Shopping For Last Minute Presence
Part 2: A trip to the mall with the Ghost of Christmas Present
Welcome to the second leg of our Muppet Christmas Carol-inspired holiday (time) travel journey! In case you’re just tuning in, feel free to go back in time and orient yourself here and then climb aboard here.
In fact, while you’re at it, this magic button👇🏻 will ensure you never miss another post:
I don’t think I’m supposed to say this, but.…I like getting presents.
Even saying that makes me feel…well, superficial comes to mind. Spoiled close behind it. Did I wake up every Christmas morning as a kid, hoping for a giant pile of presents I could practically swim through? Yes. Of course. But that’s not really what I’m talking about. And even still…
Somewhere along the way, I picked up that you’re not supposed to want things. Not just things, but anything beyond what you already have. Wanting became synonymous with greed that could only be solved with gratitude. As if the two were fundamentally opposed.
Like you can’t appreciate what you have while, at the same time, wanting more.
Or maybe I just misunderstood the message.
I remember when the Five Love Languages book first came out, everyone quickly distanced themselves from the Gifts love language. I don’t know which one is my love language, but it’s definitely not Gifts. I don’t care about material things like that...
But material things aren't actually the thing. At least not for me. I don’t know if presents are my real love language, but my love for receiving presents is about the delight and the surprise. It’s everything I’m always looking for, all wrapped up (literally), into one beautiful package or thoughtful card or bouquet of flowers or cup of coffee.
I also love giving gifts. Which might be obvious. I think we tend to love in the same way we want to be loved. My ears are always tuned to listen for cues, my eyes watching for sparks. My memory seems designed to remember a brand or a product or a story someone casually mentions loving, one time, in a random conversation. So, I tuck the idea in my pocket, and then later, tuck the real thing into a box, and hand it over to them long after they’d forgotten they said anything about it.
I love the gasp of that moment. The recognition on their faces, tracing the connection to a conversation across time.
The real gift, I think- regardless of the shape or language it comes in- is being seen and known by someone you love.
Last year, Chase and I did almost all of our Christmas shopping in person. We even assembled our wish lists by just wandering through shops, eyes wide open, looking at everything like an option, like a possibility. Holding up and admiring and imagining.
This sparkly puff sleeve mini dress is so fun! I wonder where I could wear something like this? I wonder if I will have parties to go to next year?
These coupe glasses would be perfect for making fun cocktails and having people over for dinner. We could play records and burn these hand-dipped taper candles in those candle holders I found at the last shop, made by that local ceramicist….I’d love to own more locally handmade things.
We should really play more records. I want to listen to more records, like, on a normal weekday night…like when I’m cooking!
Look at this recipe book of gorgeous salads made with fresh vegetables from a backyard garden. I wish I had a garden….or a backyard…am I someone who enjoys salads....would a beautiful cookbook like this turn me into someone who enjoys salads...would I eat more salads if I had a deep, speckled pottery bowl made by a cool local ceramicist to eat them out of?
Oh look at this puzzle! We should totally do more puzzles!
I always think about setting goals and writing resolutions as a new year activity, but making a Christmas list is kind of a vision-casting exercise in itself. It prompts you to ask: What did you enjoy this last year and what do you want more of in the year ahead? Who do you want to be and how does that version dress? Where do they go and how do they spend their time? What accessories and activities and experiences support those hobbies and pursuits and personas.
The beauty of shopping this way- other than reclaiming a Christmas tradition that immersed us in the holiday spirit, and turning what had become an ‘add to cart’ task into a joyful, interactive experience- was how it brought us into the present moment. It was a way of imagining a future by responding to what was right there in front of you.
Sometimes, when I’m really owning my wanting, I can get so far ahead of myself in the future, that the present shrinks in the distance and feels lackluster and puny.
Holding your having and your wanting at the same time is a tricky balance. But honoring both is the most honest kind of truth.
What brings me back, even if it takes awhile, is remembering what the bagel taught me earlier this year: We find what we’re looking for.
And Roald Dahl’s voice always pipes in with this invitation “Watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who (don't) believe in magic will (never) find it.”
Everything is here. Maybe not everything I want. But everything that already is. A present that used to be a past’s future. A fullness the exact size of a moment. Similar in size to a heart.
As we embark on our new shopping tradition, soaking in the kind of comforting familiarity of manufactured charm and fake snow you can only find in LA, a group of future Grammy winners sing ‘Let It Snow’ in the background. A line of children wait to see Santa. Fellow shoppers hustle and bustle alongside friends.
It’s in the singing of the street corner choir
It's going home and getting warm by the fire
It's true where ever you find love it feels like Christmas
I look around. We grab a hot chocolate. I pay attention.
A cup of kindness that we share with another
A sweet reunion with a friend or a brother
Searching and seeing at the same time.
In all the places you find love, it feels like Christmas
Lyrics to another festive carol playing through my head, offering guidance toward the feeling, which is the present I’m really after.
It's all the ways that we show love
That feel like Christmas
When one of my friends asked her nephew for his Christmas list this year, he hesitated, clearly conflicted. “I know what I want,” he said, “and I really really want it, but I know if I ask for it, I’ll get it, and then I won’t be surprised.”
He had a point. The trick of the Christmas list- both receiving one and writing one- is that you want to grant a wish (or to have a wish granted) but part of the magic is in not knowing whether or not it will come true.
What are you wishing for this year? A thing, a feeling, an experience, a leap forward, a return? I promise if you tell me, I won’t spoil the surprise.
Whatever it is, I hope you get everything you want. I hope you have everything you need. I hope this season holds surprise and delight and joy. I hope this present feels like a future come true for your past. I hope you are filled with and surrounded by a lot of love.
In the spirit of being present this season, our final stop in this series will arrive in January. That is to say, we will explore the future in the future.
In the meantime, be well and merry and bright.
P.S. Speaking of love languages, thank you for the gift of your time and attention this year. I can’t even begin to tell you what it means. Truly. There are no words. Believe me, I’ve looked for them.
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