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Emails to my Therapist

The Twelve — or Maybe Two — Stages of Christmas

Got past the day of holiday agitation. Now it just feels like I’m happily and confidently in the process of landing a small plane, for maybe the second or third time, never mind that this is my 59th Christmas.

I take things too damn seriously. And I doubt if that’s going to change a lot. Or if it does it won’t be through my straining to make it so. So for the moment I guess I’ll just taxi in as is, and then fly off again somewhere else, no doubt to the quiet complexity and soothing pleasures of January.

Bold doesn’t have to be simple and slapdash. I’m sure of that.

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Categories: courage, holidays

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