Good from bad

It's 3:30am Christmas morning and I've finally finished wrapping all the presents Darling Mother and I rushed around purchasing this week. I'm exausted, and honestly don't know how I'm going to get up in four hours for breakfast with our neighbours. Or how I'm going to muster up a whole day of Christmas cheer.
When I was younger I loved Christmas. The lights, the tree, the confusing carols tra-laa-ing about snow and sleighs while we were sweltering in thirty degree heat - I loved it all. Even a few years ago I remember counting down the sleeps, getting Christmas-ed up the whole month of December, and pushing through the mandatory family arguments to find that magic everyone talks about at this time of year.
But the past few years I haven't been able to find much (if any) of the elusive Christmas Spirit. At one of supposedly the happiest times of the year I seem to be finding myself dragging my feet in the cheer department. I still love the gift giving, and even with an incredibly tight budget this year, I've managed to shower my favourite people with gifts which I hope they will love. But even that was (horrifyingly) a struggle. And it seems I'm not the only one - so many people I've talked to the last few days seem to be feelin the same.
Friends and family are feeling lonely, sad, or just poor. Others are sick, anxious about looming problems, or have recently had a loved one pass away. Still more are just feeling like Christmas just came too fast and left them behind. For whatever reason it's just not the jolly season it should well be.
I went to church tonight and the readings, as is typical, were about the birth of Christ and the reason we celebrate this holiday in the first place - how he came into a world of pain and suffering to save us from the darkness. The Pastor talked about the beginnings of the Christmas Tree - a fir tree - (apparantly it was all Mr Martin Luther's idea - smart fella) and how it symbolised the growth of new life even in the deepest, coldest, darkest winter.
And I talked to my neighbour who's boys have been ill for the past 15 years, and still fight every day just to live without pain. She told me how the oldest one is still struggling to recover from surgery over a year ago, and how the youngest one is about to undergo a long process of similar procedures. And how a boy - the eldest's good freind who suffers from similar health problems - has just passed away. And, even with all that was happening in her life, the chance to spend Christmas with her family and neighbours was wonderous to her.
And I realised that maybe that's why so many people love Christmas so much - becuase even when everything is hell, Christmas - the ideal of goodness, and faith, and love that we celebrate through Jesus, and Santa, and just by giving gifts and spending time - that's why it's so important. It reminds us that even with all the bad stuff, deep down in the core of it all, this life is something special.
John reckons so too, so it must be true.

So, from me to you, I hope your Christmas is full of joy and happiness. But if it's not - if there's pain, or sadness, or loneliness, or if everything just seems too much, my thoughts and prayers are with you, and my hope is that you'll find some good at the heart of it all.
Merry Christmas.

Remembering what to forget

"…and that’s exactly how you make people forget - keep parsing the facts in half while folding in newer, harder to understand information until no one piece of data serves as a salient point anymore. Think of it as dispersant on a mental oil spill."

So this was John Mayer talking about BP's oil spill* in the Gulf of Mexico, but this resonated for me in so many other contexts, most prominently in the area of work/life.

Remember when you were a kid and you dreamed big? You dreamed of becoming a ballerina, or an astronuaght, or a prince/princess. Some parents may have reinforced these dreams - assuring you that anything was possible if you beleived in yourself - other parents may not have been so supportive. Whatever the case, you were sure as sure that when you were a big person you'd live out these dreams becuase dreams are possible.
And now you're all grown up and living that dream, right? No? I thought as much. Yes, it's true that as a child you really are just dreaming - it would be pretty tight in Windsor Castle if all the little girls in the world really grew up to become princesses. But what about the dreams you dreamed in high school, or at university, or even last year? How many of those did you fulfil? How many did you even honestly believe you could succeed at? Not many, eh?
Why? Probably not because you tried and didn't succeed. Probably more because you didn't even get around to trying, after someone told you you couldn't succeed. You see, that's how it is with success - there's all these people out there throwing reasons at you as to why you can't or won't reach that goal, telling you why you just aren't capable enough, imploring you to look down the safe road or the easy path. And eventually you forget that once upon a time you really could do anything, and the small child inside you gives away their fantastical dreams in favour of a 'more practical' profession.
But it doesn't have to be that way. Yes, we need lawyers, accountants, doctors, and the like. And I'm sure there's someone out there for whom that is honestly their dream career. But if it's not yours, why do it? Why spend such a large part of your life turning up to classes, cramming for exams, and sucking up to the big boss if in the end all it's going to get you is a pat on the back and a lot of regrets? Forget it. It's not worth the hastle.
Instead, take that big bowl of BS everyone's been filling with reasons you can't succeed, toss it down the sink, and forget about it. Then figure out what you really want to do, what really excites you here and now, and figure out how to do it. Maybe it won't work. But maybe it will and you'll be the next big self-made millionaire. Or at the very least you'll be doing what you love.

 
*I know, Wiki! But it does have quite the extensive explaination.

Freefalling

Last night a gentleman took me to heaven. With his hands and mouth he comforted, caressed, and thrilled me for hours. The gentleman was John Mayer. And no, (sadly) I did not sleep with him.
My friend Vodka and I were lucky enough to score front row (!) tickets to his Brisbane Concert. I'm not sure who was more excited, although I would suggest she would be considered more of a die-hard fan - she could guess the song simply by seeing which guitar he picked up! That said by the end of the night I had rekindled my love affair with John (yes, we are on first name basis - he looked at me dammit!), and only wish he was playing again tonight.
Yes, the media have given him a grilling lately, and he may not have the glitz and showiness of say Pink but, putting that aside I would suggest he gives good gig. In fact, the best of gig. His fingers move across the guitar like he is caressing a woman, and (save a tragic drop at the end) Mr Mayer moves around the stage with such ownership of the moment you can't take your eyes from him. And then he sings. Wow. I've spent many an hour trying to come up with the words to aptly describe his voice but, truth to tell, it's impossible. There's a smoothness there that lulls and calms you, and yet an underlying raspiness that's all sex and badness. It's good and evil perfectly combined. It makes it easy to see why the girls love him.
Now of course this magic, while almost totally John-created, also comes in part from his fantastic band. They were brilliant! And I have to give a shoutout to Robbie simply because he looks so very much like one Harold Bishop from Ramsay Street (of Neighbours soap fame, for all you non Aussies and Brits).
We drove home, V and I, thoroughly exhausted and exquisitely content. Best. Night. Ever.
And now, some photo love courtesy of Miss V. He's a bit of a looker.