The Annual Identity Crisis

Whether you are a Christian or not, you know the story - a couple travel to Bethlehem to respond to a government census, only to find there's nowhere to stay except a grubby stable. While there, Mary gives birth to a bouncing baby boy, and they name him Jesus. In response to this birth several extraordordinary things occur, including singing angels, shepherds, three travellers and a very scary dream that causes the family to flee. The explanation for all of this is nothing short of the eternal salvation of the human race and the restoration of man to God and God to man. 

Every year, Christmas poses to us a question of identity. How can an omnipotent creator who set the stars in place, who pulls the tides in and who keeps the entire universe spinning step down from his throne, be born in a dirty stable amongst the most humble of animals, all of the sake of our souls? Many throughout history have questioned whether He was God at all, whether He was a great prophet, and how someone can identify as fully God and fully man. It's one of the great mysteries of the Christian faith, one that theologians throughout the centuries have grappled with and as the Christmas season comes to a close, humanity tends to turn away from the baby swaddled amongst the straw and look inward, embroiled in our own crisis of identity. 

New Years comes with it the burden of possibility and a billion questions: how do we change things, do we NEED to change things, what do we want and is it different from what we have? New Years Resolutions have rightfully been imbued with a very bad reputation of late: they don't work, they cause anxiety and broken promises that are detrimental to the psyche. When you fail to meet the promises you make to yourself, you break your own trust and that causes an erosion of confidence. Before you know it, you are making false promises to yourself left and right suffering all of the dissonance in your spirit that comes with duality: you know you WANT to fulfil the things you say but instead you do the opposite. It's part of the human condition, the bible speaks of it in Romans 7:15-20 (NIV) "For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me."

Not that any of that lets us off the hook: we are always responsible for our own actions and choices. But it should be acknowledged that we as frail humans tend to fall short and as such New Years Resolutions can be dangerous. I for one like the idea of adopting a sense of identity rather than making resolutions - painting a picture of who and what I want to be over the next 12 months. Instead of setting down goals such as "lose weight, exercise more, drink more water, eat better etc etc" I instead think about what my identity is right now and where I want it to be at the end of 2023. 

The funny thing is, identity shifts and changes, and we must let it. To doggedly refuse to do so represents stagnancy. When I was in my early 20's I watched a movie called "There's Something About Mary" (I KNOW you must have seen it - a comedy classic!). Anyways, there's a scene right at the beginning of the movie where the titular character Mary goes about her day, unaware that she's being stalked by a private detective. She leaves her house early, goes down to the wharf and casually throws an apple to some guy she sees every morning. I can see the scene right now in my mind, so vivid is the picture to me. She's young, vibrant, thin and smiling. She has a bounce in her step, and the breeze softly brushes her hair about as she bounds down the street. She is a PICTURE of health and vitality and youth. THAT was the image I held in my head for the longest time as the ultimate identity for me - the emblazoned representation of who I wanted to be. 

Over the years, that image has slowly morphed with my own real life. My step doesn't have QUITE as much bounce, and I don't need to tell you that I'm no where NEAR that skinny LOL I laugh now at my latching on to that scene as the epitome of all that is good and of all I wanted to be in life, because it's a movie and real life never works out like that. There are however elements of that image that are replicated in my choices now. I take my dog for a walk along the same route, and often we meet the same people with friendly greetings and sometimes a chat. I live a life that's cheerful and joyous, if not a little naïve at times and I try always to see the best in people. I try to be generous, never withholding if I can be of assistance to someone else and I have a thriving community of people around me that I see on the regular. I even have a place to go where my coffee order is rarely required, where I know people's names and they know mine, and where I always have a table no matter how busy. It's that kind of sense of community that I saw in that movie scene and I have somehow stumbled upon that same sense of community in my real life, albeit not as picture perfect as in the movies. 

