Tonight's Poet Corner: Introspection

There's a lot I could talk about in this introspection, as we leave November behind and enter into another December and another official holiday season. There were moments this week that I enjoyed - positive feedback I received, time to have fun and even sing with my English students, collaboration with my Yearbook staff - and other moments that were more difficult. There's a lot of scary stuff going on in my country, which has not been new since November 8th of last year. I'm still focusing on a lot of personal creative writing, which is good, and I'm happy to continue pushing some of my energy toward that. But I don't really want to go into too much detail about any of those things.

Instead, I want to share different moments. Simple moments. Moments between me and the people I love.

Back on December 1st of 2015, Arden and I danced to Sara Bareilles' "December" in front of our Christmas tree, and I later played my original song, "Keep Me Warm (Through Cold December)." It was our way of getting into the Christmas spirit - we had done similar things when my sister was still living with us, listening to Vince Guaraldi's "A Charlie Brown Christmas" while hanging our new ornaments up and stringing lights around the living room. While Halloween is still barely hanging onto the first place spot when it comes to my favorite holidays, I love the Christmas season, and once December 1st hits, I'm all about partaking in the festivities - with some financial and emotional moderation, of course.

Not everyone is lucky enough to find joy in the season, regardless of whether they celebrate Christmas or Hanukkah or Yule or Kwanzaa or any other of the multiple winter holidays. They've had too many negative experiences, be it due to family or events in their lives or personal trials. I certainly would never want to spend time in this blog gushing over a holiday that quite a few people take umbrage against, and for good reason. So I won't. But again, I want to focus on moments, moments that are deeply personal to me and are important despite originally seeming small.

This year, Arden and I went to the Christmas tree lighting in our new town, and it is an extraordinary event to attend. From what we can tell, a lot of people from our town, plus residents from two neighboring cities, come to First Street to partake in it. Offices and businesses offer free hot cocoa and mulled cider. Kids not only get to pose with Santa, but also with Darth Vader, Han Solo, and Princess Leia in front of a Christmas tree. Once you get close to the actual waterfront, you can see the tree lit up at the end of the street - and while it's fairly small compared to trees I've seen during other lightings (including in my hometown), it's beautiful. Yes, it's a bunch of LED lights strung across a tree, but to see it with music in the background and so many people gathered together, including a lot of my high school students? It's amazing to see the community all arrive in one spot, for this one moment.

Once we got home, we were a bit too tired and out of it to set up our Christmas tree, and it wasn't until after ten PM that I thought about playing my "Cold December" song and realized that it was way too late in the night to do so. So, yeah, some of the traditions I wanted to partake in or had partaken in before fell by the wayside, at least for now. But one hadn't yet. Once Arden was ready, I went to my laptop and played, "December," by Sara Bareilles. And as the song progressed, my wife and I started to dance.

It's nice to have these moments even when the world seems so cold and so gray right now. To be able to have this intimate, solitary time with the most important person in my life is more than I could have ever asked for. We didn't do much with choreography, but we didn't need to. To just be together, to dance together, to have that moment together - that was what mattered. It reminded me of the other times I've spent with friends and family that have been simple and calm and full of quiet love, whether it was drinking Bailey's by the tree at my parents' place with my sister, or having Christmas ham with friends while still living in Valhalla, the apartment I shared with two of my closest buddies when I was a senior in college. Of course, dancing with my wife is a whole new level of connection, but it brought back those memories while also creating a new one. It was different than past December 1st's - but it was still a good December 1st.

I know things are terrifying right now. Trust me, if it weren't for the craziness of my job and my ability to use my writing and music to distract myself, I'd be curled up in the fetal position on the floor every day, hyperventilating. There is no guarantee that next year, we will still be able to preserve the rights and livelihoods that we've been fighting for and trying to keep since day one. My goal is to survive and help others who are in danger survive - but there's no telling how different my home and government will look when all is said and done. So I'm offering the best advice I have, not just for myself, but also for anyone else who's interested in it. It's not much, but here you go:

Look after your loved ones. Cherish the little moments you have with them. If you can support others who need compassion and love, then do so. Celebrate the holidays in a way that makes you the happiest, not in a way that seems accepted or publicly approved of. Make this December worthwhile for you and the people you care about. 

And when you can, dance.

Have a great night, a great weekend, and a great start to your December, everyone.