Hazy Reflections and Vague Strategies

As 2022 builds up to its festive finalé, I can't help but feel a bit wrung out. 

As descendants of WASPs (White Anglo-Saxon Protestants), my family is one that loves at least three different Christmas celebrations, all bedecked with the figurative bells and holly. Historically I have been known to jump into the ceremony and excitement of the season wholeheartedly, with presents at least planned if not bought and wrapped, a December playlist on repeat, and the luscious comfort of being around loved ones top priority in a period that celebrates togetherness and family. 

This year, my despondency in palpable. Barring the nightcap and gown, I have taken on a definite Scroogey disposition, bah-humbugging my way through carols-by-candlelight and family dinners, if not fabricating a false sense of holiday cheer that hardly matches up to the real thing. 

Maybe it is because I am not actually on holiday and instead still amidst the hustle and grind, or maybe I am simply feeling the effects of a year that has involved a lot of emotional and physical heavy-lifting (I have been involved in a couple of different home-moves). Maybe its the fact that I have not left Cape Town yet for the Breede River, my earthly paradise, and a summer in the city is feeling more over-bearing than light and fresh. Whatever the combination of reasons, I am using this blog-space to peer inwards, hoping to glean some insight into how to enter into a new year refreshed and excited rather than tired and cynical. 

 I don't particularly want to analyse the ups and downs of the past year, as I don't think it will make for fun writing or reading. I'm hoping to instead acknowledge the rough patches, note their contribution to the fortitude of my character, and hopefully feel slightly more in control of my journey forward. It would be nice not to feel as though I am being dragged behind time's barreling quest towards the horizon of its future, without a clear sense of my surroundings. Ideally, I am stepping into January emboldened my my ability to get to the other side of things without completely falling to pieces, and motivated to surge forth and conquer the next set of challenges. 

The motivation is the critical missing piece. What I have instead, and this could be used to my advantage, is General Irritation. 

General Irritation, and I'm picturing here a humourless General in army fatigues stamping about with a furrowed brow, has an energy to him that it would be foolish to overlook. Maybe I don't have a sunny outlook and blind enthusiasm, but my General Irritation is hopefully pissed off enough with the state of things to get my sleeves rolled up and my work boots on. I am frustrated by life and its unsympathetic churning, but frustration is an energy. Instead of having a General Irritation that lashes out at innocent bystanders, mine could potentially be used to create positive outcomes. 

I don't think the Christmas spirit is going to suddenly envelope me this year. I am not going to have thoughtful individual prezzies under the tree. I probably will probably turn in early on New Year's Eve. However. I have a GI on the inside who could be my secret weapon. 

If you're not feeling pepped up by the glitzy summer instagrams and Christmas plannings - I say embrace it. Put your feet up and rest while you can and if you still have a To Do list as long as your arm, doing things angrily is still doing them. You might accidentally enjoy them in spite of yourself - however unlikely that seems. 

Over and out.

Hazy Reflections - Ballpoint, 2022