Christmas cold war

I'm a Grinch. There is no denying it. There are many reasons why I don't like the Christmas holidays, but the main one is the largess. I don't like the degree to which many people spend on the holiday. 

There are the decorations and the lights on houses. They look beautiful but are so extensive that they could probably be seen by any Jetstar flight passing overhead. There is a lot of time and effort that's spent in setting up displays. Then they have to be pulled down, dismantled and put away. Although, some neighbours view that as optional until Easter. 

There are the expensive gifts. Our wish to be generous can go too far. It can leave us struggling to pay for our own needs. It can also encourage a materialist mindset, and perpetuate the hardship. 

Then there is the food. Oh my goodness the food. All of the tasty treats for the special occasion, prepared with care and love over many hours. And there are the bags full of sweets, chocolates and crisps. The fundamental purpose of food is lost during these times. 

There is simply too much. But why? 

Are we motivated by kindness, love and a desire to be generous? Or are these heartfelt urges twisted up by a subconscious concern for what everyone else is doing? Are we loving, or are we trying to keep up with the world around us? 

I think that it can be difficult to keep worldliness out of the holidays. And if we try to, we are likely to worry about what other people think. Thus we are caught in the cycle. Maybe it's just a first world problem. 

The meaning of Boxing Day ...in Australia

December 26th. Boxing Day. I woke up this morning wondering, like I had every other year, what Boxing Day was all about. Before I reached out to professor Google for some answers I decided to think about it for a moment. I thought about what Boxing Day means for the typical middle-aged Aussie bloke. 

It's all about escaping from the late December heat by hiding in air conditioning while watching test match cricket on the television. When the brief commercial breaks are broadcast at either the end of an over or the fall of a wicket, then it's time to change the channel for a few seconds to watch some yachts sailing out of Sydney Harbour. Then it's back to the cricket. 

It's a day of feeling disgusted at ourselves for the excessive amounts of food eaten the day before, while trying not to think about the homeless and the poor folks who missed out. Then when those gluttonous memories have sufficiently subsided, we either get stuck into some leftovers or fire up the barbeque to cook even more food. 

Those who like to drink eventually start up on the booze again, with each dead marine being chucked into the recycling wheelie bin with a shameful clatter. I can imagine the sound of the bin being dragged out to the kerb on collection day. 

If friends or family had dropped by for a visit then they eventually hit the road. Those left behind note the palpable feeling of an empty house. Getting behind the wheel is often an early start for those who are continuing their journey, wanting to beat the traffic and get to their next destination for check-in. Those who are heading back home might depart after a bit more food and a few bevvies; watch out for the boys in blue with roadside random breath tests. 

Perhaps the most notable experience of Boxing Day in Australia is the melancholy. The fading of the holiday joy which we had been anticipating for weeks, transforming into a feeling of apprehension about the year ahead. More work, more bills, and another year crossed off the calendars of our lives. 

Boxing Day. It can be a real mixed bag of emotions. But it's remains one of the great days of the year, unless you're already back to work. In that case, thank you for your service.