Monday, December 25, 2006

BEGIN THE TRIANGLE

James Brown is the first one. Who's next? Celebrity deaths always seem to come in threes, don't they? Who else is sick? Anyone? Anyone? Beuller? Beuller? Anyway, rest in peace, Godfather.

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On to a more uplifting topic: It is Christmas Day. Believe me, I didn't stay up all night, waiting to see if I could hear the jingle of bells and/or see the dark shape of a flying sleigh inking across the early-morning sky. Nope, I just woke up early, for no apparent reason.

I love Christmas mornings. Always have. Back in the day, it was because I was guaranteed to get gifts and, to me, getting gifts was what it was all about. Sure, I'd gone to a Catholic grade school and so I was well-versed in the real Reason for the Season, but that, to me, was somewhat secondary. I'd bought in to the maelstrom of exchanging of gifts and the materialistic Yuletide Yearnings. I have changed a bit, since I was 12 and 13. (Thank God! If I still had the same mentality, things would be--shall we say?--a little wrong, a little off.)

Now I see it as a time to get together with family whom I don't see nearly enough and a time to basically just spend with each other. The gifts are secondary to me, now. Actually, the gifts are now bumped down to number three on my list, after Family and Jesus. It is what it is. I have had a bit of a spiritual re-awakening, recently, and I have, without reserve and quite willingly, welcomed Jesus and the Lord into my heart. And I feel good about that. I feel no shame nor do I feel less-than to admit that fact.

[Emotional Blatherings Alert]

How could I feel shame over the acceptance? I am in the process of receiving the greatest gift I could ever receive: A new outlook on life. That doesn't come 'round every day. I believe that things most-definitely happen for a reason and I believe that God and/or Jesus work through people and/or events to gently mold a human being's life into the shape in which it had been meant. I believe this, too: A couple/three weeks ago, I was reaching the end of my rope. I had been treading water in the same vat of quicksand for the last ten years and I was getting tired--physically, mentally and, without a doubt, spiritually. One night I was sitting at my computer desk, doing the same fucking thing I had done for the previous indeterminate days, and I remember looking to my left and seeing the picture of Jesus that my mom had painted 30+ years ago, the picture in which it seems His eyes follow me to all corners of the room and the picture in which His emotional makeup always seemed to mirror mine to a T. My eyes filled with tears of shame and frustration. I'd said aloud to the picture something like, "Jesus, I can't do this shit anymore. I'm just getting so fucking sick and tired of this life. It's pointless. My left arm ain't working like it should, I've been perilously close to arrest, my job performance is suffering and my supervisors seem to be getting tired of my shenanigans. I need help, Jesus."

This is not to say that there had been a bright flash of life and I had miraculously leapt to my feet and clicked my heels together and skipped whistling into the sunset. No. But I will say this: I think that I, with the help of a Higher Power (sorry, but it seems to be true), had planted a seed in my mind, a seed which would bear fruit a few days later when I voluntarily checked myself in to a place in which they deal specifically with dependencies. Thus starting myself on the path to a life with far more beauty and far less internally-generated suffering.

So on this Christmas Day, I may not get the train set that I'd wanted, nor the remote control car upon which I had had my eyes. I may not get any clothes and I may not get any gift certificates. Hell, I'm good with that. Give me a box of Ramen noodles and I'd still be good with that. I've gotten the greatest gift for which I could even have hoped to ask: A loving family and a genuine foot in the right direction towards the Utopia of Sobriety.

Is Sobriety a Utopia? Oftentimes, not at all. Is the alternative the virtual antithesis of Utopia? Without a doubt.

So, that's that. I awoke early today and I saw neither reindeer in the sky nor fat ageless elves zipping down chimneys. It doesn't matter to me; I believe that I've gotten my gift already....

I think my sister is going to get me some Ramen noodles. Rock on!

MERRY CHRISTMAS! HO-HOE-WHORE!

4 comments:

Melissa said...

Er, I forgot you wanted Ramen noodles. You can't eat the sweater, but I hope you like it anyway. :)

I'm glad you reached out for help, and it was (and is) there for you.

Rock on!

Adamity73 said...

Yeah, thanks for the sweater, sissy. I'm not gonna eat it. In fact, coincidentally enough, I'm going to eat LESS so that it fits me better. My tummy is kind of accentuated by it. More motivation to trim the tum and beef up the shoulders. If I do that, I'm not going to be able to walk past a mirror in that sweater w/out pulling *it* out and twisting off a shot. I tell you what...

Nanette said...

Aw, I'm glad that you have a reason to get up in the morning--the blogosphere is a much better place with you in it :)

Adamity73 said...

Thankee sai, Miss Georgia "Nighthawk" O'Keefe!