Before I go further, you should go read this comment from yesterday’s post. It’s a great story that encapsulates the joys of Christmas-that-was and contrasts it with the stress and harsh reality of Christmas-that-is (and I hope you don’t mind me sharing it).
Wow. So whatever doubts I had that my Christmas ambivalence was just me are now gone. Apparently I touched a nerve for a lot of people. Whether it’s because of family history or the incessant march of capitalism, Christmas has lost a good share of its magic.
Whenever I write posts like this, I’m always reassured when I’m not the only one who thinks like I do. After all, I’m an introvert/ Most of my friends are introverts, too. This means we, for better or worse, tend to keep things to ourselves. Too often this ends up in thinking past each other, like when two wallflowers stand in opposite corners of a crowded dance floor lamenting that there’s nowhere to go sit down and read.
So yes, Christmas has lost some (read: most) of its grandeur for me. It seems to have been replaced by commercialism and cynicism; I’m just as guilty of planning around “If I get this for Christmas…” as the next person. I still remember that magic, and the fact that it’s been lost makes me sad.
But just knowing that I’m not alone in this has brought an ever-so-faint glimmer of that wonder back into the season for me. I don’t know if I’ll ever regain the aptly-named childlike wonder, but knowing that I have friends and family that care about me and understand me is amazing. And if you’ll permit me some sentimentality, it’s a great, touching Christmas present.