Hope. It is the quintessential human delusion – simultaneously the source of your greatest strength and your greatest weakness.

~ THE ARCHITECT, MATRIX REVOLUTIONS.

Here we are again … New Years Eve. It’s a day which lends itself to dissection of the preceding three hundred and sixty-five days and pontificating or prognosticating about the next. Given that time is essentially a perception of flow, NYE is really just an arbitrary marker in what is otherwise a continuum of our own perception. Still, arbitrary or not, it gives us a moment in which we can take stock of what has been and think about what is to come.

Talking to my patients today, a few of them commented that ‘It’s going to be a better year next year’. It may very well be because, let’s face it, 2021 has been a pretty low benchmark.

The Netflix Mockumentary ‘Death to 2021’ said this towards the end of their annual highlight reel and tongue-in-cheek ‘analysis’ of the year that was:

We end the year as we began it, polarised and divided – progressives versus conservatives, vaxxed versus unvaxxed, science versus whatever the f***ing mental opposite of f***ing science is. Some say that we’re in the storm of a culture war, others violently disagree – but there is some hope.

That’s a poignant summary. It’s been a pretty difficult year no matter who you are, or whichever way you cut it. Significant financial losses, employment stress, health concerns and challenges to our personal freedoms contrasted with amazing opportunities, unprecedented innovations and the tease of a return to our pre-COVID lives … 2021 has been a global mindfuck.

So many have had it so much worse, and I confess to you that while 2021 has been particularly distressing for me – one of the worst years of my life – I feel like I shouldn’t be complaining given the significant hardships that others have faced and have found ways to overcome in circumstances exponentially more dire than my own.

Though even there, there’s a lesson in that. It’s so easy to compare ourselves to others and beat ourselves up for not meeting some arbitrary standard that’s essentially a rod for our backs of our own making – a false comparison generated by our own biased perceptions that reinforces the perceived inadequacies in those of us who are vulnerable to mental anguish. Yet we can’t compare ourselves to others – we all have a different toolbox. We may look at the masterpiece that others have made, but try as we might, we can only create what we have the tools to make. Some people are given marble, a hammer and a set of chisels. No one can be Michelangelo with dirt, water and bare hands.

Though I digress … you can know all the theory and you can try and do everything right, but sometimes, mental illness comes for you anyway. My latest relapse into the depths of despair and depression started with rejection and loneliness – an overwhelming feeling that no matter how much you give to the people you love and you think who love you, it’s all a fiction … empty and unreciprocated … a reflection of how little you really mean to the people who mean the most to you. Whether it’s been loneliness brought on by rejection, relationship breakdown, COVID isolation or a billion other things, loneliness is still loneliness. It’s difficult to deal with. It takes a toll on your soul. Hey, we’re all human … we’re all vulnerable and we all have our weak spots. Life certainly has a way of highlighting them.

Like so many people around the globe, for me, 2021 has certainly highlighted some ‘areas for future growth’ … many, MANY areas … so many ‘growth areas’ that I feel overwhelmed by them. I feel weak. I feel powerless. I so often feel like I will never be able to break free from the suffocating mass of my own deficiencies that are too burdensome to manage. It seems much easier just to hide away, isolate myself from those who might get close to me so they aren’t hurt by my toxicity.

I feel so unworthy of love and that just adds to the loneliness.

Every now and then, I have the occasional glimmer of hope. Sometimes I can’t tell if it’s a delusion borne of the alcoholic stupor and antidepressants, or if it’s something genuine, something real.

I certainly hope that the hope is real.

When I’m able to catch a glimpse of what might be possible but I’m oppressed by the weight of my deficiencies, I try to recall the Serenity Prayer. The Serenity Prayer so neatly summarises the process of acceptance, change, values and mindfulness that it may as well be the prototype model for life enhancement. Shortly after it became published, it was officially adopted by Alcoholics Anonymous and has assisted millions of people around the world as part of numerous mutual aid fellowships. It says:

God, give me grace to accept with serenity
the things that cannot be changed,
Courage to change the things
which should be changed,
and the Wisdom to distinguish
the one from the other.

Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
Taking, as Jesus did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it,
Trusting that You will make all things right,
If I surrender to Your will,
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with You forever in the next.

Amen.

I pray for the ability to accept what can’t be changed, the courage to change what can be changed, the wisdom to know the difference, and the hope that change is really possible.

My hope for you is that whatever your ‘area for growth’, personal challenge or COVID hindrance has been in 2021, that in 2022 you would know hope – hope that change is really possible, hope that on the horizon of the new year, there is ‘ … the normal-est of the new normal … a chance to live, learn and love again.’

I pray that in 2022, we can all move forward in acceptance, courage, wisdom and hope.

Goodbye 2021. Here’s to a better 2022.

Rocky Road.  Depending on where you’re from, this might mean different things to you.  In Australia, Rocky Road is a confectionary which is made from a combination of marshmallow, milk chocolate, jelly (jell-o if you’re American), coconut, cherries, peanuts, Turkish delight, and strawberry sauce.  It’s pretty much cat-nip for chocolate lovers and sweet-tooths – just about everything delectable in one glorious mixture, a sugar-rush par excellence.

As the story goes, Rocky Road was an Australian invention, when in the 1850’s, someone had the smart idea of on-selling the spoiling confectionery that had finally made it to Australia from Europe.  Unscrupulous businessmen would mix the used-by confectionery with low quality chocolate and other fillers, like local nuts and berries and it became known as Rocky Road from the ‘rocky road’ that travellers had to take to get to the Australian gold fields.

