Kirkepiscatoid

Yesterday, a couple of lines jumped out at me when reading my Advent devotional. It was talking about how the holiday season is hard on a lot of people. "Most of us do not want people around us to know that we might be sad, or lonely, or ill, or afraid in this jolly, festive, time. Yet pretending can be difficult." It went on to say, "The good news is that God does not require us to be decorated, or jolly, or "ready for Christmas" to come to us in love. The great stories of Advent remind us of this."

It hit on me that one of the things that literally makes me weary this time of year is that it is a time of year I want to crawl into the dark and mostly be by myself, to become energized in the depths of a darkness that seems to have everything inside of it, to prepare myself for the cabin fever of February. Yet the situations are such I keep having to be "dragged out" into places where everything is busy and cheerful. I can only handle so much "busy and cheerful." This sounds strange, because I can be incredibly extroverted, and actually can be a live wire at a holiday party. But there is a place where all of a sudden, the curtain falls and almost immediately, I am like, "Ok, that's enough now, I need to go home."

If I stay too long, when I get home, it drives me further into the dark than I want to go. It has a rebound effect. It is much like my coffee addiction. If I sleep too long, I get the "I need coffee" headache. If I spend too much time at a holiday party, I get the "this is too much social" chest pain. For many years I have not decorated for the holidays. I have used two excuses for this. One is the fact that I have not had a dog in 20 years who can resist peeing on a Christmas tree. The other is, for years, my friend M., being Jewish, chafed and cringed at all the decorations that surrounded him and I could feel that, by not decorating, I could at least create an oasis for him where he could see one other person besides himself was not falling into the "decoration trap." The sum total of my decorations this year is a set of Advent candles.

But the truth is, I am the one who needs an oasis. I need an oasis by which to escape the visual bombardment of glitz and tinsel and "ho ho ho" and an escape from the sound of people singing about snowmen and reindeer and "fairytale Jesus", pa-rum-pa-rum-pum. I can handle everyone else's because I neutralize it at home. It was a discovery by accident--by doing something to make M's visits more tolerable, I got something for myself. Well, I don't know if the present dogs would pee on a Christmas tree, and M. now lives in a dementia facility, so no excuses--it's all for me now!

I admit I get weary this time of year. Don't get me wrong--I enjoy the parties. Love the food. Have a great time visiting with the people. Am blessed to have "too many parties to attend." But at some point, the yin-yang of it gets unbalanced, because I am a person who craves and enjoys and is energized by solitude, and probably need more of it than most people. But, by the same token, I can get intense energy out of extroversion, and crave it too...just less of it, or maybe I can fill my tank with it faster.

Too much getting out to parties can be hard, not just because of my own needs but because of my ability to see through things. I seem to be able to see the one person at the party that is playing "let's pretend." The person who is sad, or lonely, or ill or afraid, but putting up a good front, stands out in the party to me like a person with a neon aura and an arrow that points right at them. I find myself drawn to them. Sometimes this works out ok, and sometimes I am just frazzled enough from my own yin-yang unbalance it can make me feel a little more unnerved.

I have been told this is a "gift" but at times it does not particularly feel like a joyful one, because it enhances my own need to withdraw. "Not going" is generally not an option, b/c my absence creates worry and questions, so I have learned to just limit my time. Mostly I maneuver it ok. But wow, it gets tiring.

But it makes me realize that part of what Advent is all about is to become more authentic in a sea of "let's pretend." I admit my methods are a bit drastic for most tastes, and probably would not recommend them to anyone, but everyone has the opportunity to become more authentic this time of year, and that is a blessing unto itself!