Deck your halls

The Holidays are times that are especially inclined toward emotional violence as we are forced by tradition to spend time with and act courteous toward those we may not particularly care to.
You know, our Loved Ones...

Why do we still attend dinners and such with our families if we do not truly wish to be around them? Why is there this obligation to be offended by the people that offend us the most?

It seems to me that we attend out of a desire to play in the great drama that is Life. We like to say things like,"I have to go or my Mom, that bitch, will have a fit and I'll never hear the end of it". Poor me, I blame my childhood.
Or,"well if I don't show up my poor sister will be there all alone with my asshole brother."
Super Sibling to the rescue!!!
What a load of shit. We go because we know that we are not good enough NOT to go. We know deep down inside that we must be with our own or risk losing that part of ourselves which we so identify with. The part we don't like but can't seem to give up.
If we were not swimming in the same emotional muck as those we complain about, we simply would not deal with it. We would either go and not be offended or we would know that the environment is not conducive to our emotional health and not subject ourselves to it.

I submit that we discontinue our yearly ritual of sniveling about having to attend "The Holidays".
I submit that we decide instead to address the issue within ourselves, at least, and with the others, ideally. Why is it up to "them" to take action towards resolution? Do it yourself, if for nothing more than to be able to feel empowered by yourself. RISE ABOVE.
If you are settled in the mind of "they won't change, listen, understand, etc." then you have not risen above. You have simply changed roles. Do more. Change again. It cannot be anymore painful than the current existence.

Thanksgiving is past for this year. Spend December being thankful that you are endowed with freedom and intelligence. Be grateful that you have the ability to take any situation and make the necessary changes, within yourself, toward improvement. The result may not be immediate but the feeling of "positive forward momentum" is instantaneous. It is empowering. It begets the purity of Love. It fills your heart with true gratitude for everything and everyone. Even your asshole brother.

Right...?

Why are we so driven to be heard? (he wrote in the HUGE SCREAMING example of "wanting to be heard")
But, truly, why are we so desirous of "being right"? I bring this up because I see it slowly decay my relationships and the relationships of those around me. I watch people run their HeadDramas until they don't even know the reality of their partners. They are having an entirely different relationship with a skewed version of their lover, in their head. They live a dream. Why? Because they don't feel like they are understood, justified, acknowledged.
This becomes, in most cases, a battle for "I'm right".
Conversation deteriorates into a pair of monologues as neither party feels "heard" so they both stop listening. We start ranting to each other desperately trying to be understood, never pausing for a single moment in order to understand. We talk at each other.
Why must we be heard? Do our lives fail or diminish if we are not? Does it kill us? Truly?
And why does it justify our discontinuation of listening to and understanding those we are supposed to Love the most? Why does not "being right" make it O.K. to be cruel and cold and disrespectful to the most important people in our lives?
So what if they are not listening right now. Is it really worth the pain you cause to you both by being offended by it?
Do you think that maybe they feel like YOU are not hearing THEM?

I think back on the people that I've lost in my life and realize that it wasn't worth it. I don't really know if I was right or wrong anymore. I don't know if they were. I can't even think of why they are no longer a part of my life. I know, though, that I miss them. I know that I gained nothing by defending my position, regardless of what it was.
I know that our pride was saved at the expense of our hearts.
And I know that none of us "heard" each other at all.
Who was right and about what is lost in the pain of rememberance...
In the end we were all wrong.