Decade Decadence

This post was started on time, but finished late, it should have come out about three weeks ago.

If you are my age, then you were a teenager in the year 2000.

Which makes this past decade the most monumental decade of your life, so far.

It has been a decade of newfound happiness, first heartbreaks, devirgination, first close friends, introduction to alcohol, introduction to drugs, introduction to real depression, introduction to real joy, broken promises, understanding of the worth of a dollar, development of family ethos, amazing epiphanies, and life-shaping incidents. If I missed a few, which I am sure I have, fill in the blanks. If I mentioned some that don’t apply to you, mark over them. The point has been made.

And so, we can all remember this decade as the one in which we became who we are today. Until the day we die, most of our stories involving our growing pains will chronologically fall into this decade, from which we will pick and choose incidents that best describe us.

But now the decade is over, and it seems a piece of us has to be put away into a cupboard or a file in a mind cabinet. It has to be labeled ‘past’ and forgiven (though not forgotten). And if this past decade is the best and worst through which we have ever breathed, then to what can we look forward?

Let me tell you.

This next decade is the last one in which we get to make big leaps. The cosmetics and labels will be a bit different, but this decade holds in it just as much epic nature as the last. This time around, we get to really fall in love for a long time, start the career which might one day kill us, leave the towns and cities in which we’d stretched our bones and become men and women, marry those partners we find time-worthy, progress our species by reproducing, and buy permanent dwelling places. This is it.

It is in this decade that we can finally dictate the course of our lives.

It is in this decade that we can finally dictate the course of our lives.

Do not lament that the past decade is passed, but sing in joy that now you are in the next.

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.