The particular event doesn’t matter as much as the
reaction. In the case that finally moved
me to write this, it was a gift, but it could just as easily have been any
pleasant surprise, or event. In
this case it was a gift. A simple,
inexpensive, but thoughtful and personalized gift from good friends. Because the gift came just before Christmas,
these friends very intentionally made very clear that this gift was NOT a
Christmas present, but rather a token of appreciation for… well, basically for
our friendship. They mentioned various
acts, but each fell under what I would simply consider “friendship,” and so
we’ll leave it at that for now. What’s
important in this story is not the gift, but my dearly beloved’s anticipated
reaction.
As long as I’ve known my dearly beloved, she has been the
worrier. I may be the analyzer who
cannot be content with the surface of anything without wanting to dive into it
and ponder its essence, but that’s very different from worry. I actually enjoy digging around for the “how”
or the “why” of something. For me, it is a
self-sustaining, perpetual source of joy and wonder, just as it is often a
source of consternation to those around me.
To say that my analyzing reduces stress for me is to under-emphasize how
pleasurable I actually find it. My
wife, on the other hand, is a worrier, and from what I can see, it’s not
because she derives pleasure from it.
When I got home with the gift, she was already in worry
mode. It was 2 days before a Christmas Eve
get together of mostly family and close friends – the kind of non-judgmental
people who would show up in any situation under any circumstances and just be
there and enjoy themselves and each other.
These are people who accept others (us, anyway) for who we are. They are free of affectation,
salt of the earth, easy going, unpretentious, friendly people who have known us
most of our lives. They do a good job of at least pretending to love us, warts
and all. There would be no “business
associates” or “potential clients” or employers. There would be no need for
“acting” or “behaving.” There was no reason to try to impress anyone, and no
one expecting to be impressed. We weren’t planning this event due to societal
pressure or expectation. There would be no speech-making or performances. In
fact, we’ve NEVER planned any events like that at home. (Those kinds of events
could be legitimately stressful. This
one would not.) This was going to be as casual and relaxed as a get together could be. We still had a couple of days to finish
getting ready, although “getting ready” basically meant being here, making sure
the holiday lights were on outside, and having some snacks and beverages ready.
She had just hauled in the first load of groceries, putting us that much closer
to being as ready as we could be for this non-event event. Naturally, she was worrying about it.
I purposefully chose to not mention the gift at that moment
because I knew the stress of bringing in the rest of the groceries and getting
them put away was too much competition.
We hauled in the groceries. On
the last trip, with counter space running low, she grabbed the gift to move it
out of the way but stopped to say, “what IS this?”
It was my fault. I
shouldn’t have left it on top of the mail – another source of worry – on the
kitchen island, but I didn’t want to put it with presents under the tree since
I’d been instructed to emphasize that it was NOT a Christmas gift, and because
I feared I’d forget about it when just such a crisis as this inevitably popped
up, and we’d end up finding it there, under the tree, Christmas morning, which
would really defeat any attempt to emphasize that it was NOT a Christmas gift,
and so I sat it on the counter and forgot about it for the moment. Now, trapped by my own lack of planning, and
the crisis of having groceries to put away,
I simply said, “open it.” As she
unfolded the tissue paper, I told her "it's from Ryan and Sandy and they
specifically instructed me to tell you it is NOT a Christmas gift.
“We didn’t get them anything.” she said.
“I don’t think we were supposed to. They said it was a 'thank you' for our help with their recent move and some of the work on their new place and because we are friends. Isn’t it neat?” I replied.
“We didn't even get them a housewarming present. What is it?”
“It’s a, __(it really
doesn’t matter what it is, I promise)__, pretty cool, huh?” I said,
attempting to remain in what should have been a pleasant moment.
“Oh, yeah. That is
neat.” (and therein did the pleasantry
cease and desist) “They got us a Christmas present last year too. They even gave each of the girls gift
cards. We’ve never gotten them
anything.”
“It’s NOT a Christmas gift.
Sandy specifically, emphatically told me to tell you that.”
“Well why did they give it to us? I feel really bad. We didn’t even get them a housewarming
present.”
"You already said that."
This went on for a little longer as we put the groceries
away and she thought out loud about not knowing what we should get them for
their new house, but clearly worrying about how important it is that we do, and
sooner rather than later. Soon after,
her need for a different source of worry turned back to the party, wrapping
presents, food prep, and the usual weeknight evening stuff.
A few hours later, lying in bed, watching Comedians in Cars
Getting Coffee, me, relaxing before sleep, her, worrying about something else
before sleep, on the TV, Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Jerry Seinfeld talked about
the oddities of marriage, conflicts, and the like. Dreyfus shared with Seinfeld her grandmother’s
advice: “always have something to look forward to.”
In that context, I woke up this morning realizing just how special the gift had actually become. I now have
something truly epic to look forward to. (aside from actually looking forward
to our get-together, which I truly do and would even more if it didn’t worry my
dearly beloved so much)
How many people seem to have no purpose in life? How empty must a life like that be? How many
marriages dissolve simply because folks forget to find something to look
forward to with each other? How fortunate am I to have
finally stumbled upon an endeavor that solves all of that pointless wandering,
and guarantees I will always have a direction…a purpose? I will never be
without something to look forward to, something to work toward, and something
that rededicates me to the dearly beloved woman I married more than two decades
ago. My life’s work has finally dawned
on me. Before I leave this current
configuration, I will teach (convince, cajole, coerce…??) my wife to be able to
accept an act of kindness, or an opportunity to have fun, or experience joy for
what it is – an act of kindness, or an opportunity to have fun, or experience
joy - rather than as a source of worry and fret, or a trigger to examine one’s
own perceived flaws…or I’ll die trying!
If I’m successful,
one day I will have the pleasure of seeing my wife’s face light up (I’ve seen
this before, I know it can happen) without that light immediately turning to a
cloud of worry about all of the subsequent implications. One day I will experience the joy of seeing
her experience joy. Just joy. Not fear, worry, or stress over the
infinitely-possible-and-thus-not-worth-considering possibilities for next
steps. Just joy. Joy, that for a moment, has no implications,
costs no one else anything, has no consequences. I really think that’s how joy is supposed to
work and I now know it’s my life’s purpose to prove that to her. Joy is not one shoe, always followed by the other, more ominous shoe. It's just joy.
As adults and parents, I think we're all a little conditioned to think this way. Joy at the birth of our
wonderful kids is naturally followed by the fear of how we will screw them
up. Joy at the purchase of our first
home is naturally followed by the stress of making payments and maintaining it. Joy as they're accepted to college is followed by sadness that they're leaving. Joy at each milestone is coupled with the inevitable, unavoidable recognition of time passing, but the joy, in and of itself is pure, and need not be associated with anything other than joy. What comes after it could actually be more joy. That's up to us. The joy (and
honor and privilege) of having guests in our warm, comfortable home, for no
other reason than to acknowledge what a blessing it is to have a home and
friends and family to share it with, should not be a source of stress. There should be no implications. There are no consequences. There should only be joy.
I now have a mission of convincing my wife of this. As proud as I am of some of the cool stuff
we’ve accomplished, together and alone, I don’t think I’ve ever had a more
important mission than this one I’ve just discovered: unencumbered joy, first to my wife and then
to the world!
So thank you, a second time, for the wonderful gift, and happy holidays everyone!
Luth
Out