So, as 2022 draws to a close, I look once again to my sense of identity and ask the same question I ask every year - who am I, who do I want to be, and what changes do I need to make to get there? I thought I had the answers to those questions, but even over the last two weeks my responses have changed. I have made the decision to revel in the life I have right now rather than always striving for major change, so I see the next 12 months as a year of consolidation and contentment - a time to enjoy what I have and to embed in my life activities that bring me joy and happiness. I have no doubt that over the next year I will be challenged many many times to examine and re-examine this overarching goal, but I feel that in my 40th year of life I have a better sense of what I want, and by painful experience what I don't want. I've also decided that my word for 2023 will be "Joy" - finding joy in the every day experiences I have and seeking contentment in my daily routine. Of course, learning and growth don't stop, and I have no doubt that I will continue to morph over the next 12 months into a fuller version of myself like I have done every year for the last decade - but I won't be looking for external validation or input much anymore and I will instead be looking for ways to be a little more sustainable, and a little more content. 

So what's your identity look like? Are you who you want to be? What kind of things do you want to define your character over the next 12 months? These are questions worth asking not just today, but any time throughout the year that we want to fine tune our direction in life. 

I wish anyone reading this post a very happy New Year's - may 2023 bring you all of the peace and joy and contentment your heart desires, and may you reach the end of the next 12 months feeling a little bit more 'yourself' as I have done this year :) 

Yuletide Musings

 Well, it's that time of the year - sleigh bells ring, the temperature in Australia rises, grocery store carparks become warzones and seafood delis are overwhelmed! Christmas is such a mixture of extremes: joy, laughter, togetherness smashed together with overwhelming grief, pain, expectations and credit card debt. I've been thinking a lot lately about why we do this to ourselves - why we go through all of the ups and downs of this season and why there is SO much emphasis on Christmas and so little on Easter given they're both associated with Christian faith (I'll get more into that in a minute) and given that they're both so heavily commercialised. Along with 'hallmark' holidays such as valentine's day, Christmas is by far the biggest event of the year for most families whether you are a Christian or not. Of course, that's not to say there isn't other traditions who share the same time off - Quanza, Hannuka, Diwali, all occur around the same time, and all have different rituals and meanings. But by and large, Christmas has been adopted almost universally, along with all of the accoutrements including the big fat man in the red suit, the reindeer, an overall "snow" covered aesthetic (whether you're in winter or not!) and the good old Christmas Tree. So, why do we do it? 

I've heard many different conclusions to this question over the years, with some citing pagan traditions of summer solstice as an explanation for some of the things we do at Christmas. Others are more cynical, citing capitalistic ambition and greed as contributing factors. I watched a video essay last night examining the messaging of "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas", a Dr Seuss story adapted into a Jim Carrey movie that had the Grinch speaking out against the focus on presents and possessions and greed. Despite collective moaning and groaning about the expense and the debt we continue to go through all of the routines, feeling the pressure of keeping up appearances, and this year (as it does most years) it feels more prevalent than ever. So, I still find myself asking - why do we do it? 

I would argue that along with all of the sociological aspects of Christmas that have grown and morphed (as cultural traditions often do) over the years, and despite the influence of capitalism and greed particularly in western society, there are other reasons. Putting into context the last couple of years I wonder whether we treat Christmas a little like societies of old treated the institution of 'harvest festivals'. 

Barrow (2013) says that the tradition of a Harvest Festival as we know it began in 1843 and was closely linked to local churches in Cornwall. Barrow goes on to explain, "at the start of the harvest, communities would appoint a strong and respected man of the village as their 'Lord of the Harvest'. He would be responsible for negotiating the harvest wages and organising the fieldworkers." Along with this function, the festival also had a spiritual aspect, with items being made out of corn fibre in an effort to placate the 'corn spirit' and elicit a good harvest. The last cart load of harvest would be decorated with flowers and colourful ribbons, and everyone would celebrate and play games to mark the end of the harvest season. A lot of the importance of the harvest festival has also been translated into other holidays, with one of the most notable being Thanksgiving in the United States. 