The problem with Rocky Road in its current form is food allergies and intolerance.  Take peanuts for example – we can’t have peanuts in Rocky Road because peanut allergies can easily kill people.  Actually, same for all nuts – so we need to get rid of them all.  Then there’s all the people who are gluten intolerant, so Rocky Road will also need to have all the ingredients with gluten removed.  Come to think of it, the same goes for lactose, so that’s out.  Food colouring makes children go hyperactive, so we’ll have to get rid of anything with food colouring in it.  Oh, and I almost forgot the worst culprit of all, sugar.  We need to remove anything from Rocky Road that has sugar in it too.

So everyone, I give you the new, non-allergenic, non-intolerant, non-stimulating Rocky Road … uh, actually, it’s pretty much just gelatin … still, it won’t offend anyone’s delicate palate or induce any health conditions in anyone, and once you get past the initial gag-reflex, it’s really not too bad.

I sometimes think Christmas is like Rocky Road.  I have a constant battle with an organisation I work for (which shall remain nameless so I don’t get fired).  Every year, in the newsletter I write to the people in my department, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas.  Invariably a minion in national office wants to change it to ‘Happy Holidays’ so as not to offend anyone.  I’m not really sure what would be so offensive about ‘merry Christmas’ … because it has “Christ” in it?  That’s pretty tame, all things considered.  It’s not like I’m preaching hellfire and brimstone or starting a holy war.  I have atheists wish me a merry Christmas all the time … they’re not offended.

It reminds me of a South Park episode way back in their first season – the students were trying to perform their school Christmas pageant but every group insisted in taking anything out that could have been offensive.  In the end, the play was a bland, minimalist performance which everyone hated.  As Aesop allegorised, in trying to please everyone, you please no one.

I also think Christmas is a little bit like Rocky Road in different way.  I was listening to one of my favourite Christmas albums at the gym tonight to try and get myself in the spirit just a little.  There were the usual happy songs – Christmas carols are notoriously saccharine after all.

But there were also some tempered songs, and some sadder songs. It reminded me that Christmas, as much as we want it to be happy, is anything but for some people.  “Merry Christmas” – sure, it’s a worthy aspiration, but the happiness that we all feign for the sake of social politeness often hides deep pain, sadness, loneliness, brokenness and shame.

More than any other time of the year, Christmas reminds us of all of the vexatious woe that we’ve managed to repress through the other 364 days of the year.  It’s as if the expectations of the warm glow of joy-to-the-world highlights, in stark contrast, the depths of the wretched affliction lurking inside our souls.  We remember those who we have loved and lost, of those friends and family who’re estranged, of the mistakes we’ve made, of how broken or ashamed we feel.  The fairy lights are out en mass, festively decorating our persona to distract everyone else from the darkness aching inside.

Christmas isn’t one dimensional, but neither should it be.  Christmas is like life.  Our lives are defined by our successes and our failures … by those we love, those we used to love, and those who we will always love but who are no longer able to love us back … by those things we apologised for, or wish we had have … by those things we did or words we said and wish we could take back, but can’t.  Christmas is just one point within the ongoing continuum of life, not separate to it or above it.  It’s warts and all, not sanitised and romanticised.

Christmas is like a bite of Rocky Road – the sweet, the crunchy, the nutty, the chewy, the sticky and the soft – all together, indivisible and indispensable.  We might like to have Christmas which is always happy, but if we took out all of the bits of life that might cause us sadness or pain, we would also take out all the elements that can make us happy.  We might have the safety of a homogenous layer of gelatin, but we would miss out on the flavour and texture, good and bad.

I hope our society doesn’t shun the original meaning of Christmas and turn it into a festival of flavourless, homogenous, non-offensive ‘happy holidays’.  The original Christmas wasn’t about making everything emotionally monotone.  The gift of Jesus represented a light in the darkness, of hope in the midst of despair.  Jesus was born at a time when Israel was under both Roman occupation and the rule of a tyrannical king.  Life was hard, but in Jesus, there was hope of something beyond simply eking out an existence.  Jesus himself would offer it to those who chose to follow him: “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me – watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”  Even for those who do not follow him, the principles of radical selflessness that Jesus taught – give rather than receive, love without expecting love in return, lead by serving – make for a world where everyone can experience more hope and less despair.

So this year, my hope is that everyone has a Rocky Road Christmas – a Christmas which isn’t one-dimensional, homogenous and bland, but instead, is rich and meaningful.  I hope that we don’t forget about the sadness, emptiness or brokenness that are a natural part of our lives, but we accept them for what they are.  I hope that we can enjoy the blessings we have and are thankful for them, and that we embrace the ideal of hope in the midst of despair, of light in the midst of the darkness – the promise of Christmas for everyone.

May 2020 be a year of deep purpose and deeper joy, and may your Christmas be full of light, hope and love …

… and maybe a piece or two of Rocky Road!

It’s Christmas morning!

I’m currently sweltering in the North Queensland heat and humidity, listening to the screaming and fighting amongst my kids, longing for air conditioning, silence and a cold drink.

It’s easy for the meaning of Christmas, a celebration of selfless giving, to become about what we get for ourselves, or about using Christmas as a marketing opportunity.

The antidote is gratitude.

It’s more than just saying thanks for the presents we receive. It’s being thankful for family to give presents to, for the masses of food that we tend to consume, for living in a country that is abundant in resources, is not at war, and that still values Christian traditions. It’s being thankful for a benevolent God that showed his extreme love for us by sending his son as the ultimate Christmas present.

Yes, it’s even being thankful for noise and heat and sweat.

2014 has been a difficult year. But as much as there has been many tragedies, griefs and sorrows, there are still many things we can be grateful for.

I hope that this Yuletide season, you experience the true joy of Christmas through gratitude, and that you have a safe and prosperous new year in 2015.