I stuck a splinter in the tip of my middle finger today.
Nightmare for a guitar player. Absolute damn nightmare.
Had to sit with it for about thirty minutes before I could get my hands on some tweezers. That whole time it was just there — reminding me. Every little move. Every little touch. Finally got it out. Put on a Band-Aid. Relief came quick, but the memory of it stays.
Funny thing is, that splinter felt exactly like how Christmas feels to me this year.
An irritation.
Not a crisis.
Just… there.
I don’t see the dancing reindeer.
I don’t feel the ho ho hos.
Kids are grown.
No grandkids running around.
Town looks dressed up, but the feeling ain’t matching the decorations.
Something changed. Or maybe I did.
I hear folks talking about boycotting Christmas — holding back dollars to make a point about Black buying power. At first, that sounded wild to me. Then it didn’t. Then it made a little sense. Not saying it’s my fight, not saying it isn’t. Just saying there’s a lot of ways to feel about this season, and none of them feel simple anymore.
Truth is, I could do more.
I’ve got the means.
But I don’t feel the spirit to do it.
And that’s the strange part.
It ain’t sadness exactly.
It ain’t bitterness either.
It’s like that splinter — something small that throws everything off just enough to notice.
Maybe we gotta get it out.
Maybe we sit with it a few days.
Put a Band-Aid on it and let it heal on its own.
Christmas will be gone soon enough anyway.
So yeah… ho ho ho.
Let’s smile when we can.
Let’s remember the idea of Jesus and the birthday and all that good intention.
But I ain’t forcing cheer this year.
Just telling how it felt today.