There is a certain numbness that comes over us. Maybe this is a state of disbelief. We hear things as if the news is not real yet, we know this is real. We know what’s happening but somehow, the news is like a funnel of water and we lose to it like water loses to a drain. At best, all we can do is surrender. 

No one is ever ready for bad news. Then again, no one is ever truly ready for life when life happens. No one expects bad news to happen on days like Christmas. No one expects the phone to ring and have someone on the other end say, “You better get home fast.”
I started to tell you about Christmas Eve on the farm. At the time, I was four months into my agreement with the legal system. I was somewhat coasting and flying beneath the radar but the rules on the farm were hard to avoid.

The day is December 24, 2021, Christmas Eve. The time and date is interesting to me. The weather interests me as well. We are currently seeing light snowfall, which will make this a white Christmas. It is shortly after 4:00am and according to my time zone, my side of the world is mainly sleeping. But not me. And not for bad reasons either. I am up because I have work to do. Plus, I’m up so that I could have my coffee and sit with you for a while. Know what I mean?

I think back to this day and this time of year in December of 1989. I think back to what my ideas would have been about the year 2021 or better yet, I think about the sound of the upcoming year, 2022, and what this would have sounded like to me when I was 17.

It’s hard to believe this but here we are again. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and shortly after, the new year will come. It’s crazy to think about the last two years. It’s even crazier to think about where we’ve been and what we’ve gone through. Of course, there have been ups and downs, losses and gains.
Most of us have gone through different degrees of separation. We’ve lived through historic times yet, none of this is over; at least, not any time soon.
There were times when we had to breathe out so someone else could breathe in. But here we are again at a moment when we’ve spun once more, completely around the sun. It’s hard to believe that this is where we are. And here we are, back again in more ways than one.

You hear the word “Roommate” and you never know who you’re going to get. Safe to say that I’ve had different roommates in my life. The same can be said about coworkers and new hires. The same can be said about a new student in a classroom or in a focus group or on a team. You never know if this will be a fit. You never know if the change will go smoothly.
I have been the “New guy” before. I’ve had the “New Guy” jitters. I had worries and wonders.
Will I like them? Will they like me? Are we going to be friends or teammates or just coworkers and two people who have to coexist in this world?

I suppose I came to a line in the sand. I suppose this was a line that I couldn’t cross. I had to hold onto something. I had to realize my worth; but more, I had to realize there is a difference between living and existing. The choice was mine.
Safe to say that I had to allow myself an honest assessment. I had to dig deep on this one. I had to look around and see where my life is balanced and on the other end, what throws me off.

There is a saying that goes: you can’t have a positive life with a negative mind. Let’s say that again. You can’t have a positive life with a negative mind. This makes sense. I’m sure this made sense to the author, Joyce Meyer. I’m sure this makes sense to everyone, except of course, for those who live with anxiety. This is when the thought machine races out of control but even in the depths of my most anxious times, I knew that I could never have a positive life with a negative mind. Then again, knowing this fact was like adding another item on the list.

I wonder where the time has gone. I wonder if this is what we expected the end of 2021 to look like. And who knows? Maybe the world can pull off a trick and figure out a way to improve. Maybe . . .
Or, maybe something like this will stand as a tale to tell in future stories when teachers teach future students about the great pandemic. Should this be true and this is a document that anyone reads in the future, then please allow me to explain my social view without favoring or leaning towards any agenda or position. But to be clear, I remember the shutdown perfectly.

Sure, I think it’s great that people donate. I think that charity comes from the heart. Of course it does. It’s great when people get out of their house at least once a year and head down to the local homeless shelter. They hand out presents on Christmas or serve food on Thanksgiving.
Sure . . .
I think it’s great. My challenge is not the charitable heart; but more, I become frustrated with virtue signaling. I can’t stand the hand in the air as if to say, “Look at me. Look at what I’m doing!” as if their work automatically gets them a seat for the resurrection.