Chris Herrington decided years ago that his reality was much more fun…
and he’s ready to tell you why.
Sit back and relax.
It’s going to be a bumpy ride.
Holiday Cheer
Holiday cheer? Okay, we all know that the holidays are the most depressing time of the year. Expectations are high and so is resentment. Old feelings stay chilly cold or boiling hot throughout the entire year in hopes that somehow the ghost of Christmas past will somehow bury the hatchet in someone’s cranium and then at the funeral the eulogy will cover up those feelings with a layer of malted beverage fueled remorse in light of the dearly departed’s having gotten exactly what he deserved, Bless God. Okay, bah humbug!
I like to, or may I prefer to, take the offensive when it comes to hard feelings. I do not want to have to avoid people, have to shut down in their presence, or end up bottling my feelings until I blow up in a fit of self-righteous, righteous indignation. I say that I prefer to do this, but sometimes I do not succeed, and I do not always get what I want. You too?
It is one thing to intellectualize how you feel into a solid plan of action that you might practice over and over until it is a honed routine ready to deliver on queue just at that right moment, with the timing of comedy and the accuracy of a well-oiled machine, but then reality is quite a different animal. With the pressure on, and the last minute shopping to do, and the anticipation of the holidays stacking up like airplanes on a radar, we can make all the accommodations we want in our minds, but when feelings flair up and others break through our defenses, it is game on, and the sleeves are not only rolled up; they are torn off.
Sometimes though, if the Keebler elves have gotten a text message to Santa’s workshop elves and the elf union votes on double emotional relief, the message does not get blurred, and we hit pay dirt instead of, in East Texas, red dirt. I decided to go and visit my sister. We have not spent all that much time together for whatever reason for whatever length of time, and my stress level was however high about it, and about doing anything about it. I want to live my own truth: If there’s a problem, deal with it.
Getting in the car and driving 3 hours to put myself in a situation where I have no control is like being tied up an a stuck elevator in the dark to me. I’m not only uncomfortable, it makes we feel emotionally vulnerable. On the racquetball court I have spent thousands of hours by myself working out scenarios that may include downright freakish occurrences so that when something goes terribly wrong, I can feel free to make a selection from among the many moves I have stored up in my muscle memory for just such an occasion. When it comes to certain social situations, I have no moves to give. I’m a terrible public speaker; my entire system goes on red alert. I can play harmonica on stage without even blinking, not that I am in any way a competent musician; I just simply have a Daredevil lack of fear when it comes to standing on stage to blow a harp. One of my friends remarked about my talent for playing harp by commenting that my ability range is so extreme that I both suck and blow at the same time! But when it comes to putting myself on the firing line, it’s an experience that I can examine like a raspberry seed in my mouth, but I cannot understand it any more than a “kick me” sign on my back. I’m overly self-conscious, mono-dimensionally nervous, and unilaterally out of control.
Okay, so I was out of my comfort zone. One thing that definitely helped was that my sister was totally in tune with it. It was whatever I wanted to do. She was up for anything, and she went with the flow. We never got hung up, and her whole family was wise to it. Everybody made the entire thing as easy as it could have been. It’s wonderful when everyone is on board and ready to make something good happen. Congress could definitely have taken a lesson, I’m sure.
Okay, so we met for a few hours, went out to breakfast, went to the art store, a completely neutral location, and then came back to her house to eat pizza. How easy was that? No difficult moment, no awkward questions, no uneasy “I told you so’s.” The whole thing was slicker than deer guts on a door knob, and I could barely tell where the anxiety gave in and where the warmth and gentleness started up. All I know is that Christmas is off to a good start.
I was so nervous about the entire project that I forgot to call my wife and let her know that I had gotten there in the first place, so I was out of pocket for 12 hours. I called her on Sunday morning, and she said, “Where were you last night? I left you 3 messages! Oh, Honey, I’m glad to hear your voice!” Is this National Backwards Day? Everyone is just letting me get by with being my own usual inexcusable self. I may even read my e-mails today. I have no idea what will happen next. Merry Christmas? Oh-lay!
runningturtle87
Having completed 32 years of public school service, Chris Herrington lives, with his wife, in Appleby, Texas, and his writing consists of blogging and essay writing concerning an array of topics including education, mediation, self-development, and human interests. He teaches at the Martin School of Choice, plays racquetball, and enjoys his job.
Chris Herrington can be reached at herrington@everythingnac.com
