Having written and published (and now: very, very slowly selling) a book which is a blunt and open account of some of the most embarrassing and/or impactive events in my life, something has shifted within my tired, shift-work-enfeebled mind. Insincerity bothers me more than it used to. I've always despised dishonesty (we all tell fibs at some point/points in our lives, but I cannot stand deliberate, persistent lying) but the annual rituals of wishing a happy this or a merry that upon people we barely know and care even less about, is starting to wear increasingly thin.
I never wish people ill (although I must confess to keeping a particularly dark place in my thoughts for certain types of criminals), but I find it increasingly difficult to wish wonderful times upon what amount to strangers - because if I'm really honest about it, I really only care about people that I either love in a familial sense, or love as friends. That's a pretty small group of people. I like people, but very few are truly special to me.
So, I'm vowing this year not to be a hypocrite, and to shower Christmas wishes upon just those people. To everyone else, I wish no ill, and I hope that happiness (inside people, including yourself) spreads around the world during 2016 and further eclipses all the nasty stuff that humans are so skilled at doing, either to our planet or to one another. I'm not going to wish you a Merry Christmas because I don't know you, and to do so would imply a relationship that we don't have. If you in turn wished ME a Merry Christmas, I might be moved to wrinkle my nose a little (not unattractively, I may say) and wonder why...
This may make me a little strange, but perhaps I'm taking a step towards that Bohemian lifestyle???? I wonder if I'll get some Absinthe for Christmas?