What's the first thing you think of when I say the name, "Scrooge"?
I'll bet it isn't the 'after' picture. It's probably the 'before' picture. Which is weird because it's the story of how someone changed from the before to the after. You'd think the after picture would be the one that stuck. Hm. I think that the "after" picture was the one Dickens originally wanted to leave with people.
My all-time favorite film rendition of his famous short story, "A Christmas Carol" is the one which stars Patrick Stewart, produced in 1999. Mr. Stewart did a far better job of projecting the inner anguish of the man - and the inevitable gratitude and joy - than anyone I've ever seen portray the character.
Although I love the "after" picture that Dickens paints of his famous character, I still hesitate to call anyone "Scrooge." It conjures up - for most people - a mean-spiritedness that overshadows and poisons interactions with others in a way that frustrates even the best efforts to include the person. Yet the story of Scrooge delves into the reasons for his sour disposition. Life had not been kind to him so he was not kind in return.
I must admit that a lot of the time I tend to avoid all the interactions and festivities that go on at this time of year, and I'm sure that some people think that I'm a "Scrooge". In some ways I guess I am. I'm not sure if it has to do with my own introverted nature (probably a lot of it right there) or just that I've seen so much that goes on in the name of "Christmas spirit" which - to me - just isn't.
Loneliness dogs my steps at this time of year, something like a hungry wolf who isn't just satisfied with the rodents he finds along the trail but is after bigger game: me. Sometimes I wonder why I even go to the trouble of decorating and going to social functions. If I go, I feel out of place, excluded. I probably am not, but that's my perception. Even in a crowd, I can relate a lot to the child Scrooge, being left behind when his school mates were off to spend Christmas break with their families - feeling like he didn't have anywhere he felt accepted. Many times I've felt like that. Sometimes I've even wanted to check out. Especially when I have been reminded of just how alone I am, how people just tolerate me and don't "get" me at all.
It is a short step from that perception of non-acceptance, that feeling of utter misery, to putting a hard crust over my heart and not letting anyone in ... so as to avoid being more hurt. Probably I have already done that in some ways.
Some days are better than others. I'm up, I'm optimistic, I'm ready to face the world. Life is good.
Some days, however, it takes all I have just to get out of bed and face the great gaping black hole of not fitting in anywhere. I feel that I don't fit in at work - there I'm "too religious." Or just "too weird." I don't fit in at church because there, I'm not "religious enough." Or just "too weird." On such days, I cling by my fingernails to the slogan, 'one day at a time' because if I think about the abyss of endless days looming in front of me, I could easily fall into it and lose myself in despair.
At such times, the festivities and the usual chit-chat only serve to highlight for me how "apart" I feel. And I can fully understand why the highest rates of suicides are at Christmas-time. The crowded streets, the even more crowded stores, and all the talk about family get-togethers and parties and so forth, all serve to heighten my misery. There's nothing wrong with parties, family get-togethers, and all the festivities this season has to offer. It's just that when a person doesn't feel accepted or appreciated, maybe not even loved, the last thing he or she wants to attend is another social function that highlights how excluded he or she feels. It doesn't mean that the person is anti-social or that he or she hates Christmas. I happen to like Christmas - just not all the frenetic activity surrounding it (or any other family-oriented holiday going), the pushing people around in stores (jostling elbows and people saying "excuse me" all the time - which, after the 100th time I've heard it, sounds more like "move your fat rear" than "I need to get past you.") That, combined with the social expectations, the family obligations, and so forth, tend to make me want to do my Christmas shopping online and vastly limit my social and family obligations. Most folks call that a clear-cut case of 'bah humbug.' .... I kind of don't.
I prefer, instead, to rid myself of what drives me crazy about all the crowds and so forth, to dissociate myself from the idea - however accepted it may be - of reciprocity (you give me something so now, I'm obligated to give you something) and of one-upmanship (Aunt Sue had us to her place last year and she had a sumptuous feast; we have to outdo her this year at our place), and instead take a trip in my mind to a dripping cave in a hillside in Middle-Eastern springtime to visit a little baby. His mom has wrapped him tightly in strips of cloth like a mummy is wrapped, and placed him into a hollowed out rock (nothing wooden in that place except perhaps the pitchfork to toss hay into the rock manger). That humble scene brings home to me the wonder of the distance God traveled in order to become one of us - all for love. Not that we loved Him, or that we even COULD - but that He loved us first.
When I focus on that - I remember that there is definitely something worthwhile to celebrate.
