The Hype

I feel a certain panic as the holidays near. A “time is running out” sort of feeling. It isn’t as if I haven’t spent entirely too much on a ridiculous amount of gifts to adorn the nether regions of my Christmas tree. It isn’t as if I don’t have a fridge stocked with the makings of a fine Christmas dinner. No, and it isn’t as if we’ve missed any of the pre-Christmas church services, celebrating the “reason for the season.”
I think it’s just that there is all this hype – this extreme behavior that demands attention no matter how badly we’d like to look away. The commercial on the TV today, the one for Target, really gave me heart palpitations. Santa is running at full throttle through the Target parking lot, racing against the clock. Despite the fact that I am done with my shopping, I subconsciously glanced at the present-hiding places in my house, noting that they were all there, and silently chanted “Go, Santa…Go…”
My anxiety is likely related to this feeling of rush, excitement and beat-the-clock mania that begins with Black Friday and continues to Christmas Eve. The mad dash, for me, anyway, began at 1:30 Black Friday morning, and has continued producing dark circles under my eyes up to the present moment. Christmas Day comes, the wrapping paper is shed, the meals are consumed and then…it’s over. I now understand why this was all so magical as a child. As kids, we didn’t feel the panic, the stress. We felt only the excitement, the build-up of adrenaline that leads to the finale: Christmas Morning. 5 a.m. Only the glow of the Christmas tree and the shimmer of ribbon, so skillfully twisted and crafted, begging to be ripped. The ultimate joy of getting “just-what-I-wanted”, and the sweet reassurance that not only is there a Santa Claus, but, boy, he sure knows his stuff. When I was a kid, we piled into the car and headed to family’s houses for more festivities, more food, and inevitably, more gifts. We didn’t know what the heck was going on. We were on a ho-ho-high. All the preparation, all the lack of sleep, all the empty bank accounts that our parents and grandparents suffered….we didn’t know, and I am not sure we would have cared at that moment.
I now know what it feels like to be penniless, stressed, and overwhelmed. I know that I’ve worked desperately hard to make Christmases special, and to somehow out-do the previous year. I find it to be an unwritten rule that many parents follow. You’ve gotta have the “wow” factor, so this year isn’t the same as last year. This, friends, is why I panic. And as I write, I realize how very stupid that sounds. I have fallen victim to this materialistic controversy that has overtaken the meaning of Christmas, and replaced it with greed.
This year we’re staying home on Christmas day. It’s an ill-favored decision, especially among family members who disagree. I am trying, (‘though it may be in vain) to re-introduce peace into the day. No rushing, no greedy ripping of paper and a “more, more, more” attitude. I am hoping for a casual day of togetherness, enjoying the thoughtfulness of one-another’s gift giving, and the sharing of a meal prepared slowly and with love…at whatever time we decide to eat.
I’m not saying I’ve made the perfect choice. That remains to be seen. All the same, I’m looking forward to it.
What I am not looking forward to, however, is the panic that strikes between Christmas and the New Year. The “it’s all ending” feeling. The entertainment shows that showcase the highlights of the year, in a bittersweet culmination. It’s a little bit depressing, thinking of another year gone by. It’s a little hopeful, thinking of a fresh new start. Either way, for me, it induces a little anxiety.
Then again, we know by now that the way I view things might be slightly different than most normal, sane people. Just slightly.
To my friends and family, and to those I don’t even know…I wish you a Merry and Blessed Christmas. I wish you peace, comfort, and joy. I wish you all of the delights you had as a child, and then some.