little did i know
Back to work tomorrow morning. A big part of me is very glad the holidays are over, for various reasons. After all the excitement, it’s nice to resume some semblance of a routine–it gives a little more structure to family life, not to mention our financial life… …which dovetails nicely into another reason I’m glad the holidays are over: The end, or at least the receeding, of the parade of American commercialism that defines the last month of the year in this country.
I don’t know if it’s my nature to be so anti-consumerist, or if it’s something formed out of years spent in a less commercialized country in Europe, not to mention the frugality I learned from my mom and dad. I suspect it’s all of the above to some degree. But regardless–and I could just be vocalizing a temporary mood–I never knew how strong my own holiday backlash could be until I made a trip to Wal-Mart earlier tonight, on the Sunday after the New Year and all the holidays had ended, and felt absolutely suffocated by almost everything in the store that could fall in the “want” (as opposed to “need”) category of desire. This constitutes the bulk of the merchandise in the store. Between the TVs dangling from the ceiling at every aisle intersection and a brief visit to the electronics department, where almost everything is superfluous, I just wanted out.
I have a similar reaction when I visit the mall (at any time of the year), and this is something I’ve articulated to Diane: Borne out of the commercial culture we live and breathe in this country, there are so many things competing for my attention. Everywhere I look something jumps out at me and yells “Buy me!” whether I actually want it or not, and the cumulative effect is enough to make me want to vomit. Quite literally. I don’t say such things often.
Contrariwise, part of what I love so much about just taking a walk with Luke or going for a drive in the country is the opposite of what I experience when I watch any amount of TV or go to the mall: Nothing competes for my attention. The trees and houses, flowers, sky and leaves wait patiently for me to observe them, contemplate them, admire them; they don’t elbow their way into my field of view like so much of the consumeristic pap that gluts our culture. The effect of the walks and drives becomes the opposite of feeling manipulated: I can have a complete thought, or series of them, I have time to close my eyes or breathe or have a real conversation with my wife or son. Speaking of wants and needs… I need that.