Cover Up

With Christmas just a few days away, I find myself thinking about snow - the pretty White Christmas kind that falls from a dark blue, star studded sky.  It's a romantic vision.

Family holidays have mostly brushed by me these last few decades - I choose to sleep late and spend the days with my animals. I don't think too much about past Christmases or birthdays - it seems pointless - by nature I am emotionally solitary and a little withdrawn, uncomfortable with gift giving and getting, restless in the company of more than a handful of people, even those close to me.  I prefer the protection of my camera lens in a crowd and the anonymity of a dark bar to a well lit room.  It's a kind of self imposed isolation but it comforts me.

When I left the photo store after a ten year run,  I took a two year break from retail before returning to work in a wine shop.  For the first few months I felt at home - nearly every face was familiar - and people told me often they were glad to see me back in the retail world because I was such a "people person".  I found this to be an odd and troubling compliment, mostly because it was patently untrue, but also because it made me think of how we see each other.  If people saw me as so personable, I wondered, how accurate was my view of them?   How much of our real selves to we actually share with others and how much do we hide?  Was it shyness or self esteem?  Confidence or fear of being exposed?  If you were to scratch the surface of another person you know, would you be surprised?



There are genuinely nice people in the world - not nearly enough in my everyday world and none at all in politics, banking, the law or health insurance - kindness can't rule the world, after all, and niceness does have its sappy side.  But at this time of year, it seems like we could all put in a little extra effort and not regret it.

So while I think about snow, I don't miss or expect it.  Like my niceness, I suspect it's too often just a cover up.