If you’ve been living through the past however long now, you might’ve felt that collectively, we’re in need of a good laugh. A little something to take the edge off, a thing to smile and chuckle at to forget momentarily where we are or what we’re doing, a moment of levity in the sea of almost constant turmoil that is the current moment.

Starting over is hard. While we can all get excited about a fresh start or new chapter, there's also the lingering feeling that we’re starting from zero.

All gratitude practices require reframing. One involves changing “have to” to “get to”. For instance, you don't have to go to work, you get to. As someone who leaves home for my desk gig before the sun is up, this sentence sticks in my throat.

I'm skeptical of -- well, I'm skeptical about a lot of things, really. It's a practiced trait, developed because I'm inherently gullible and open hearted, leading friends to shake their heads and say things like shouldn't you know better by now?, or, how are you still like this?

Each one of us was raised in a weird little bubble. We grow up in our households with specific rules (in this house, we do / don't…), and it takes a minute before we realize that other homes have different expectations and allowances.

There's a quote that I think of often:

Live like the past was destiny, and the future is up to you.

I don't know where I heard this, and Google isn't helping. I do know that it's the answer to the question of fate vs freewill, and projecting my lived (living) experience through this lens clarifies my view.

I first saw Luke play in 2019 at the now closed La Plante in the Mile-End. He was performing solo (he played an instrumental electronic set of songs from his album Sleep Debt) and right away I realized that Holobody’s music was going to be an important part of the Montreal underground music scene.

Today is just a day. It is neither a holiday nor a holiday eve, and after weeks of gatherings and countdowns to other gatherings, it hits like a truck.

“In the new year, maybe I'll be a vegetarian. They can eat fish, right?” This was said at Christmas dinner over plates heaped with turkey and filet mignon. The actual vegetarians had teamed up to cook the bird for everyone else's sake.

It doesn't feel like Christmas. Sure, it feels Christmas-ish, and I'm digging the lights, and the folks out buying gifts are a chipper bunch, but it's different, too.