Friday, September 30, 2011

Don't let go of your giddy.

It’s not hard to remember the Christmases of my childhood. That nervous mix of anticipation and joy. The butterflies. The giddy excitement.
What is hard? Trying to access that feeling again. As an adult. Snarky and easily annoyed. Christmas magic = over-marketed hype. It used to be different. Better. Because we waited all year. To get presents, to sing songs, to watch Specials on tv.



Just the percussion on the CBS indentifier is nostalgia overload! 
Now stores start promoting Christmas in October and kids seem to get what they want when they want it. Including holiday Specials on dvd. Let’s watch The Grinch in April! The thrill of waiting is gone. 

I know I sound like my 85 year-old neighbor who frequently tells me how much better things were when her kids were small. Seriously. She works it in to most conversations, like there’s anything I can do about the fact that my kids are kids in 2011. The roads were less busy, people were less busy. Apparently bluebirds serenaded from her windowsill. It was real nice. Was, was, was.
I’m not like that. I don’t think the world today is awful. A mess maybe, but we’ve endured worse. When I’m down about the current state of affairs, I recall the Royal Mile in Edinburgh, Scotland. It’s a steep street that leads to the city’s castle. Once upon a time, those accused of crimes (meaning not necessarily guilty) were put in barrels with metal spikes and rolled down the hill. Ouch. If you survived, they took you back up for another go. People would come out to watch. Good entertainment in what was considered a very civilized town. And don’t get me started on the plague. Or slavery. Or petticoats in the heat, infant mortality, and the general lack of convenience associated with self sufficiency. I like grocery stores.
Even 50 years ago when my neighbor was hooping it up with her young family, there were lots of sordid happenings, we just didn’t talk about it or feature the details on 24 hour news channels. Many suffered in silence. La-dee-da. Slip on your penny loafers and smile.
(This post has taken a heavy turn and for that I apologize. See? Snarky and annoyed.)
What makes me think of all this now? Because there is something that still stirs my jagged, jaded soul. And the more I wait for it, the better it feels. Fall weather. No one’s trying to sell it to me. It just happens. When it’s good and ready. After a long, hot summer. After countless sticky, humid days. Crisp and breezy autumn air mixed with bright sunshine and billowy clouds will tie up my gut in knots of pure joy. The smell of leaves and apples. A warm cup of coffee in my hands on a cold morning. A refreshing sense of renewal that seems to wash away the summer muck.
So here’s my question for you to jot down, answer, and then put away. (If you’re doing the exercise explained in my first post, which I suspect many of you aren’t, though I wish you would.) When was the last time you felt a genuine wave of excited anticipation?
I think it might be 50 and windy on Sunday. Look for my next post to complain about putting coats on babies and putting (jamming, wrestling) bundled up babies in car seats.

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