Sunday, December 10, 2017


I've never had a taste for celebration. I've beaten myself up about this over the years, figuring I was a mope, or a cynic, or that this was just another component of depression. After years of working as a musician while strangers celebrated, maybe I'd gotten detached from human high-spiritedness.

Even worse, my inner terrain was full of discontent and aggravation. I could have used some celebration! For years, I felt like I was a guy with a steep emotional downside and no upside.

In recent years I've re-landscaped my inner terrain via some adjustments of perspective. Tl;dr: I no longer perpetually probe around for what's missing or imperfect in a given moment, nor do I pull back the camera to view and judge how I come off from a third party view. I've let go of my hopes and dreams in the good way. And, finally, I've thinned out my agenda to focus on the things that give me real satisfaction. As a result of these small adjustments, the present moment always feels pretty good. Celebratory, even! But I still don't celebrate "occasions." I just don't get it.

I think, for most people, celebration represents a brief respite from their everyday sense of punishment. I find that appalling. I don't view life as punishment...even when it's punishing. It's all just a ride for our bemused entertainment. And if I needed relief from my normal state of mind, I can't imagine I'd find it in birthday cake and sparklers!

And most people see their lives as hanging upon a series of dramatic plot points. Graduation, new job, favorite-team-wins-Superbowl, That Bad Thing That Happened, etc. But I don't fall for that cinematic view. That Story isn't me; I'm just this guy right here living straight through it all, as always. Nothing happens to me; it all happens around me.

So what's to celebrate?

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