I wrote a letter to Santa.
I've wrapped boxes full of things I adore for people I love.
I've hung my wreathes.
I've decorated my puppies.
I've watched more than 20 specials on the TV.
I believe in the twinkle lights and glitter and the really good "cheer" and my tremendous stash of friends and the ribbons and bows and Lifetime Made for Television holiday fare and all the rest of the magic that goes with this time of year!
What I don't believe in is buying gifts for people I barely know or hardly see, being forced to participate in festive gatherings out of obligation, spending a fortune on presents for children, using the season as an excuse for gluttony, trying to "make a point," and insincere expressions of merriment.
I really thought I had something more in me on this, but I just don't. Maybe we should just consider this a reminder that you will receive in return that which you gave. I believe!
Monday, December 20, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
None for Me, Thank You Very Much!
Christmas can be an awkward time for those of us who intentionally hold no religious affiliation. It’s fraught with the declining of invitations to attend pageants and services and yet another, “come with us to see our neighbor’s nativity scene!" This rant is dedicated to those of you who extend these invitations/commands year after year as though something is going to dramatically change and we'll suddenly decide that everything we hold dear is of no consequence and come running whatnot... enthusiastically.
First, I would like to offer some advice on how to gracefully accept “no” as an answer.
1. Do not ask “why not?” It’s in poor form.
2. Do not plead or bribe. The answer will now be an agitated “no!”
3. Appreciate that your non-religious, non-conformist friend(s) will find a way to avoid you at the holidays going forward if you don’t respect their holiday traditions - or lack thereof.
[Sidebar: When you say no – to anyone for any reason – it is absolutely NOT necessary to offer up an explanation. When faced with an invitation that makes you want to run screaming to the back of your closet with a bottle of vodka rather than accept, your options are few: lie (always a bad idea); be truthful and risk hurting someone’s feelings; or silence. I recommend the third.]
I think we'd all like you to spend a little time mulling over why you’re so dead-set on getting us to your little shindigs in the first place. Is it really worth how annoyed I'd be just so you can add one more person to the audience when your 7-year-old son performs his ear-piercing violin rendition of Silent Night, or your grossly overweight daughter appears as a manger animal?
We of the non-religious persuasion are not curmudgeons. Quite the opposite, actually. I think we’re often more filled with the spirit of the season than many of our “religious” friends. And it’s not just the spirit we call booze! We don't feel the need to bust out a religious holiday in order to have an excuse for doing what people should do all the time anyway. We don’t need the guilt or fear of organized religion to make us "do unto others as we would have done unto us.” We heed the Golden Rule on principle, and we're mindful of the power of "karmageddeon!"
Now, before you make me wear a new kind of letter on my pinafore, put an armband on my sleeve, or send over the bible-thumpers to save my poor soul from eternal damnation, let me type out loud that I’m not an atheist. Technically, I’m not agnostic either. By definition, an atheist, in the broadest sense of the term, is one who does not believe in any God or deity. Operative word: any.
To say one is agnostic, by definition, is to believe that the truth of a deity or other metaphysical power is unknowable. We could get into the semantics of this, but really. Why?
I consider myself simply a non-religious person. I do believe in the power of The Universe; I do not believe in any one God. I go with what I know and in this I have tremendous faith. For instance:
I have faith that I will, in fact, eat all of the orange cinnamon rolls if left alone with them.
I have faith that at least two people at some holiday gathering will irritate me to the point of having to keep a glass of “spirit” to my lips for hours on end in a gallant effort not to tell them to shut the hell up!
I have faith in inherent good.
I have faith that The Universe will never stop surprising me.
I have faith that as long as we continue to rise above the mire, we will continue not to get dirty… and I’m not a fan of dirt.
Now I'm wondering if I need to point out that Faith and Belief are two very different things. Belief is based in circumstances concreted into our own personal facts. For instance:
I believe that one must be cautious after dark.
I believe that four martinis will make just about anyone wear a lampshade.
I believe that no matter what, I cannot change – by choice or desire – the ultimate outcome of anything.
I believe that those without faith in their friendships are destined to chase something they’ll never catch.
I believe in my hairstylist’s innate sense of confidentiality.
I know you can’t change what other people want or need to believe.
