I have to keep reminding myself that not every week needs to be 2,500 words like last week’s. That was a year-end review, I (Matt) tell Howie, who is my online persona. Not every post has to be a sprawling epic. Unfortunately Howie is a poor listener when it comes to exercising restraint, and evidence of this is everywhere all the time on the internet. The fans, he proclaims, simply cannot get enough. They crave more.
Howie is a trickster character who is also not very good at interpreting definitive data saying that there certainly is an “enough,” followed by “plenty,” which leads to the inevitable “too much.” As Matt I have to say that it’s frankly pretty rude of these apps to even give us the option to see what people think of us. Metrics about my content performance are like people’s opinions about the Stranger Things finale: absolutely none of my business.
I complain a lot about the state of the internet and my accounts in general, which is exhausting. It’s exhausting to read when other people do it and worse when it’s me and I have to both type it and read it. I think I’m just going to spend this week being grateful, instead. Grateful that you’re here, of course, but also even more grateful that I am.
I wrapped up Sunday and thus my entire holiday break in a warm safe place surrounded by cats and reading books alongside my person while listening to music I liked. I had generous time off, felt recharged, and surprisingly didn’t dread going back to work. Hard to complain about that.
Lately I’ve been thinking about how jobs all seem to have a golden era when everyone who is your favorite is all there at once. I’ve had a lot of jobs, and the ones I loved all had one of these eras. It’s hard to identify when it ends, but there’s a dawning realization that you’re the last of the crew left. You didn’t know how good it was until it was over. While chatting with my wife about this I realized that I’m currently in a golden era at my job. And not just my immediate coworkers, but also colleagues in other agencies who I work regularly with. What a privilege. It’s a rare thing to recognize in the moment and now that I do I hopefully can enjoy it.
I’m so pleased to say that being back at work isn’t a day filled with dread, as it is for many people. I’m equally fortunate that my down time was also so restorative. I like my family, my extended family, my in-laws, and my neighbors. Our gift-giving was modest but thoughtful and did not put us into a financial tailspin. Even when tragedy struck, and an aunt of mine passed away, the celebration of her life was surrounded by people who I am humbled to know and whose impact on me is immeasurable. That being said, I know her kids and grandchildren had a muted celebration and probably will for future holidays as well. Kristin and I each spent some of the time on call as volunteer victim advocates for our local sexual assault response team, and grieved alongside people who–through no fault of their own–will never see this holiday season the same again.
Almost certainly someone reading this had a rotten break, if you had a break at all, and even more of you are miserable to be back at work. I’ve been in that spot, too. Families are hard and complicated. People in coercive or abusive relationships dread this time away from the escape that even crappy work provides. My schoolteacher wife has said that the first day back after Christmas break is sometimes rough, because there are kids whose homes are filled with hunger, neglect, fear, or some combination of those. For a couple of weeks they’re just stuck with no outlet or away from adults they can trust. When these children return to peers’ stories of presents, ski trips, and treats and the most wonderful time of the year when theirs wasn’t, they are understandably salty. You may also be feeling resentment. If so, I hope if you’re reading this I can hold some space with you, though we need a new non-therapy term for this that doesn’t sound so trite or cliched. Platonic digital forehead kisses?
If things are going pretty well, spend a moment or two reveling in it today. It’s OK to be happy even when the world is sad. It may, in fact, be imperative. Part of me worries that it’s tacky to express gratitude when things look bad; and things look pretty bad from a worldwide and national perspective. Obviously the position I’m in is due to all kinds of privileges and random fortune and some dart-throw style career choices that so far have worked out. That’s why I say I feel lucky. I know much (any?) of this contentment isn’t just because I’m so neat.
I think you are, though. Neat, I mean. Many of you had your best winter holiday season yet, even if it was still like a 4 or 6 out of 10. You’re on a trajectory where next year will be even better.
I know, because I’ve celebrated along with you as you’ve posted that you added wonderful things to your life (like kittens) and cut out garbage this year (boyfriends who don’t like kittens). You got divorced and it sounded really scary for a long time and then on the other side it isn’t. In fact this is the first Christmas when you could breathe. You moved, or got a new job/promotion, or discovered something about yourself you didn’t know. You started therapy or made a breakthrough after years of it. You insisted that your stocking be filled this year and it was. Your muscles got bigger, you’re succeeding in a fight against an eating disorder, you were sober for a whole ‘nother year (no small feat given all of this). You didn’t make it your job for someone else to be happy anymore and the world kept going. Amazing. Wonderful. Here are more (virtual) forehead kisses, but this time congratulatory ones.
2026 can be horrible and it can also be wonderful. It almost certainly will be, because every year before it has been too.
This Sunday I read a lot of graphic novels (Legends of the Mouse Guard and another one I can’t remember but really liked) and listened to:
The Cars: Heartbreak City
They Might Be Giants: John Henry
Taylor Swift: 1989 (Taylor’s Version)
Tracy Chapman: Crossroads
Sarah Vaughan: Embraceable You