As humankind has evolved, our separation from the practical application of labour to grow food has expanded exponentially. Increasingly we no longer can hold in our hands the direct result of our labours (with of course the exceptions of industries such as Agriculture or mining perhaps) but even then, the end product remains out of the original growers' hands. The industrial revolution with all its benefits has robbed us largely of the direct ownership of the end product. And if you're someone like me who works in human services, our results are even LESS tangible - how do you hold participant outcomes in your hands when you work in counselling, or welfare, or disabilities? On the odd occasion you might get some positive feedback (and I make a point of printing that stuff out to keep as a way of commemorating my good work) but more often than not the participant moves on and we don't ever get any kind of resolution for our work. 

I would argue that Christmas is our way of looking back over the year and saying, "see! I did that!" by substituting the 'harvest' with the commercial trappings that go along with the yuletide season. It's a way for us to provide for those that we love trinkets and trappings and things that let them know we care, and in donning our house with lights or spending FAR too much money on food we are nurturing their souls along with our own. We overextend because this is the one time of the year that collectively as a planet we pause and celebrate the year that has been, whatever that year has looked like. The pressure to be jolly and happy and cheerful is most certainly a burdensome one, especially if your year hasn't been terrific, and in those instances, I think a little insular self-care is warranted - but where possible, we are encouraged to give especially to those less fortunate, and I think this is a way of having something tangible we can say we've achieved. 

Of course, I could be wrong, but the idea of producing something tangible as a representation of our labours is something that has been on my mind lately, and I do think there is an element of trying to reclaim a connection to our work in the excesses of the Christmas season each year. Along with that of course is the renewed importance of being together and enjoying each other's company after the separation of the last few years, and I can see the seeds being planted of a resurgence of hand made gifts being more popular than store bought (as a crafter myself I look forward to the growth of these seeds with great enthusiasm!).

Wherever you are, and whatever your thoughts on this time of year, I wish you every joy and happiness. May you take time to hold in your hands some kind of representation of the year that has been and take time to marvel at how far you have come. May you rest, and refresh, and reflect upon the good AND the bad that has occurred, knowing with certainty that as the New Year approaches so too do new opportunities for self-discovery. 

Merry Christmas! 

References

History of Harvest Festival (projectbritain.com)

The View from One Step Behind

I often wonder whether there will ever come a time that I feel like I've caught up to the wisdom that seems to be automatically imparted to the rest of humanity. For as long as I can remember I've always felt like despite my most earnest efforts I arrive to every conclusion five minutes after everyone else. Every trend, every playground fad, every activity considered cool - I always arrived just a smidge too late and by the time I got there everyone else had moved on to something else as equally unattainable. And it wasn't for lack of trying either - there was nothing that I wanted more than to have a core group of friends I could count on. There's a reason my favourite books were the babysitters club and my favourite music came from 90s girl band "Girlfriend" - I was obsessed with having best friends. But try as I might my friendships did not stay stable like the movies or tv or books. 

As I got older I did everything I could to morph and change myself into whatever would please others. Pieces of myself were broken off me one by one, sometimes it was me doing the breaking in order to please my parents or my friends sometimes it was my parents breaking me into shards of sharp glass, each one painful to keep and painful to let go. By the time I was 20 there was very little of me left. I had been hollowed out, a shadow compared to the little girl who loved rainbows and flowers and angels and who was oblivious to all of the ways she wasn't acceptable. 

I have no doubt this happens to a lot of kids - my de-evolution is not unique by any stretch. It's taken the next 20 years of my life to grapple with all of the 100s of ways in which I shaved off pieces of myself, and really only in the last 5-10 years that I've started to search those sharp pieces out and start the painful process of soldering them back on. Self rediscovery sounds like fun, but the reality is far more uncomfortable. It takes a lot of painful realisations, a lot of self forgiveness, and a huge gut full of grief. 

And after a further 20 years what have I learnt? 

Something that hundreds of well meaning people have told me countless 1000s of times over my lifetime this far: that the more I become myself, the more I re-assume my true identity with all of its cracks and scars, the more I am accepted by the people around me. 

Turns out I'm late to the party again. I didn't need to morph or change myself at all. I only needed to be unapologetically myself.