I heard a quote recently, ‘We’re all just walking each other home.’

The original quote is by Ram Dass, but that’s irrelevant to this writing. The quote might be as well, except to say that it’s suddenly among my favourites.

The holiday season is upon us once again, and that means something different to everyone reading this. Christmas, Kwanza, Hanukah, or myriad others. Family, joy, connection, isolation, pain. Maybe nothing at all.

There’s a good deal of variety to the season, and that’s to say nothing of the New Year.

Once upon a time, I used to write an essay every New Year. It seemed like a great way to reflect on what I’d accomplished, what I’d loved, what I’d lost, and what I’d yet to learn. I think I hoped that by putting it all down on paper, some great revelation might come down to me from on high and steer me towards some bold new course.

That never happened.

Still, I remain rather fond of the year’s end…or beginning—however you choose to see things. I’d say it’s a sort of glass half-empty or glass half-full kind of thing, but I don’t really think it’s that complicated. Neither is the whole glass idea for that matter. Only if you treat it as such.

What matters, of course, is what’s in the glass. This season, I hope you all have something to fill your cups and warm your guts.

I think the more important thing is the quote above…which is—like any worthwhile idea—about life and death. The terrible truth is that none of us are getting out of this alive. Life isn’t about surviving, it’s just about getting back to the void from whence we came in the most entertaining and enjoyable way possible, and I think that a big part of that comes down to who we’re walking with.

So, as you go along your holiday season, pay attention to those beside you. They’re the only reason for it to matter, after all.

It’s been a while since I’ve written like this. It’s been nice. I have a whiskey beside me, and the pounding of the keyboard is driving out the third playthrough of the album I’ve had on repeat since I first started this dance a couple of hours and several projects ago.

I’ve found a groove.

Writing is about speaking truth, and if you can’t do that, then you have no business writing in the first place. Sure, it requires patience, practice, and just a touch of pugnacity, but without some essential truth to tell, none of that is worth jack shit. Writing is about capturing what you can’t avoid saying, not about forcing yourself to say anything. It’s revelation, not repetition.

That’s it. That’s all I have to say. Now, I’m going away to walk beside those whose company I cherish, if they’ll have me.

I’ll be gone for a bit, and with any luck return to you my dear readers around January 12^th. That said, I may be re-visiting the weekly format in favour of publishing whenever the hell I choose. It seems more proper at any rate.

I’m writing another book, and that takes up a good deal of my time and attention.

I don’t make resolutions anymore, so I won’t leave you with any. No false promises, no hollow claims, no empty braggadocio. I’ll be back when I can. Look out for me, especially at unlikely times.

Wait till you see what’s next…

Happy Holidays you filthy animals,

-Brad OH Inc.