I take great comfort in knowing that I will never be confused with a Christmas Catholic or Hanukkah Jew. I know what I know and that’s enough, thank you very much. Happy celebrations of whatever, Dear Readers!
First, I would like to offer some advice on how to gracefully accept “no” as an answer.
1. Do not ask “why not?” It’s in poor form.
2. Do not plead or bribe. The answer will now be an agitated “no!”
3. Appreciate that your non-religious, non-conformist friend(s) will find a way to avoid you at the holidays going forward if you don’t respect their holiday traditions - or lack thereof.
[Sidebar: When you say no – to anyone for any reason – it is absolutely NOT necessary to offer up an explanation. When faced with an invitation that makes you want to run screaming to the back of your closet with a bottle of vodka rather than accept, your options are few: lie (always a bad idea); be truthful and risk hurting someone’s feelings; or silence. I recommend the third.]
I think we'd all like you to spend a little time mulling over why you’re so dead-set on getting us to your little shindigs in the first place. Is it really worth how annoyed I'd be just so you can add one more person to the audience when your 7-year-old son performs his ear-piercing violin rendition of Silent Night, or your grossly overweight daughter appears as a manger animal?
We of the non-religious persuasion are not curmudgeons. Quite the opposite, actually. I think we’re often more filled with the spirit of the season than many of our “religious” friends. And it’s not just the spirit we call booze! We don't feel the need to bust out a religious holiday in order to have an excuse for doing what people should do all the time anyway. We don’t need the guilt or fear of organized religion to make us "do unto others as we would have done unto us.” We heed the Golden Rule on principle, and we're mindful of the power of "karmageddeon!"
Now, before you make me wear a new kind of letter on my pinafore, put an armband on my sleeve, or send over the bible-thumpers to save my poor soul from eternal damnation, let me type out loud that I’m not an atheist. Technically, I’m not agnostic either. By definition, an atheist, in the broadest sense of the term, is one who does not believe in any God or deity. Operative word: any.
To say one is agnostic, by definition, is to believe that the truth of a deity or other metaphysical power is unknowable. We could get into the semantics of this, but really. Why?
I consider myself simply a non-religious person. I do believe in the power of The Universe; I do not believe in any one God. I go with what I know and in this I have tremendous faith. For instance:
I have faith that I will, in fact, eat all of the orange cinnamon rolls if left alone with them.
I have faith that at least two people at some holiday gathering will irritate me to the point of having to keep a glass of “spirit” to my lips for hours on end in a gallant effort not to tell them to shut the hell up!
I have faith in inherent good.
I have faith that The Universe will never stop surprising me.
I have faith that as long as we continue to rise above the mire, we will continue not to get dirty… and I’m not a fan of dirt.
Now I'm wondering if I need to point out that Faith and Belief are two very different things. Belief is based in circumstances concreted into our own personal facts. For instance:
I believe that one must be cautious after dark.
I believe that four martinis will make just about anyone wear a lampshade.
I believe that no matter what, I cannot change – by choice or desire – the ultimate outcome of anything.
I believe that those without faith in their friendships are destined to chase something they’ll never catch.
I believe in my hairstylist’s innate sense of confidentiality.
I know you can’t change what other people want or need to believe.
I take great comfort in knowing that I will never be confused with a Christmas Catholic or Hanukkah Jew. I know what I know and that’s enough, thank you very much. Happy celebrations of whatever, Dear Readers!
Friday, December 10, 2010
Ah, the Romance
I. Watch. Too. Many. Romantic. Movies.
I’ve seen a lot of tragedy in my life – the vast majority of which was completely out of my control. For a control freak like me, that’s a tough nut. Nonetheless, those are the facts. That said, one would think I could do a better job controlling the things I can… like not watching romantic movies.
I figure these are written by women who, just like me, want to live in this crazy fantasyland where, through a series of serendipitous circumstances, whatever it is we want most in this world can be ours. I know it’s completely irrational and that spending even a minute hoping it’s possible is a minute wasted.
But still…
I dedicate hours on end to classics like Philadelphia Story (though in my defense, it’s one of the best movies ever produced) His Girl Friday, Sabrina (the original) and Adam’s Rib. I can spend entire weekends watching the romance-a-thon on Turner Classic Movies.
