Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Hanging with the Turkey...

Thankfully, I will not be spending tomorrow with extended family. We will be doing what we always do...whatever we damn well please. We do not travel. We do not leave the house. We barely even get dressed.

This reaction to the holidays is two-fold. We live a long way from anyone and can't afford to travel but it is also philosophical. How many times do people bitch and moan about being with their family on the holidays, making themselves (and perhaps their families) miserable. I know it certainly makes their co-workers wish they would shut the hell up about it. I don't hear about it so much where I work now but in my last job, thats ALL everyone wanted to talk dysfunctional their families were and it was such a chore to have to either travel to be together or it was such a chore to have to cook for everyone that was coming over. I always wanted to look them right in the eye and say "Well I guess we should just nail you to the cross, you being such a noble martyr and all..." Since I worked at a "Christian" organization though, I actually held my tongue.

There are a couple ways that I can see approaching the situation of thanksgiving...either tell yourself that you are going to be putting yourself into a stressful situation and do your relaxation and meditation exercises on it before hand so that you can be the proverbial pillar in a windstorm or you can just say "screw it" and stay home. Both exercises work wonderfully.

So here is today's poem which has always been one of my favorites...Just in time for your holiday stress...remember to breathe and as Sylvia Plath said "soaking ones head in beer always helps". And we all know what a happy ending Sylvia had...

Not Waving But Drowning-Stevie Smith

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

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