So I'm a big whiny baby today, for a myriad of reasons and not all can be expressed in words...one of the main reasons I'm feeling crazy, though, is because I had another moment of being a 'Venus' (as in, Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus). I have some sort of huge mental block against this that personally comes from growing up a tomboy.
Now, when I write this, I know I am going to sound ridiculous, because that's what dumb fights always sound like to the outside world. But that is OK. The last Lord of the Rings movie comes out today, and in my mind, seeing it was going to follow the tradition of the past two LOTR movies - opening night (or close to it); seeing it for the first time, together; romantic night out, etc. etc. Well, that was my Venus moment. This tradition was casually swept away and was not recognized as a two-year tradition by anyone but me.
Which brings me to another rumination in this holiday season...the ancient history of traditions. Why do traditions have such a hold on people, to the point that straying from them feels blasphemous? In my mind swirl all the yearly rights-of-passage into the new year happening in my family's home - the frayed but beautiful Advent calendar w/ accompanying story that glows if you put it up to the light, the Christmas stocking knitted for me by my aunt when I was little, the holiday records from the '50s or '60s with the funny version of 'Rudolph', etc. etc. Like family movies, these traditions are special only to those involved but somehow tap into Jung's ancient collective unconscious, or, on a more personal level, keep firm the ties that bind me to my far-away family.
In the absence of being close to those who understand the subtleties of these unique silent nods of appreciation to each other, I have tried to form my own new traditions to those I feel and am physically close to now. I have tried to recreate some of the old ones in my current home. And sometimes, the things I think are traditions are just silly little things that aren't really worthy of the importance I give them. Is that the Venus in me, or more than that? Is it in my family blood? Now that I think about it, and imagine everyone clustered in my grandparent's warm kitchen, playing Farkle, I'm not quite sure. It seems that the farther away I am, the more I feel the tight hugs of tradition squeezing my arms, guiding my words and mind.
Posted by zippy at December 17, 2003 11:10 AM