A No-Present Christmas

Over the past few years I've been struggling with the commercialism of Christmas and the obligation to consume that comes along with it. Admittedly, I'm not a super religious person, so my primary objection is not along the lines of the "put Christ back in Christmas" thinking. However, the idea that we've strayed far from the central themes of these winter solstice time holidays (whether Christmas or Hanukah) to something utterly material resonates with me strongly. What about those central themes of hope and rebirth-admist-darkness?

Massive displays of red, green and white merchandise do not bolster my faith in the world. Buying and receiving gifts that are made by factory workers in China and are largely disposable could never represent the depth of love I feel for my family and friends. Not to mention that these items are often wasteful and many end up as plastic in landfills within months. Nothing I could buy will bring the kind of togetherness I hope to achieve with my nuclear family or my own children when they come. I guess I hope that when I am in charge of my own holiday, once we have children, that gifts would play a tertiary or non-existent role. This doesn't mean I don't want my children to have a "Christmas experience", or that I'd be some kind of anti-consumer grinch. It just means I hope that gifts will have little or no importance in our overall celebration. I want Christmas to be about our time together, not what we could buy each other.

It is for all of these reasons that Ry and I decided we wanted to have a no-gift Christmas. I had heard a story on NPR last year of a family that had a no-gift holiday and they said the results were spectacular. They described more time for togetherness and unity, without the pressure and obligation to buy. This sounded ideal to me and I proposed it to my family, who agreed to participate though it seems with a great less thrill than I feel about it. It seems they have accepted this experiment, but most of them are still buying gifts for each other. I suppose, that's natural. I don't know why I expected others would want to be totally on board with this notion, especially because peoples' attachment to gift giving is strong. I can't fault anyone with this attachment. There is much pleasantness associated with it and it's certainly traditional at this point. I'm just not sure when it's snowballed into something seems to eclipse the larger meaning of the holiday for many people out there, but nonetheless it's a largely happy tradition. So, stepping out of it represents an oddity or split from the norm.

I'm not a huge fan of receiving gifts. I'm thankful for them, certainly, and I have received gifts that truly touch me, but often receiving them makes me feel uncomfortable. Sometimes it's because I don't feel deserving. Other times it's because there are many things I truly don't want to fill the extra space in my life. I want to live simply. Gift giving usually comes with the best intentions. A loved one is attempting to express a feeling, love, gratitude with their gift. How can you possibly express that you'd rather not have a gift without creating a sense of rejection or seeming self-righteous? Conversely, and quite paradoxically, I love giving gifts. I love giving them most when there is no obligation and they are a thoughtful and happy surprise.

Today, Ry and I spent some time canning our little homemade gifts for family and friends. They are simple almost to the point of being mundane. They are small, but have been time consuming. Now that the holidays are almost upon us, I wonder if they will be enough. Maybe I should be giving my family members more? Knowing that others will participate in more elaborate gift-giving and we will not makes me worry that we will feel left out in some way, or that our family members will think we do not care about them or that we're just cheap.

I've expressed these feelings and fears to Ry and he says to let them go. We've decided not to participate in the consumer portion of the Christmas tradition this year and this represents a break from convention. He says that when you break from convention, you cannot expect that it will please everyone or be accepted by everyone. He says we've made the choice already for this year and it's something that is important to us. I guess all that's left to do at this point is accept that choice whole-heartedly and see where it leads me.

View out the side window of our living room after this year's first snow.


Silvio always goes exactly where you don't want him to go.


It's tough to get a clear pic of the tree at night without a tripod or super nice camera. Homemade cranberry garland.


Up close with my stocking on the mantel. My mom made it for me when I was a wee one.