I adore giving gifts.
I love choosing them, and I especially love wrapping them. But sometimes, I think I’m giving gifts for
all the wrong reasons.
“I don’t think I bought anyone any WOW gifts this year,” I
told my mom one day before Christmas (likely during an all-day ‘Say Yes to the
Dress’ marathon). And by ‘WOW gifts’, I
mean that gift that is exactly what you didn’t even know you were looking for,
I mean that gift that makes you freak out and scream and do a happy dance all
around the living room on Christmas morning.
The perfect gift. This year, as
with many years, I bought a LOT of gifts for my family. They were all perfectly fine gifts, but they
were an assortment of small gifts with no over-riding ‘main gift’. And as much as I’m sure (I hope) that my
gifts were greatly appreciated, a small part of me always craves for that big
reaction.
No matter how many times my rational side reminds me that it
is the spirit of giving and the thought that counts, a little selfish voice
inside my head still wants for MY gift to be the BEST gift. I want to buy the gift that you will tell all
your friends about when they ask you about your holidays. I want to buy you your new favourite book-
the one that, years from now, you will still talk about and say, “Jazmin bought
it for me”. I want to buy you a
paradigm-shifting, life-changing, dream come true.
* * *
I once heard somewhere that the secret to happiness is
gratitude: true and real, unforced, natural gratitude. Nothing can make you happier than being
thankful. And that’s something I need to
work on. I appreciate each and every one
of the gifts I get, I truly do (well, maybe not the obese-sized granny panties
my grandma thought were pajamas), but I always cloud my own gratitude with my
gluttony for thanks and my lust for appreciation. NOT ANYMORE, I SAY. It’s time for my rational brain to win the
war and convince my selfish self that the best gifts hold no material value.
Jazmin
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