the twelfth of never . . .
What do you think is better? To go along with people that you love, brushing aside times when they treat you rudely? Or to talk instead about one’s true feelings, even if it is painful to do so? Family gathering time during the holidays, which have already been kicked off by Thanksgiving and now leading to Hannukah and Christmas, is rife with opportunity for these kinds of occasions. For better or for worse. Maybe that’s why so many of us dread the season, even as we go about our habits of buying more things for people than we feel we need to.
For me, what happens is that new notes enter into our communications that are barely perceptible at first, then increase until it becomes something that can’t be ignored any longer. I weigh things carefully before I say anything because usually, there is a huge reactive defensiveness, more in some than others, that rears its head and then quickly morphs into Self-Righteousness. That’s the worst kind of avoidance, I think. Issues get swept off the table when this happens with no chance of some type of improvement, or at least an active discussion of same that might be helpful.
In any case, sometimes these blowouts blow over, over time. (Wow, that was some sentence!) And sometimes it feels like Armageddon. Speaking of which, isn’t Armageddon what’s supposed to happen on the twelfth of December anyhow, the world coming to an end? What does the end of the world mean? For me, I guess I’m stubborn enough to feel that when all is said and done, it’s important for my inner truth to be left standing. . . or at least, floating along as my spirit in the Cosmos should they be right about December 12th. What else really matters? Nothing, right? Or have I missed something?