i always give great significance to the last month of the year, as a transitory period from a year to the next. As all transitions naturally entail, besides a temporal change, transitions are conscious acts I mark as both physical and emotional changes: as both points of departures and arrivals.

I depart from a year to another, I age and I arrive at another year (closer to my death).

In short, Decembers have this intangible force to render you depressed or filled with anticipation: A memory and a hope/movement. Of course, not all memories are depressing, but because they no longer hold a tangible existence, a sadness ensues from some sense of loss. I can't help it. we often lose, by virtue of the fact that things come and go. From being to the passing beyond existence. I lose touch of many things as I grow old. So Decembers are for nostalgia. Perhaps, my remembrance of things gone will conjure up some specters of whoever I miss?

History is more than often haunting me from behind, and I often hesitate to turn back. I peep now and then, but the face-to-face is often what frightens me. But not daring to face history does not mean I am not in relation to her, instead she has that particular dual force (like transitory Decembers), to entice and to haunt. Haunting is definitely a stronger word than depressing, but allow us to use them interchangeably.

Perhaps, the question now is what in particular do I remember THIS December and what haunts me still? I believe at this stage, it is not wise to disclose such private a matter but I consider it more macroscopic in my concern to consider this stage as another transitory period, which has more to do with the haunting of Hauntings, the depression of Depressions or the Hope of Hopefulness that perpetually linger in my consciousness.

Alright, in short, it simply means that aside from the particular post-event reactions, the actual reaction I have now is one that deal with the conceptual reality of how we deal with the past. In other words, I am not so much interested in particular events (though they are informative and shed lots of insight) compared to the more general concept that governs my responses.

To begin with, I presupposes that this endeavour is impossible. And it is this impossibility that informs me that subjectivity alone is just so narrow a concept. (Objectivity is worse) Subjectivity itself is a presupposition, which suggests that my consciousness and unconsciousness can tell me the truths. Instead, I find myself, more often, floating in a sea of subjectivities, relating to so many bi-, tri- relations or more. It is never easy to be alone. But I am still alone, alone when I confess, alone when I die, alone when I sleep...

So again, I return to the unresolvable stage, which is one that includes both the general concept as well as my fecundity and individual experience. Empiricalism is equally so narrow-minded a concept.

So what can I conclude now? There is really nothing to conclude, except what we already know. As an existence that have to deal with both space and time, I think Decembers are best to contemplate and to pretend that I am in a period of impasse. What is New Year in Singapore is hours before New Year in West. Nevertheless, even this impasse, this period of reluctance and (welcomed?) anticipation is a moment we have to be in relation to, thus a responsibility to.
December come and go and a year passes once it goes.

And so it is my responsibility to react to December. To bring this year to a close, whether I like it or not. With or without the mourning of people/things gone. If somewhere, it aches, for you too, my reader; if there is some place inside you that aches, there is always more places and more opportunities to be hurt deeper and broader. Aching is never isolated to just the heart. Pain comes and hits you in places, and in numerous ways and frequency. So instead of that perpetual lamentation, which can be irritating to you and everyone around you, think then of that this memory/depression/haunting is also a state of anticipation: of more pain, of release, of hope, of future and that indescribable fate of choice, that awaits you in another transitions and another. You ache because there are more aching to be experienced. But you ache because there might be a cure. Even if there isn't, there exists still that responsibility to the unknown. After all, the undeniable truth for me, without or without some theoretical model, is still my relation to time and space.

and as a conscious being in relation to God, my first responsibility is to God.
and the holiness of Holy.

--
by
paulo grey