December 11, 2015

Holiday Gift Guide, Vol. 1

What is it about the buzz of the holiday season that gets us all giddy… feeling antsy and aglow with childlike wonder and excitement?

The energy is electric – even palpable.

Every season I wait for that anxious flutter of excitement to take hold; smiling I sit back and wait as it tickles my spine and dances around inside my belly. Lately though, I fear the flutter is dwindling a little. It’s fickle and harder to seek out. As the years tick by it takes us longer to find that pure, eager sensation – the true “holiday spirit” we cherished as children.

Now it seems no matter how many times I sit down to watch Home Alone – armed with a cup of hot cocoa and strategically wrapped in a pair of fuzzy, fleecy pj’s – somehow, the cocoa gets cold, my “perfect” pj’s never seem to match, and though I try to ignore it, I can practically recite each of Kevin McCallister’s classic lines right down to the cheeky face-grabs and wide-mouthed screams. I suppose it’s not completely hopeless. Last year a little Maker’s Mark found it’s way into my mug of cocoa…I think an elf did it. 🙂

It’s undoubtedly true. As we age, that bright youthful innocence that burns so fervently in our younger years… fades just a little. It’s all you can do to catch that moment. To freeze it in your memory forever. I think that is why now, when I sense a spark of excitement shiver through me, I hang on with all of my might. I hope that it will find a cozy, tiny corner of my soul to settle in for the Winter.

Though the innocence may be long gone, the memories of holidays past hold true – with just as much thrill as they always had. I can see my Mom setting up her miniature Christmas village with the sweet little houses and tiny flecks of fake snow. I wanted to live in that town. The miniature lampposts had the warmest glow; they were so incredibly realistic. Together we’d decorate the Christmas tree to the tune of “Take 6” softly humming in the background. I’m not sure how this album made it into the mix; I have a musician for a father. He was largely jazz influenced.

We’d watch Jiminy Cricket’s Christmas every Christmas Eve and annually sat in the audience of Riverside Ballet Art’s performance of “The Nutcracker” – which to this day I still enjoy. In Act II of every show I sit anxiously listening for the very confused, awe-stricken child to loudly ask his mother with a sense of assertive conviction, “but Mom why are there dancing cucumbers on the stage?”

There are no Cucumbers cast in The Nutcracker Ballet – a real tragedy of which I am certain.

With an evolution that happens naturally over time, I do find that some traditions just won’t tarnish. For me, it is the sights and sounds of the beautiful waltzing flowers. A chorus of tiny feet sweeping and floating across the stage, perfectly punctuating Chaikovsky’s dreamy score. A Nutcracker Prince and a little girl’s foggy dream.

It’s the echoes of William Hurt. A calm, steady voice reciting The Polar Express as we flip through the crisp pages of Chris Van Allsburg’s dreamy imaginings – an ilusory depiction of children aboard a train to see Santa. And finally, it’s the thrill of putting together the perfect wishlist – gathering ideas and finding true joy in matching each special gift to the guy, girl, friend, or family member who has made your life just a little bit brighter this year.

May each of your holidays be brighter than the last, may you want of nothing more than the blessings you possess, and might each of you find that spark of childlike wonder this season – even if only for a moment.