The Heart of Ebenezer

“You are fettered,” said Scrooge, trembling. “Tell me why?”
“I wear the chain I forged in life,” replied the Ghost. “I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.” — Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

The whole of Ebenezer Scrooge’s life changed in span of one evening. Years, decades, of a man’s pursuit for financial stability and steadfast business growth turned him into a callous of a human being. His heart and soul became so entrenched in the balancing of nickels and dimes for profit that it iced over to a hardened glacier. He had little use for people and even less for their holidays. Yet, in the span of a few hours in a fever pitched dream, his phantom conscience wrapped in chains paid him a visit and he finally had a second chance at life in the last chapter of it.

We are, in some form or fashion, an Ebenezer. The sheer act of self-perseveration requires us do whatever it takes to survive. Even the poorest among us places deep reverence in the pursuit of the almighty dollar. Subconsciously or not. They say that the best things in life are free, but you still need money to acquire the things it takes to live. Still, when we take that pursuit and let it consume us. When it goes far beyond self-preservation into the land of blind greed — that is when money becomes a root of evil. The golden calf was created by man, but the deity he created was a version of himself. We take portraits of dead politicians and put it on our currency. We allow the concept of monetary gain consume us — at times to the point where we let it control our relationships with others. We set aside people we care deeply about so we can amass wealth. And, in turn, we begin to lose sight on why we live in the first place.

Scrooge, in the end, had his second chance. It took a phantasmal wake up call, but he changed. On our ends, it often also takes an equally drastic event — may it be a car accident, a health scare, or the sudden loss of a loved one or friend, to wake us up and change our priorities. The thing of it is, we have always had the opportunity to switch gears. But without a climatic, possibly catastrophic circumstance, we allow our daily lives to blind us to these changes. Yet, it doesn’t have to be that way. All it takes is the force of will to alter the course of our lives. All is required is the same fortitude that you would put into, say, finding a new job or quitting a bad habit; you can use to start being benevolent to your fellow man. Turn the other cheek and forgive. Go out of your way to help a total stranger. In essence, un-Scrooge yourself. 

I leave you with a quote: “Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends.” — Joan Didion. If you were to face the spector of your former mentor, what would you have to say to them? What would they have to say to you? If you were to take the three roads of Christmas past, present, and future, would you be pleased by the journeys? Or wake up covered in sweat and ready to change your life for the better? Or, even worse, suffer the fate of Marley and pass before you even have the chance to. 

The door to a better life is waiting fully open for you. I hope it doesn’t take a haunting for you to walk through it.

George Bailey

---

“Well, not just one wish. A whole hatful. Mary, I know what I’m gonna do tomorrow and the next day and the next year and the year after that. I’m shaking the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I’m gonna see the world.” James Stewart as George Bailey — It’s a Wonderful Life

---

George Bailey was the model person that everyone strived to be. He knew from the moment he was born what he thought his purpose in life was. If you were to ask him what he was going to do with this life, without batting an eye, he would tell you that he was going to be an engineer and a world traveler. Certainly not married or fathering any children. At first chance he was going to leave Bedford Falls and never look back. Not only that, but you could depend on George in a pinch to help you out — no matter what the problem was. He was mister go-to and reliable.

---

Life, however, had an entirely different path for Mr. Bailey. His father’s business, the Building and Loan, he would inherit. His travels around the world, as fas as we’re aware, never happened. In fact, it appears that he never even leaves Bedford Falls. He not only gets married to someone he never thought he would marry, but has four kids and lives in a house he shunned growing up. In summary, it’s a complete 180 of everything he planned his life to be. And he doesn’t take the change in path lightly.

---

Two of the things that makes It’s a Wonderful Life far ahead of it’s time is that it brings suicide and depression to the discussion table and it’s done in a non-patronizing manor. George Bailey, who suffers from severe depression throughout most of the movie, is not considered weak for feeling this way. In fact, most of the town regards him as one of the bravest people who has ever lived there. When he reaches the point of wanting to end his life, the whole town rallies together to come to his aid. Nobody tells him to “lighten up” or “stop being sad”. When he’s on the bridge, nobody drives by him yelling the word “jump”. Nobody calls him a failure; even though he feels like one.

The other big thing is that it shows the impact one person’s life has on others. One of the most crucial lines in the movie is given by his guardian angel, Clarence: “Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives. When he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?” George Bailey witnesses, in full detail, what would happen if he had never been born in the first place. He sees just how much of a negative ripple effect he would leave if he took his own life. He finally has a chance to observe what an impact he has made. As Clarence put it: “You see, George, you’ve really had a wonderful life. Don’t you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?”

