Who Are You Apologizing To This Holiday Season:
or, for the more hard-hearted among us, for those of us with hearts more similar in composition and texture to stale gingerbread, or peppermint hard candies found at the bottom of last year's stocking, or cookie dough right out of the freezer; for those of us with hearts that could use a little ripening, like a winter pear or clementine, can't imagine who i'm talking about here, can't imagine anyone like this,
Who Are You Trying To Forgive This Holiday Season?
heather and i saw the irish writer colum mccann speak at the 92nd street y last night (this means i will get to hashtag colum mccann again on this blog, making him the second most hashtagged thing after #dinner), and he referred to a little something called irish alzheimer's. according to colum, this disease is, you forget everything but a grudge. ah! a diagnosis! finally!
the name for this affliction comes in a season, month, week, where i find myselfforced prompted, like scrooge, or perhaps more
like matthew mcconaughey pre- his recent ascent to Great Movie Star of our Time, by a selection
of personal ghosts to think about all my grudges of years past, how to
work on myself, things i wish i'd done better this year, hope i'll do
better next year, mistakes to rectify, the e-reader i want, must be on
nice list, and importantly, how to forgive people, because it's the way
to truth, and my ereader, and may make my psychosomatic shin splints go
away.
on monday i arrived at work in my normal monday mood, which is to say simultaneously over-caffeinated and drowsy, points if i can make it from the subway platform to my desk chair without looking up from my book, feeling distinctly able to focus on the bad but utterly OCD when it comes to prospect research, generally a human storm cloud, but dressed, and i checked facebook. i was recently explaining to my boss that i never check facebook unless i'm at work, then realized, terrible audience, but it's true, so i checked my facebook and LO AND BEHOLD over my stupid, self-pitying weekend i had received this totally unexpected and kind facebook message. it was just waiting for me there in the internet! and it included an apology from one of these ghosties mentioned above. from someone i really didn't need an apology from, from someone at least 3 apartments and 10 lbs and 4 jobs ago, but it was of course still appreciated, and, more than that guys, it was a cindy lou who shock to my grinchy system.
i was asking for this shock like a kid talking back to his
parents. i've been operating under the influence of a pretty serious
bout of irish alzheimer's for most of the fall quarter here and i wonder
if i'm starting to see the light, or if it's just the christmas spirit,
or if it even matters which it is, because while my ab muscles have
developed from hanging on to all this tension, it hasn't been
particularly good for my cuticles or the enamel on my molars and all i've
been flirting with in 6 months is TMJ which isn't even to speak of
what it's done to my typical cool chill manner!or, for the more hard-hearted among us, for those of us with hearts more similar in composition and texture to stale gingerbread, or peppermint hard candies found at the bottom of last year's stocking, or cookie dough right out of the freezer; for those of us with hearts that could use a little ripening, like a winter pear or clementine, can't imagine who i'm talking about here, can't imagine anyone like this,
Who Are You Trying To Forgive This Holiday Season?
heather and i saw the irish writer colum mccann speak at the 92nd street y last night (this means i will get to hashtag colum mccann again on this blog, making him the second most hashtagged thing after #dinner), and he referred to a little something called irish alzheimer's. according to colum, this disease is, you forget everything but a grudge. ah! a diagnosis! finally!
the name for this affliction comes in a season, month, week, where i find myself
on monday i arrived at work in my normal monday mood, which is to say simultaneously over-caffeinated and drowsy, points if i can make it from the subway platform to my desk chair without looking up from my book, feeling distinctly able to focus on the bad but utterly OCD when it comes to prospect research, generally a human storm cloud, but dressed, and i checked facebook. i was recently explaining to my boss that i never check facebook unless i'm at work, then realized, terrible audience, but it's true, so i checked my facebook and LO AND BEHOLD over my stupid, self-pitying weekend i had received this totally unexpected and kind facebook message. it was just waiting for me there in the internet! and it included an apology from one of these ghosties mentioned above. from someone i really didn't need an apology from, from someone at least 3 apartments and 10 lbs and 4 jobs ago, but it was of course still appreciated, and, more than that guys, it was a cindy lou who shock to my grinchy system.
i watch my roommates struggling with forgiveness, granting
it or seeking it, while i do the same. we trace each other's footsteps
through our tiny apartment, negotiating the small space, twinkling with
christmas lights and crowded with our brooding. (or maybe not, guys, and
i'm just so brood-y that i imagine it?)
and then, when it comes, forgiveness, it comes so easily. it is a flood of warmth that is so relieving, like walking inside out of the cold december night. it seems like you hardly had to work for it after all, you so quickly forget how bad and useless all that energy was, and then acceptance exists as a matter-of-fact truth, the truth that it's fine, i'm fine, we're fine, and worst case scenario there is absence and apathy in place of all that anger, but best case -- there is affection.
i'm lucky because every time i want to remember how that feeling is possible and how it is so good, all i have to do is go to this one bar in brooklyn. this guy, this ghost, he's important to me, and he's always there. and every time i look at him all of these piled up years are there, too. and i get to revel in this ridiculous feeling that's maybe like how mother teresa-george saunders type people feel all the time, and it's like my irish alzheimer's morphs into buddhist alzheimer's and i only remember nothing except for that it's nice to see him and we get to pepper each other with kisses and it's nbd and no one is angry ever and there's world peaaaace!!!!!
because i'm pretty sure that's the point of all of this, or at least this:
and then, when it comes, forgiveness, it comes so easily. it is a flood of warmth that is so relieving, like walking inside out of the cold december night. it seems like you hardly had to work for it after all, you so quickly forget how bad and useless all that energy was, and then acceptance exists as a matter-of-fact truth, the truth that it's fine, i'm fine, we're fine, and worst case scenario there is absence and apathy in place of all that anger, but best case -- there is affection.
i'm lucky because every time i want to remember how that feeling is possible and how it is so good, all i have to do is go to this one bar in brooklyn. this guy, this ghost, he's important to me, and he's always there. and every time i look at him all of these piled up years are there, too. and i get to revel in this ridiculous feeling that's maybe like how mother teresa-george saunders type people feel all the time, and it's like my irish alzheimer's morphs into buddhist alzheimer's and i only remember nothing except for that it's nice to see him and we get to pepper each other with kisses and it's nbd and no one is angry ever and there's world peaaaace!!!!!
because i'm pretty sure that's the point of all of this, or at least this:
seasons greetings and love and acceptance (depending who's reading this heh heh),
fran
