The day after. If I lived in Great Britain, I would have celebrated Boxing Day, which, traditionally was used to present gifts to servants, tradespeople, and the poor. Nowadays, it's associated with shopping and sporting events.
I wish that Boxing Day was a thing in the United States. After the stress and turmoil of the holidays, I think everyone needs a day to recover, eat leftovers, watch Christmas movies, read the book they got as a gift, or spend time with family and friends.
Billy Collins tries to identify friends and foes . . .
Friends in the Dark
by: Billy Collins
Signs and countersigns should be established
to determine your friends in the dark.
-- Robert Rogers, Rules for Ranging
Such a ripe opportunity is presented here
to expand what Rogers meant
making those friends our own friends and the dark, The Dark.
But is there not enough in this early manual
on guerilla warfare written in 1758
in the midst of the French and Indian War
and still in use to this day
by those who must cross on foot
the unfriendly fields and woods of combat?
Yes, giving the common guile of the world, we might
send one or two men forward to scout
the area and avoid traps before breaking camp.
And as far as being attacked from the rear goes,
sure, immediately reverse order,
and the same goes if attacked from the flank
as we often are, blindsided by a friend
in the dark or right in the face
outside a motel in the glow of a drink machine.
But why not honor the literal for a change,
let the rules speak for themselves,
and not get all periwinkle with allegory?
In the light of rule #20--
avoid passing lakes too close to the edge
as the enemy could trap you against the water's edge--
could we not stop to absorb
the plight of these hungry rangers
lost in the wilds up and down the Canadian border,
wind rustling the maples, the scent of rain
and danger, and no one having a clue
that their fighting would one day be written down?
Avoid regular river fords
as these are often watched by the enemy,
may make us think of the times we have been wounded
by an arrow while wading through life,
but tonight let's just heed the rules of Rogers
and look for a better place to cross a river.
No not the river of life,
a real river, the one we cannot see
there is so much to hack through to get to its bank.
Sometimes it isn't easy to distinguish friends from foes. I've had (notice the past tense) people in my life who I would consider toxic. I think everyone, at some point in their lives, has dealt with individuals who think they're being helpful and supportive while making you feel like shit. To use Collins's metaphor, I've crossed that river quite a few times, watching out for arrows and bullets.
If your toxic people are family members, it's more complicated to cross that river with your heart, soul, and body intact. If your toxic people are friends/acquaintances, it's a little easier to disentangle yourself. I've had both of these situations in my life.
On the flipside, it's very easy to know and love true family and friends. They are the ones who send texts just to see how you're doing. Out of the blue air, they may just show up on your front step with a pizza or asking to go for a walk with you. There's nothing in it for them. They just want to be with you, make your chaotic life more peaceful in whatever small way they can.
My wife and I had pizza and drinks with two true friends--a married couple who care about us deeply and make us laugh all the time. It is a weekly ritual for us to meet up with them and simply release the worries and stress of the previous seven days. We've been celebrating this Stammtisch for going on five years now, and it is usually one of the highlights of the week. On weeks when we can't meet, everything seems just a little off to me.
So, on this Boxing Day, I give thanks for true friends who take me as I am--messy, loving, obsessive, and neurotic.
Saint Marty crossed to the bank on the other side of the river tonight.