---

If ever this timeless holiday classic was most pertinent, it’s now. “Hope” seems to be an increasingly rare commodity. We have elected a “warped, frustrated old man” who may very well turn America into a giant Pottersville. Multiple studies have shown a dramatic increase in depression in most age groups within the past decade. We are, for lack of a better term, suffering. This film, which just so happens to be celebrating it’s 70th anniversary this year, is just as poignant and reverent as the year it was released. 

---

So, go watch It’s a Wonderful Life. If nothing else than to be reminded “Remember, George: no man is a failure who has friends.”

The Gift of Giving

Happiness is a choice. Take it from someone who lives with depression that happiness is a choice. It might not be an easy choice, but it is one, nonetheless.

We, as a species, have developed strange concepts of what will bring us joy. We think that the more things we obtain, the more content with our lives we will be. Yet, people who's lives are consumed with the collection of things (I'm referencing hoarders) are some of the most miserable and dissatisfied people you will know. We assume that he who dies with the most toys wins; when that could not be further from the truth. It all lies in the experiences we have in the brief span that we spend on this planet - and the people we spend it with.

It truly is as simple as that.

This particular musing is sparked with the fact that I'm once again working retail during the holiday season. Work is rather chaotic at times and people collectively have much shorter fuses than they usually do. With Christmas being at the end of this week, there is an air of complete desperation in everyone that you come in contact with. Humans generally don't handle the rapid end of deadlines well and this is a big one. Yet, it's all in the pursuit of making others happy. Which, you would think would bring us joy in the act of giving; but we place so much importance on the items that we are acquiring that we forget about the whole reason of why we are doing it.

I've discovered that the older I get (and, really, I'm not that old), the less importance I have on acquiring things. Partially it has to do with how much I have moved in my adult life; but mainly it's because I have discovered that I get far more pleasure being with people than I do acquiring things. I'm filling my life with experiences, not stuff. And I am much more content in my life this way.

Something else that brings me joy is doing things for others. Taking care of people and their happiness. I am giving, sometimes to a fault, because I know exactly what it is like to go without. To be short changed by circumstances. So, if I'm in a place where I can help others, I will. I get fulfillment out of building others up, not tearing them down. And knowing that I gave what I could to ensure that their needs have been met.

Which is also why I treasure most those who do the same for me. Life is all about balance; so if I'm giving my all and getting nothing in return, I burn out and become resentful. As the saying goes, you cannot pour from an empty bucket.

Each person's journey is unique to themselves; as is what brings them the most satisfaction in life. Yet, collectively, when we reach our end, the only thing that matters most to ourselves (and those that we know), is how we treat one another. People think of their loved ones, not their bank accounts, on their death beds. They think of the things they wish they had done - not the things they wish they had bought.

So keep that in mind as the holiday season draws to a close. The one thing that your loved ones what most of is you.

Skipping Christmas

After much consideration, I have a declaration: This year, I'm skipping Christmas this year. Sure, I'm still going to knock out all my Christmas shopping today and I'm spending Christmas Eve with my mom and grandparents, but Christmas Day I'm spending alone. By choice.

This isn't some protest about commercialization or some other such "bah humbug" mentality. I'm not depressed and shutting out the world. I'm simply...spent. Exhausted. Physically, mentally, emotionally-toast. I am in need of some quiet alone time to recharge my batteries and that day just so happens to land on Christmas Day. It's as simple as that.

The other big reason is that I haven't been in the spirit all season. Sure, you could blame the long hours, but honestly, that's not it at all. No one, it seems, is in the festive spirit. This year I've seen the least amount of decorated houses and a scant few of friends, family, and customers have wished me a "Happy Holidays". I've been to one white elephant party and one regular holiday party and that's it. The mall, which should have been packed since Black Friday, is still dead during the week. Add to it that many stores are open Thanksgiving Day, and the whole season just seems...cheap. False. We've become the metallic pink tree and what the world really needs is that tiny evergreen that can barely hold up a star.

In essence, we're now completely locked on to WHAT to buy and we've lost all sight as to WHY we buy. 

So, what will I be doing on Christmas Day? Sleeping in. That's priority number one. Re-read A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. Maybe watch a holiday movie or two. I'm honestly hoping to Skype with my sister and her family, but if it doesn't happen, I understand and I'm okay with that. Mostly though, the day will be spent in silence and solitude.

I'm going to be all alone on Christmas and I'm completely content with that.