Almost Lisa: Pt 10, “Almost Festive”

Almost Lisa: Pt 10, “Almost Festive”

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Hiraeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return,

which maybe never was (Welsh)

It’s Christmas Eve. An unusually frigid 20* here in Atlanta. I’m cafe-hopping from favorite spot to spot, trying to find the distraction of good energy to preoccupy myself in the laptop, writing and editing photos. Christmas music (old and new) is everywhere. All around me are friends and families, sharing beverages, pastries and plans for tomorrow together. Many flew in to celebrate with loved ones. Others are on their way out. Then there’s me: head down in my screen, writing this blog, secretly listening to everyone around me, wishing I could experience what they are. For real.

I haven't celebrated a holiday for many years. Too much struggling. Not many people in my Tribe to celebrate with. Painfully isolated by health issues. Disinterested in traveling to Cleveland and “celebrating” with the parents and siblings (it’s just not the same since my grandparents passed). Instead, I indulge in my own Christmas traditions (GOD, I wanna be traveling right now!!!). Cafe/coffee/writing, maybe a drive to grab food which I’ll eat in my car (I eat most meals in this manner), then jammies by 5pm, and a marathon of corny Hallmark Christmas movies and “streaming blah-blah” as I begin to prepare my taxes. What more could a gir..........er, woman, want?

(Flashback: On my last Christmas abroad (in 2019), I was experiencing Madrid, Spain. Someone offered I take a walk to the Mercado for lunch. FANTASTIC recommendation!! It’s a tasty smorgasbord for picky, undecideds like me. Everywhere I travel, I indulge in local food, fall in love, then attempt to find the cuisine back in the States, in Los Angeles. In Spain it was the tapas (never found it), in France it was quiche (kinda found it) , Lisbon was red wine (found it!), and Cambodia it was Khao Soi, a delicious creamy yellow curry  dish with boiled and fried noodles. It would sound impossible that The Valley could have such a delicacy. Nevertheless, I searched. One day, after visiting my credit union, I looked up across the parking lot Id been  in nearly every other day for a year and there is was: A restaurant CALLED Khao Soi!!! Right in my back yard. And low and behold, the namesake was a featured menu item. SOLD!)

 

Another tradition is to be kind to strangers. Okay, in all honesty, I practice this every day. But on Holidays, I try to do something kind for those who deserve it. Sometimes that's simply buying lunch for firemen & women, police officers, or nurses. Other times, it's noticing someone- like me- sitting alone at a restaurant/ cafe. I’ll often invite them to join me and share stories/ conversation. There’s so much to learn from each other. It’s a joy to listen and validate someone who may be feeling unheard and invisible. I know all too well what that feels like. So it’s a privilege to help lift their spirits. We never know the battles anyone else is facing. And we cannot know the expiration on our greatest gift: TIME.

George Bernard Shaw once wrote that “Youth... is wasted on the Young”. I never had a disrespect for my Time and Energy. As a child I hardly hesitated to create, explore, pen, perform, sew, draw... to explore every aspect of my growing artistry. Though I understand fully what he meant.

When I was in elementary school (at Coventry Elementary, back in Cleveland), we had lots of group assemblies. One in particular left a strong impression on me. Our principal, a kind, 35-40-year-old tall, slightly overweight man with glasses, held up a clock for all of us to see. He asked us all to sit there and watch the clock in complete silence for one minute. It felt like a really long time back then! After a minute, he told us "that was just one minute of your Life. One minute can be a very long time. Never waste it!".

I never forgot that lesson.

I often struggle with the overwhelming accumulation of Time I’ve lost. Time I’ve wasted in unhealthy environments and with unhealthy people, as well as Time taken from me by such environments and people. This includes recovering from events beyond my control (9/11, writers strike, pandemic... all painful as hell to overcome, and very financially costly). It’s easy to become angry now that my physical body is preventing me from living the life I’ve earned and desire. I dress for comfort, not fashion anymore. I seldom go out. I rarely make appearances. I'm quieter. I seldom seem to want to grab lunch or dinner with anyone. Not to mention physical changes, like my skin and face changing, my body getting larger.  I work constantly at curbing the disappointment, lest it should ever be projected elsewhere. I am not that person. Though I wonder all the time how on earth those who have been around me for years fail to notice any of these changes in my life. It may be as simple as they do not care. Hollywood, after all.

Something I learned in my 30′s: Surround yourself with people whose faces light up when you walk in the room. Those who ultimately make you feel stronger, more possible, and more appreciated. Those who call to check in on you from time to time.

Those are your people. And in my Biz, they're precious.

     (to be continued...)

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