I was in a cab with friends last night in Orchard Road and was scoffing the paltry decorations put up this year (with exception to the giant cupcake outside Taka, which at least looks like it could be eaten). But seriously, who am I to complain when I used to bemoan the extravagant consumerism of fluttery fake snow and giant Santa Clauses put up in previous years? I get so flabbergasted at how quick I am to complain at everything sometimes.
Now that it’s the last month of 2008, I have been feeling edgy and testy because of this strange desire to be more grounded. The world seems to be more lost. People around me seem to be more lost. And do I. Despite the fact that I’ve done more work, more travelling, more “accomplishy” things than I’ve ever done in previous years.
I remember the big Christmas family parties we used to have at the old Sommerville House. Every year, I would look forward to it, especially the Christmas Exchange part. And every year, I would burst out crying at the “lousy” gift I got. Even if I had won all the other prizes for the games. Even if my uncles and aunties had given me all the Barbies I needed for the year with the “real”presents.
And that is how I feel about myself right now. I have everything I need or desire. There are opportunities everywhere. And yet, with every festive season, I just seem to shed a tear or two about some things which I can’t seem to articulate. On one hand, I am slapping myself for the ingratitude. On the other hand, I am digging deeper to see if there are wounds/grouses/relationships that need healing, if there’s some spiritual insight/connection to be re-kindled, if there is some aspect of self-actualization I am still unaware of.
At this point, I realise that only the Big Guy up there can help figure this all out. (On a somewhat related note, one reason why I also can never get hyped up by December 25th is because it’s not Jesus’ real birthday. How could the shepherds have been tending their sheep in winter?)