midwinter

Tribal identity is monumentally important to us. We like to be ourselves and to be reassured that we are doing well while trying. We need affrimation. Constantly.

This is partly why comedians have been around forever. They, generally, spit at us what we should not do and how we should not act. Then everyone spreads their lips and shows their teeth to each other with smiles, a sign of peace and agreement. Yes, we all agree that this is not how one should act, and it’s so funny. It is so important for us to do this that half the movies in the theatre are comedies and so are half the shows on television. Be sure that even straight up drama will often include a bit of humor in it.

I digress.

Another tool of tribal affirmation is celebration. Worship the same god as your neighbor, dance around the same fire as your neighbor, eat the same food as your neighbor, tell the same story as your neighbor, play the same game as your neighbor. By doing this and openly exhibiting the fact that we do this (decorations) we agree with the tribe and are offered reassurance at the same time. The entire season of festivus, including most holidays of most cultures (no discrimination here) were initially designed, if involuntarily and subconsciously, to create tribal peace and maintain harmony. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with this. It sounds fantastic. It sounds warm and filled with love. But it is still a lie and I want to write about lies in my blog, so I do.

I would be much more appreciative if we could simply celebrate the solstices or the coming of heavy winter or anything more specific to us. Anything. By having it solely involve us humans, we can be so much closer to the core of the celebration. We can find so much more solace in the true nature of the festivity. In contrast, by labeling it and handing it over to a deity, we are removing ourselves from it. The day becomes less about us and more about him/her/it or whatever imaginary friends one chooses to celebrate.

There needs to be a celebration of life. A celebration of our lives. A celebration of our smiles and our tears, our friends and our enemies, those with whom we live and those whom we have lost. And the festivity should end with that, allowing us the utmost of respect to ourselves for our accomplishments. That we do not celebrate this way is okay, we add names and stories and miracles and so on. And I have learned that this is our nature and it is more than alright. It is beneficial for the species to do so. We have evolved into our religious fancies. But even religion does not stay pure.

And to prove the dirt on the shoulder of the festivity’s pure name, I really want to say one thing, dismissing an otherwise long paragraph: e.g. the mall.

I see you as a happier person if you celebrate midwinter for what it is, a celestial shift that ultimately affects our crops and then our lives. Smile for it, for you have evolved based on its whim. The galaxy that fostered this shift is as much part of you as your brother, sister, mother or father.

We all came from similar mounds of dust. Let us celebrate that we came at all.

Death, Pt. (unknown)

This might be the only post on death, and it might not.

I was told today that an old friend of mine had died. She was 22. She died in pain. Her weak immune system (weak due to a disease that will not be discussed for her privacy) could not fight a cold that she had contracted.

The details of her death are not material to this post, nor is the lament for her end.

I want to write about the other issue here. That is: connections.

We ride through our lives and we leave our imprint on the world around us.

Just like we carry on our skin a thousand scars from a thousand people, we leave scars on others, as well.

Most of these scars, though lasting forever, can be seen, at some point, as positive. It can even be said that the worst scars might bring about a smile to our mouths, a small crinkle of the skin that holds in it a novel of ideas and observations.

These scars are our connections to the soil and to the atmosphere. It is, inevitably, how we exist in others just as they exist within us.

You would not be you today if she did not cheat on you, even if you haven’t seen her in five years. You would not be you today if he did not hit you, even if you haven’t seen him in five years.

But not all scars are negative. Some are carved when your childhood love sends you a letter when you move to the US. She sends a picture of her smiling. She’s eleven, you’re twelve. With the photo, she sends three stones for good luck. You kept the rocks with the photo in the envelope for the past twelve years. You had lost touch with her since, but remember her smile. She left a scar, an imprint, an impression. Your philosophy is in some way influenced by her. She is you. You are her. At least partially.

It might be important to remember our scars. To investigate them. Take a closer look.We can learn about ourselves through them. We can see how we’ve evolved, how the skin has stretched the scar.

Without scars, we really own nothing. Without scars, we really are nothing.