As another year draws to a close, all the little ones are in bed dreaming of what you may bring. I gave up on you in 1973, yet here I am penning a letter. Mayhap, after 40 years, it is time for me to give you a chance to prove goodwill still exists in this race.
This year I have accomplished more than many will in a lifetime. Every day, I live the adage Of those whom much is granted much is expected. Whilst I admit not always doing it with grace, I do it. For all I have gotten, I have given back. For what do I wish? Reciprocity.
Would that a person present who understood on the first rendition sans footnotes, an index, eight slides and a translator: someone who would see the blood on the page for what it is.
During the summer, it was hot. Considering my abhorrence of the cold and what can only be classed as an Indian winter, this was a blessing. For what do I wish? Light.
Days begin and end in, and occasionally traverse through, darkness. Often I wonder would it not be easier to sleep in the daytime and just convert to nocturnal living entirely; for often, the day is no brighter than the night. It is filled to brimming with oppression, repression, ignorance and a calculated repugnance for sanity.
As with every other year, many have come to me determined suicide is the only solution to the turmoil in their lives. I gave each of them unconditional love and support. Very few of them understood the concept or recognized how far I traveled to provide it. For what do I wish? Love.
Every person is deserved of being loved for no other reason than they are present. Indeed, they are a present. Before I go to sleep, I want one person to find me beneath the tree and realize I, too, am so deserved.
This year I mended burnt bridges. Some, I had been the arsonist. Others, I merely stood on the other side knowing I would be the one to sweat the stones to rebuild. For what do I wish? ROI.
Relationships are not 50/50. Such inanity is impossible, even were both parties willing and able. I would like to not be in the red in all the relationships in which I participate.
Over the last year, I have worked the equivalent of two. No, I am not looking for accolades. No, I am not asking for a vacation. For what do I wish? Help.
I spent two decades working myself out of a job by teaching someone to do my assignments. It freed me to be upwardly mobile while providing training for my replacement. I do not think it too much to ask for someone interested enough in what I do every day to want to sit in my chair. Even a handful of people to split what I do amongst them. This time, I am not looking to promote, merely abdicate.
I did get help this year. Not the sort to which I have alluded but the kind where I pay for professional time. For what do I wish? Professionalism.
All of my life I have appeared as an enigma to even those closest to me. My superpowers are often viewed in a light befitting the next FTP book. I want to meet a professional who does not gauge (normal, skill, intelligence) against their own. It would mean not being persecuted for my intellect, scathing wit and incredulity.
Celebrity has its perils. This year I have been the topic of conversation at many a dinner table, cocktail party and Bible study. I have been the heart of scandal, the scapegoat for repression and the reigning queen of heartbreak. For what do I wish? Silence.
I am not seeking the kind of silence where I am never given a second thought. I am looking for the silence which provides space for investigation, facts, honesty, critical thinking and a thirst for truth. It would mean neurons finding one another for more than parroting what someone else said, instead truly gauging implausibility for what it is.
2013 has been what seems the longest year of my life, despite the lightning speed it appeared to embody in the moment. I am grateful for the good which befell me or I created. For what do I wish? Nothing.
I want moments filled to brimming with nothingness. No needs to be tended. No demands. No worries. No fiascoes. No catastrophes. No memes. No voices. No entertainment. No nothing.
Perhaps, you can bring some of that for yourself. I would be glad to share it with you.
May your holiday travail be quick and safe. Snuggled amidst the pillows, I shall await the darkness into which I shall wake to begin tomorrow for its promise of brightness.