I don’t believe in Christmas
It sounds controversial, I know. But don’t get me wrong. I do have my own valid reasons but that’s barely the point here. For those people who do believe in the month of December to be the day of birth of Jesus Christ, well, I guess all I could feel for that is indifference. Let them do what they want and if I feel a need to inform them, then I will but on the whole, I stay in the sidelines, prepared.
Personal beliefs aside, when I think real hard about it, I guess having people believe in December and Christmas does have its benefits. In a war-struck world that we have now, where the air is polluted with hate and chaos, it’s a good thing that within the 12-month, 365-day year, there is that one little short 24-hour day that makes the people feel strangely compelled to do good, to be nice, and to act kind even to just one other person if not entirely everyone.
Truth be told, people should, in the first place, exude goodness to one another the whole year round. It should be maintained every day, every minute, every moment. However, the sad reality is that we humans — so imperfect, so faulty — are so incapable or rather more unwilling to show that much love. It actually requires a humongous amount of love to sustain a stream of goodness toward another person — a living entity separate from oneself. Unfortunately, it seems that our fragile human heart, whilst it can pump liters of blood, and our proud will, which is quite comparable to stone, will not deliver that much of the needed love to give to everyone even to those that really matter.
What a sad, sad thing indeed. But we humans make do with what we have. And since everyday of heart-felt goodness is not realistic, then we have, at least, appointed a day or the most, a month were everyone is entitled to doing positive things. It is quite an optimist way of saying this — better that one day or month of yuletide season than nothing at all. Sigh. By stating this, it is as though we are not fully using our capacity that we are settling for something lesser than what we can most definitely do to love.
In this season everyone is meant to do what is good and right. Between families, it’s time to fix feuds, spend time with each other, catch up what has been lost, and celebrate of what is there. Between friends, it’s also quite the same. It’s the moment to fix petty quarrels that shouldn’t have been there in the first place, bridge gaps that are passable though wide as rivers, and blossom in love that should always and continually stay. And, let us not forget what lies between us and the almighty God. If this one day or one month is all that we can humanly give, then better waste no time to give all the glory to Him, thanking for every little thing and apologizing for every little sin. Of course, we do this all with sincerity in our hearts because otherwise, we become machines, acting out of tradition or out of whim. Everything would hold no meaning and no importance without our hearts and minds focused in it.
All of these musings got me thinking for quite a long while. I really am just a human girl. And while I do desire within the depths of my being to radiate the goodness that is due to us to give to others every day, I still end up falling short of weeks and months not fully using my capability to love. I do, in a sense, maintain a sort of steady stream of treating people the right way and feeling nice toward them but while I thought I am capable of doing that, a time came when that steady stream of goodness got suddenly cut off. Hate entered. It is bitter and biting and strangely, it is also very satisfying. It is as intense as love but probably uses as much energy. It is like guilty pleasure. As the time went by, I learned to adapt as any other organism would. I didn’t have to explode as much as before. More mellow, more careful. Slowly, I was getting my control back and perhaps so will my maturity too.
