You see it. A palpable tension. An agitated hum. More voltage, higher speeds, greater impatience, fear in the eyes. Pressure! It's the holidays!
Yoikes.
I've surrendered most of that, though I understand it.
The fear of failing at the height of transactional trauma.
Sigh.
Maybe instead of saying "Merry Christmas," we should invoke a salute to stillness or silence.
Somehow.
Some way.
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