xmas passed

in a fairly bad movie - i think it was shall we dance - susan sarandon had a really good monologue, explaining to a detective that marriage is about bearing witness to another person's life. in the ups and downs of doing life alone, there are surreptitious moments when that speech pops into my brain. today, for instance, i finally mastered the roasted chicken. it was beautiful. for the first time ever, my bird turned out as pure perfection, as did the accompanying gravy. and no one bore witness. i, alone, was present to mark the occasion. each of those seemingly small things is no big deal, but thank god i'm not into stockpiling.

staying here instead of heading to regina or anywhere else has been alright. with the freakishly warm weather, the city has been a welcoming place to bum around in. enjoyed volunteering on xmas eve at a swank community supper downtown. we served 500 meals to guests from local women's and homeless shelters. the food was stunning - thanks to the acclaimed chef michael blackie - and i even got to offer script improvement tips to the other co-organizer, chris knight, who let's face it, made fairly problematic casting decisions for his newest show. xmas day brunch at nancy's provided tasty food and conversation, then claude and i took one for the team (seriously, don't bother). then reheated leftovers. a few pomegranate martinis and my amaretto tiramisu with friends, a little late-night deep talk, then poof -- it was boxing day and another xmas had been SURVIVED.

yup, xmas is an annual asshole who comes around like clockwork to press insistently at your door, ready to ooze through any crack in your doorway or armor to fill your cocoon with gingerbread and bing crosby and self-loathing. every year, she and her rat bastard entourage do their best to violently replace your soul with pap. vulnerable types can easily fall victim to seasonal reminders of what you don't have and messages of what you should want.

luckily, i - defiant and unfazed - don't buy into any of that, thanks mostly to a lack of nostalgic cues (xmas was barely more than a turkey dinner/sweater exchange in our house growing up). as for the good will part, well that's been covered by friends. oh urban tribe, you wondrous phenomenon, thanks for being so patient with me during my hermit spurts and for stepping in with bells on when companionship is especially appropriate. my circle may be tiny - ok, at times, singular - but it's cozy and comforting and not swathed in tinsel or mind-numbing blinking lights. i may not have an insider witness to the moments or details, but do you feel what i feel? like my back is covered. joy to the fucking world.


Blogger Polly Jones said...

I know exactly the line you've written about. I always thought it was a beautiful description of marriage and partnership...

But, I think the challenge is to first be able to bear witness to one's own life...if that makes any sense...to not just be caught in it; to not just be as others view you...to see yourself and own your existence. I think women especially run the risk of 'playing' a role for others. We need to sometimes be the sole witness to our lives - to own our moments and to have our own backs.

Cheers to another Christmas survived!

1:52 a.m.  

Post a Comment

<< Home