The Lights Abound

I do love this time of year, when everything is particularly luminous and aflutter.

Finally, winter weather has arrived in dear Austin and I have to say that it does help jumpstart the holiday season. Call me crazy, but 75 degree evenings does not make me want to drape the house in garland. If I wanted weather like that, I would brave the superficial nonsensical nature that is L.A. (sorry in advance to those of you that live there and are quite truly good people).

It has been a hectic time at work. You would think that three days off for Thanksgiving would rejuvenate us, similar to a cucumber face mask at the end of a long day, but if anything my co-workers look more overworked and irksome than ever, as though the break was more of a sharp gardening tour being dragged over their face. It's hard, with students that spend their evenings playing video games and eating orange #5 colored snacks all day long. I think all those chemicals make them sassy. It certainly has made me want to race home and pop a bottle of something to stop the constant thoughts of how my students will pass their classes. It seems that before the end of the grading period, all my ELL boys unfailingly are piled into my room with fifty missing assignments that feel impossible to tackle in twenty two minutes. All those little moments of 'kid free time' are suddenly filled with sticky fingers, Spanish, and the sound of a chips bag crumpling.

Lately it has been especially hard to get my kids off my mind, even when the lights are off. My nightmares, while always regularly occurring, have become especially prevalent in my dreaming state. They always start with kids being in my actual bedroom (now now....don't take this in a sick direction, or a creepy one where they're covered in blood or something) and I realize that the lights are off! How in the world can they READ? So I try to get up, feeling guilty that I could possibly have slept during a lesson, when I realize, oh shit, I can't let them see me in my pajamas! I am horrified, and confused and sure I will be sacked when suddenly, I cross over into consciousness and realize I am dreaming. These dreams have been every night for the last two weeks, so now I can not escape being a teacher even in sleep! I'm sure if I were being filmed, like for my reality TV show, there would be some very scary sequences of me sitting straight up in bed and telling non-existent kids to get their feet off my bed, or to use more correct grammar when addressing a teacher.....

I have also found some lovely co-workers at my school. There have been many 'choir practices' (codes for happy hour) that have made the culture at school a lot more unified (even if we are unified by a habit to drink beer in large mugs after a hard day). It's really hard not to want to drink beer, especially in the winter. H told me the other day that she simply wanted to move to Ireland so she wouldn't be alone in her passion of sitting in a pub. I completely understand this urge, and in fact, have been so moved by the fantasy that I have been to Ireland and Scotland twice now, and surely I will go five or six times more just to hear those truly juicy accents. It truly is as romantical as we think it is, for the first three days, then one does get a bit bored and bloated.

But let's get back to lights. Yes, the lights. What is it that makes them so pleasing to the eye? I put up a strand of white lights in my room and viola, it is transformed into a den of incandescent beauty. Suddenly, I want to listen to different music and journal. The same with candlelight. Is it really that romantic or have we just seen countless movies that tell us true romance is only seeing 5% of the person you're making out with? And, what is it about the lights of downtown, that once there make you feel almost invincible? And why does the little street, 37th Street to be exact, look so much more darling when little luminous bulbs are hung from the roof? I don't know. All I know is that it is lovely, and we can not help but be inspired and drawn to it. Just our modest Christmas tree, not even weighted down by ornaments, makes me want to be in my living room now than ever before. It's why, in Prague, I would stand in Old Town, awestruck, by such beauty of the clock, lit up. I remember one night in particular, with the snow coming heavily down in the square, and it was late, perhaps 1am, when I should have never been alone, but I was. The Square was empty and yet, it was shivering with light. The towers boomed above and around me, shimmering, as I walked on the snow compacting beneath my feet. It was as though that whole night was posing for me, just so, and I have to admit I was quite unable to control my arms from flying up and my body moving in circular movements until it was one, fuzzy dreamland of light.

In the winter, especially the holidays, there is almost a community from light. People are brought together around it, celebrate how many days it lasted, and drape it in and out of our homes to show that we are part of a common rejoicing. It is funny how, over the years, my family has developed new traditions (an oxymoron, I know) that as kids we didn't do, but now they are among my favorite ways to celebrate. Perhaps the one most dear to my nostalgic heart is the lights tour my family goes on in Chico. We pile into one car and, with a local paper in hand, my father guides us around town in search of the most well displayed houses in the area. I also get to hear my dad give off that splendid laugh that he only let's us bare witness to when he is truly happy. We have a very unique, completely neurotic ranking system which mostly consists of mocking and berating houses (I mean really, don't you know all-red lights look demonic?) with the occasional moments of silence for at truly spectacular performance. We wait all year to watch as these ordinary houses transform into glowing masterpieces. I guarantee I have spent more time judging and clucking at lit houses than I have over priceless European art (this may also indicate that I am more pedestrian and provincial than I wish to believe, but no bother). The point is, that it is the light that makes things come alive. And it is this time of year more than ever that we must pause, look around, and enjoy that way the light absorbs you, owns you, delights you.

I could certainly go even further and talk about the 'inner light' which is, no doubt, a compelling topic, but I think we all know that could go on for a disturbing length of time.

So, I will instead, leave you with this dazzling line of letters and literary divinity:

"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light." -Plato