Seasons Greetings 2013!

Is this how traditions start?

This will be the fourth (I think) year that I have written a Christmas message; my uncertainty about this stems from an inability to easily check earlier posts thanks to some overly exuberant telephone line 'tidying' that has taken place locally and reduced my ADSL modem to an impotent and pathetic flickering of its synchronisation light.

"Love me", it flashes.

"Love me."

Yet the lines are down and no love is forthcoming. Actually, that's not true. We still love you.  You've done a man's job, Billion Modem, it's just a shame it won't last. Oh dear. Cut off from the Internet, my mind is dumping all sorts of ideas and memories through my fingers. The fact that you're reading this means, as well, that I can't be that cut off and, in an age where the Internet is a 4G phone connection away, it is now by choice that I am mostly disconnected.

And what better way to concentrate on the things that matter, the things that I would like to share with you at this time of year? I believe I've spoken previously about love and taking chances and sharing before now, so those of you for whom high-speed connectivity is "a thing" can go and look at previous writings to get your fill. Maybe I'll accidentally repeat it here, in which case you can write a detailed comparison and then delete it, because I either won't get it or I'll pretend that I won't get it and you won't know which way 'round it is and that may cause us confusion at parties.

So don't.

Anyway, I thought about what to write this year and it suddenly dawned that the last thing anyone wanted to know about in any detail was what I'd been up to. If you read my Facebook then you know that it's been a pretty good year. This is probably the first year where I've thought that, from a work perspective, I couldn't have done much more. I could always have been a better person - there are things (some of them large) that I am still not dealing with well. But, overall, matters are being satisfactorily resolved. So that's me. Done.

What I really wanted to talk about was "you", for all of the "you"s reading this (God help us, never 'youse') who are a part of my life as opposed to those of you I have never met and who have stumbled across this in an attempt to sell me viagra, enlargement cream or hair restoration tonic of some sort. (Feel free to assign "Do not need", "Do not care about" or "In total denial" as you see fit, dear reader.) For those of you who are part of my life, thank you.

Thank you so much.

It is one of the great sadnesses to me that we do not tell each other how much joy we find in friendships as often as we should. To be honest in how much love we engender through acts of goodwill and kindness. Far too much of the time, if we say "I love you" to someone, there is that awful threat that somehow this declaration is beyond what we expect of friendship or, worse, may involve genitals at some point. (An earlier draft of this, thanks to autocorrect, had 'gentiles' in that spot. It was with some regret that I corrected it.)

I have been awestruck by the generosity, kindness and love of the people around me, including many strangers who had no reason to help me but did anyway. If I have been even a small reflection of this then it is through a smoked glass, because, somewhat awkwardly for an atheist, I have been blessed with an abundance of kindness from other people. I have opened my eyes to try and see goodness as a stronger source of light than unpleasantness and evil as source of shadow. I now try to look for the good and try to always give opportunities for other people to have the space to do that, rather than presume something nasty, and by doing so bringing it into being through my demeanour or my language.

I have been assisted in taking small steps on epic journeys by people who have slowed down to allow me to walk alongside them, who have shared their knowledge with me and patiently explained it, and I have been buoyed up by many hands and hearts.

Thank you. Because those hands and hearts are not just helping me, they are helping everyone. When I look across my friends, I see people who will offer kindness to strangers, who will inconvenience themselves when you need them, and it is you, my friends, who will get us through some of the difficult times we face and onto something better.

As I write this, my house of full of sleeping (K,C)ats. It is a hot day and the power got cut off. Rather than complain, we went off to do something else. I lay on the floor to read and write, Katrins went off for a nap. The cats, sensibly, followed Katrina to the comfort of the bed as I typed away and read Gore Vidal. Three years ago I would have kicked up a fuss, generating heat as I railed against the power outages - stupidly and without any useful outcome. Last year, I would have been working so hard right now that this outage (combined with the ADSL problem) would have seen me back at work, despite being on leave. This year, thanks to my wonderful partner, my amazing cats and all of you beautiful people, I got some books, put a quilt on the floor and stayed in the cool. When the power came back (early, thank you, ETSA) it was more of a pleasant surprise than anything else.

My family and friends have shown me that rage rarely leads to anything useful, that anger rarely feels good beyond the moment in which it takes place, as it only causes more problems than it solves. If it ever really solves anything. And, for so many years, I was a creature of rage. But my family, my friends, stood by me, listened, helped, stood back when they had to and, when required, hosed me down. Thank you!

I have always believed that, despite everything, we are creatures of joy - our ability to feel and to communicate that feeling far and wide through our many forms of communication is amazing. Yet, of course and it is sad that it is 'of course', such joy is not universal and it is not guaranteed. That I can read and write shows my privilege. That I do so in a large room with power, well-fed, clothed and safe, cements my occupation as a very privileged human. Yet, with a lot of help from my friends and my colleagues, this year I have been able to take some small steps along the path to maybe, just maybe, bring on a future where these privileges become universally available. Not now, no. Not soon, probably. But as part of a better future.

You, my friends, bring me such joy and you are helping me, and many others, to try and spread that message and to make the world a better place - despite everything. Thank you.

I wish you the best festive season you can have and I hope that you are able to find some joy where you can. Please, let me know if I can help.

Love,
Nick.

p.s. I would write more but a small black kitten and I have to go on an adventure.