From Thanksgiving – no. From Halloween – or do I mean Columbus Day? For crying out loud, the social schedule of an avowed and committed introvert (me) during the holidays (yes, from Labor Day to January 6th or so) is simply awful. Or do I mean from Memorial Day until January 6th? I might. Sheesh.
Of course I want to see my friends. Of course I want to eat a hotdog while watching fireworks, picnic, swim, stand over a fire, watch a parade, consider tasting cotton candy again, admire kiddies in their costumes, leaf-peep, smell as well as chow down turkey and all the fixins. Of course I want to see family, especially my beloved nephew who this past intense winter season not only made time to visit, but also helped me shovel the white stuff the morning after it fell in abundance. Of course I want to socialize. Of course I want to engage. Sort of. Maybe.
The food. The booze, the People. The chatter. The desserts (yes, it’s food but as a very important subset, it deserves individual recognition). The noise. The traditions. The holiday music. The clustering of events and happenings. It’s all too much, and by NYE, I am exhausted by it all. I long for the quiet of real winter. I do.
We need other people. We need social contact. We need touch and conversation and even companionable silence, time spent with others or one other who knows, loves and understands us – or at least tries to. We need acceptance, and shared laughter. I once played the game of hearts with one of my BFFs and her kids – including her very gassy and hilarious son. That night and that game is, like those people, stored in my heart as others might store jewels, coins, and bonds in a bank. We all need love.
And, then there’s this, from the playwright Harold Pinter RSVP’ing to Tom Stoppard, which I so relate to, and love. Ah, introvert season. From January 6th or so to April or May! How I love thee!