I'll bet it isn't the 'after' picture. It's probably the 'before' picture. Which is weird because it's the story of how someone changed from the before to the after. You'd think the after picture would be the one that stuck. Hm. I think that the "after" picture was the one Dickens originally wanted to leave with people.
My all-time favorite film rendition of his famous short story, "A Christmas Carol" is the one which stars Patrick Stewart, produced in 1999. Mr. Stewart did a far better job of projecting the inner anguish of the man - and the inevitable gratitude and joy - than anyone I've ever seen portray the character.
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| Image found through Google at : http://southernchristmascarol.blogspot.com/2009/01/ fred-nephew-good-ol-boy.html |
I must admit that a lot of the time I tend to avoid all the interactions and festivities that go on at this time of year, and I'm sure that some people think that I'm a "Scrooge". In some ways I guess I am. I'm not sure if it has to do with my own introverted nature (probably a lot of it right there) or just that I've seen so much that goes on in the name of "Christmas spirit" which - to me - just isn't.
Loneliness dogs my steps at this time of year, something like a hungry wolf who isn't just satisfied with the rodents he finds along the trail but is after bigger game: me. Sometimes I wonder why I even go to the trouble of decorating and going to social functions. If I go, I feel out of place, excluded. I probably am not, but that's my perception. Even in a crowd, I can relate a lot to the child Scrooge, being left behind when his school mates were off to spend Christmas break with their families - feeling like he didn't have anywhere he felt accepted. Many times I've felt like that. Sometimes I've even wanted to check out. Especially when I have been reminded of just how alone I am, how people just tolerate me and don't "get" me at all.
It is a short step from that perception of non-acceptance, that feeling of utter misery, to putting a hard crust over my heart and not letting anyone in ... so as to avoid being more hurt. Probably I have already done that in some ways.
Some days are better than others. I'm up, I'm optimistic, I'm ready to face the world. Life is good.
Some days, however, it takes all I have just to get out of bed and face the great gaping black hole of not fitting in anywhere. I feel that I don't fit in at work - there I'm "too religious." Or just "too weird." I don't fit in at church because there, I'm not "religious enough." Or just "too weird." On such days, I cling by my fingernails to the slogan, 'one day at a time' because if I think about the abyss of endless days looming in front of me, I could easily fall into it and lose myself in despair.
At such times, the festivities and the usual chit-chat only serve to highlight for me how "apart" I feel. And I can fully understand why the highest rates of suicides are at Christmas-time. The crowded streets, the even more crowded stores, and all the talk about family get-togethers and parties and so forth, all serve to heighten my misery. There's nothing wrong with parties, family get-togethers, and all the festivities this season has to offer. It's just that when a person doesn't feel accepted or appreciated, maybe not even loved, the last thing he or she wants to attend is another social function that highlights how excluded he or she feels. It doesn't mean that the person is anti-social or that he or she hates Christmas. I happen to like Christmas - just not all the frenetic activity surrounding it (or any other family-oriented holiday going), the pushing people around in stores (jostling elbows and people saying "excuse me" all the time - which, after the 100th time I've heard it, sounds more like "move your fat rear" than "I need to get past you.") That, combined with the social expectations, the family obligations, and so forth, tend to make me want to do my Christmas shopping online and vastly limit my social and family obligations. Most folks call that a clear-cut case of 'bah humbug.' .... I kind of don't.
I prefer, instead, to rid myself of what drives me crazy about all the crowds and so forth, to dissociate myself from the idea - however accepted it may be - of reciprocity (you give me something so now, I'm obligated to give you something) and of one-upmanship (Aunt Sue had us to her place last year and she had a sumptuous feast; we have to outdo her this year at our place), and instead take a trip in my mind to a dripping cave in a hillside in Middle-Eastern springtime to visit a little baby. His mom has wrapped him tightly in strips of cloth like a mummy is wrapped, and placed him into a hollowed out rock (nothing wooden in that place except perhaps the pitchfork to toss hay into the rock manger). That humble scene brings home to me the wonder of the distance God traveled in order to become one of us - all for love. Not that we loved Him, or that we even COULD - but that He loved us first.
When I focus on that - I remember that there is definitely something worthwhile to celebrate.
Can so relate to this post. Be well, my friend. There are lots of us feeling the same way. Know you are not alone and are loved. -Lisa
ReplyDeleteThat's good to know, Lisa, thanks! It's been a lonely old couple of weeks since Advent season started. The busy-ness means that I can't seem to find time to get together with good friends - with too many social obligations, not to mention work. hmm. I have to do something to rectify that. Hmmmmmm.
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