palestinian issue, and he doesn’t care. He wishes they’d stop so his gas prices would go down and he calls them all assholes and so on and so forth. And what struck me was that I used to feel that way, when I wasn’t seeing anyone on either side as humans.
And I am ashamed.
Not that long ago, “They” were just these strange Un-American war mongers in a part of the world I couldn’t be bothered to remember where exactly it was on a map. I’m pretty certain my Anthro teacher would say I was being ethnocentric.
Yes. That’s just the tip of the iceberg of my apathy to humans who live far away, and have cultures I couldn’t be bothered to understand. Until I did. Heck, I study ancient cultures for FUN, why not living, breathing, “They do what?!”, “They eat WHAT?” cultures, because until I start making inroads to understanding other ways of thinking, I’ll just keep thinking the same old things I’ve always thought, and how will my children learn to care for anyone different than us (U.S.) if I am not an example? It could happen yes, but it has a higher chance of happening if I wade into that murky, unknown first.
My lesson to contemplate today is, People everywhere, especially the people I tell myself I don’t like, that I see as wrong and hate-filled, are exactly the people I need to love.
Not that anyone in particular told me to consider this idea. It came to me. Or maybe it’s been building up over time. Either way, my knee-jerk response is, “Really?” thick with sarcasm, and wanting to list and underline the actions and thoughts I find so reprehensible, as if to say, “See!? How could anyone love someone like that?”
I’d rather sit with arms crossed or fingers pointing, and forget that that’s exactly what ‘they’ are thinking about those I already love. And probably me too. If I want ‘them’ to look beyond what scares them, and see the beauty in others, as people who deserve rights (for example) as everyone else, then don’t I need to do the same?
I feel like one of the creatures in Dr. Seuss’ story, The Zax, unwilling to alter my course and so never moving forward.