The Perfect Gift

I wrapped presents last night and was reminded of why I don’t like Christmas—how I automatically evaluate my expressions of love as performances and almost always come up short. While wrapping presents for people I really love, I’m wondering: ‘Will this gift be enough or will they be disappointed?’ ‘Is this wrapping job creative and fun, or just plain sloppy?’ In some part of my mind, the balance is delicate and the consequences overly consequential. While wrapping, I notice this internal conversation and work to ignore the critical one who chatters away so relentlessly on my shoulder.

But maybe I should give him a gift? He’s a hard worker, this little fellow—constantly vigilant lest a mistake be made. It’s a dangerous, nerve-racking job. Always on the alert. Always imagining the dire repercussions that would cascade down from some possible unskillful action. Most of his attention is devoted to worrying about how others are feeling and will be feeling—how they will react to something I do or don’t do. He’s not really concerned about me and how I’m doing. Or rather, he is concerned about me, but from the perspective that my happiness will only be possible when everyone else is happy with me—especially those people closest to me.

On the plus side, he does want me to be happy and safe. Now that I think about it, he is more into safety than happiness. From his perspective, this is life and death stuff. Negative reactions to my actions feel life-threatening to my critical little buddy. He lives in constant fear of doing the wrong thing and being cut off. ‘What if we do something wrong and everyone leaves us?’ ‘What if they decide we’re not worth their time anymore?’ Poor fellow.

He tries so hard. He’s quite admirable and inspiring in that way. Relentlessly working though his fear, he thinks and plans far into the disthymic future. If everything is so delicately balanced and the stakes are so high, there is no time to rest or slack off.

He lives in the world of a scared little boy. This little boy can’t quite figure the world out and is sure it’s all up to him to make everything come out right. He constantly works hard and things do come out right so he has learned he must keep working hard in order to keep things coming out right. Trapped in a never-ending feedback loop.

So, for Christmas this year, I’m getting him an all-expenses paid vacation to Costa Rica. Since he’s not real, Covid-19 is no problem. He can just slip into an empty seat on the next flight down. But as I think more deeply, I realize that that’s not what he wants. He’d just lie there on the white sand beaches under the warm sun and be worried about me.

No, what I need to give him is a stay-cation. That’s clearly the perfect gift! I’ll get him a mini barcalounger for use on my shoulder. I’ll also give him a four-pack of Greater Good ‘Pulp Daddy’ Imperial IPA and some 1,000 day aged gouda cheese. He can sit back in the lounger, sip beer, nibble cheese and survey the world from his advantaged perch on my shoulder. And the final gift, the one that will really let him know how much I love him and change his life forever, will be a copy of the Tao Te Ching so he read about the glories of ‘doing not-doing’ while he’s lounging around at home.

I can just see the surprised and delighted look on his face as he opens the wonderful presents I have gotten for him. He’ll look at me with wondrous disbelief that, having a choice, I would still be willing to have him stay. With slightly watery eyes we’ll remember our deep love for each other. And as we hug, we’ll both appreciate the intimacy and immediacy of our sometimes challenging relationship. We’ll remember again that though we can never get it right, that’s part of the fun of it all.