But I’m not a romance snob…
I grab a tissue box to watch The Lake House every time it comes on just to wrap myself in the feeling of true dedication to a relationship.
And who in their right mind wouldn’t pop some corn to watch When Harry Met Sally, You’ve Got Mail, Kate & Leopold – or any Meg Ryan romantic comedy for that matter? You know those are always heading for an uplifting and hopeful end.
Love Actually, My Best Friend’s Wedding, Notting Hill, High Fidelity, About a Boy, Did You Hear About the Morgans?, Dying Young, Autumn in New York, The Truth About Cats and Dogs, Serendipity. Oh! The Holiday! *swoons*
Really, I could name thousands.
It’s a freakin’ sickness with me, these movies. Part escapism, part wishful thinking, part artistry and part hopeful romantic… I just keep curling up on the sofa to watch, knowing perfectly well that in the end, I’ll only be one of two things: hopeful, or wrung-out depressed.
I wonder how many of the romantic comedies are written by men, and of those, how many are married? Are they all full of witty banter and graceful handling at home, or are they just a bunch of schmuggs?
I’m not sure how to go about breaking this bad habit, though frankly, I’m not convinced I really want to give up on the possibilities these movies present. Sure, it’s completely unrealistic to think those wonderful scenarios can play out in real life… but if someone thought to write it, surely it's not completely impossible.
*sighs*
Now that I’m done with that topic, this seems like a good time to talk about popcorn. How about giving up the non-biodegradable microwave popcorn bags and try this. Get a lunch sack, fill it with a ½ cup of popcorn kernels, fold the top over twice (do not clip or staple or do anything else stupid). Pop it into the microwave on high for 2-3 minutes or until the popping is down to 2-3 per second. Now top with about a pound of real butter and salt it like crazy! Voila!
I’ve seen a lot of tragedy in my life – the vast majority of which was completely out of my control. For a control freak like me, that’s a tough nut. Nonetheless, those are the facts. That said, one would think I could do a better job controlling the things I can… like not watching romantic movies.
I figure these are written by women who, just like me, want to live in this crazy fantasyland where, through a series of serendipitous circumstances, whatever it is we want most in this world can be ours. I know it’s completely irrational and that spending even a minute hoping it’s possible is a minute wasted.
But still…
I dedicate hours on end to classics like Philadelphia Story (though in my defense, it’s one of the best movies ever produced) His Girl Friday, Sabrina (the original) and Adam’s Rib. I can spend entire weekends watching the romance-a-thon on Turner Classic Movies.
But I’m not a romance snob…
I grab a tissue box to watch The Lake House every time it comes on just to wrap myself in the feeling of true dedication to a relationship.
And who in their right mind wouldn’t pop some corn to watch When Harry Met Sally, You’ve Got Mail, Kate & Leopold – or any Meg Ryan romantic comedy for that matter? You know those are always heading for an uplifting and hopeful end.
Love Actually, My Best Friend’s Wedding, Notting Hill, High Fidelity, About a Boy, Did You Hear About the Morgans?, Dying Young, Autumn in New York, The Truth About Cats and Dogs, Serendipity. Oh! The Holiday! *swoons*
Really, I could name thousands.
It’s a freakin’ sickness with me, these movies. Part escapism, part wishful thinking, part artistry and part hopeful romantic… I just keep curling up on the sofa to watch, knowing perfectly well that in the end, I’ll only be one of two things: hopeful, or wrung-out depressed.
I wonder how many of the romantic comedies are written by men, and of those, how many are married? Are they all full of witty banter and graceful handling at home, or are they just a bunch of schmuggs?
I’m not sure how to go about breaking this bad habit, though frankly, I’m not convinced I really want to give up on the possibilities these movies present. Sure, it’s completely unrealistic to think those wonderful scenarios can play out in real life… but if someone thought to write it, surely it's not completely impossible.
*sighs*
Now that I’m done with that topic, this seems like a good time to talk about popcorn. How about giving up the non-biodegradable microwave popcorn bags and try this. Get a lunch sack, fill it with a ½ cup of popcorn kernels, fold the top over twice (do not clip or staple or do anything else stupid). Pop it into the microwave on high for 2-3 minutes or until the popping is down to 2-3 per second. Now top with about a pound of real butter and salt it like crazy! Voila!
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