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I had a strange holiday. It's difficult to actuate words to show indifference to all the celebrations that took foot, but I think this was the first that I felt like giving absolutely no shit for Christmas. I can't, for the life of me, kindle any appreciation for all the gift-givings and pretentious displays of generosity toward others. I had a conversation with my friend, Britt, earlier in December. I had inadvertently wished for all of the greatest toys as presents for her children on Christmas. This was followed by "we're trying not to teach our children to expect material gifts." I was embarrassed, but I believed similarly and had suggested it only because it was conventional to. This indicated my passive observance of the world, and there was justice in its resulting shame.
My godson, Lukas, will be celebrating his birthday this Friday. I'm careful more than ever with choosing the proper regalia to provide him in this celebration. I don't repudiate gift-giving entirely, I only hate the idea that people do so because they have to. This results to hasty decisions that fortify the economy of producing junk under the guise of toys, or other objects that serve no real purpose other than lighting up someone's face for a moment and then condemned to invisibility the next. Like Britt said, the most wonderful thing you can grant a child is the gift of experience. I bought Lukas a mid-level microscope set for Friday. This, I hope, will survive his youth and spark curiosity of the world in which his eyes can not readily see. There are other dimensions of reality outside his own, and I want him to experience it early on in his life.
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