LoFi Holidays

I was never really a big fan of the money-spending habits that show up around this time of year. Buying someone a gift expressly for the purposes of the holiday is something I struggled to understand.

Birthdays? Sure -- they're milestones.
Anniversaries? Milestone, as well.
Fat guy invading your home via your chimney? Shouldn't he be treated for extended exposure to carbon dioxide, among other things? :)

So, color it strange that I enjoy lo-fi holiday music, particularly when no words are sung. I would sit in our living room back in Oregon, with YouTube being cast to the television from my phone (later: using the YouTube app on the smart TV or in the Roku) spreading holiday joy in my low-key lo-fi way. Some channel on YouTube would have a holiday stream with 16-bit game console styled graphics, with a little bit of movement to keep it from burning a screen, and hours of different melodies would play. After all, I don't need some singer bellowing the same single item holiday wants list for 30-something years at the top of her thirsty lungs, and frankly, neither do you.

What I want for $_holiday

I want for people to spend time with each other, connecting with their hearts, with no money-spending obligations; do acknowledge absolute needs if you can.
That means if the person you're spending time with is very cold, and is wearing a very thin sweater -- their only one -- then if it's within your means, find a way to alleviate that need. There is no requirement to buy someone a Noodletendo Swish or a MacaroniBox One or something else equally silly.

I want for those who have loved ones behind the wires to have a channel of communication with the person on my side of the fence, whether it's scheduling a visit (virtual or in-person), being available for a phone call, or writing a letter (electronic or physical), even if it is just to say they are loved no matter how far away.

There is a lot of lovingkindness I want to see all year, but I'll focus on building that in the season that I think needs it most.

Depression, held in place by concertina wire

Behind the miles of coiled poke-and-stab wire that wrap this facility, and others like it across this country, there will be people who give up, because there is no-one to tell them they are still a person, still worthy of love on this side. Their depression will take them on a deep, dark dive, and it hurts to acknowledge this as someone who used to ignore people in prison, someone who had no idea how prisons (dys)function.

I would ask, friends, readers, and critics alike, to take this thought:

A person in prison with a release date needs every bit of encouragement, of positive reinforcement to build them up. Ultimately, they may become your neighbor. Would you be a good neighbor if all you did was tear them down?