One Less Gift

After the multi-month purge of our unused, not needed household belongings I thought for sure we'd be in good shape for the holidays. Yet as I scurried about the house the other night picking up the obscene amount of paper we seem to pile up week-to-week I looked around and suddenly saw at least 100 more things we don't need. Why is that one drawer still so full? Oh right, because I have a dozen versions of a spatula shoved in there.

The poor sagging bookshelves that are way past their prime, weighed down by books that we have no intention of reading again and frankly don't even pass the "hey they are smart, look at the books they have" test that we all pretend we don't do, but totally do.

I have two silver plated beverage buckets that are great for holding beverages at a party for 30. They've been in a box for going on five years now. So either I need to throw more parties or perhaps their peak usage during our 20s has past.

How is it that when I finished my last trip to Goodwill in September, I thought I had checked every corner, given away anything that wasn't necessary. Suddenly, my house once again seems overrun, full of the Crate & Barrel empire I thought I had at least thinned.

This was top of mind when we were asked about Christmas lists. For the first time, we can really say, we don't "need" anything. Seriously, enough with the stuff. We love you and we're sure it (whatever it is) is lovely, but really we'd rather just see you and not have one more thing to dust. Or as DH wisely said, add it to our down payment fund.

I've also been struck by how much we focus on filling up our trees and stockings with gifts for the pleasure of watching each other open them. Even if we know half the items will be abandoned or broken within the next year, we want to make sure we "buy enough."

So here's an idea. What if we each put one beautifully wrapped box under the tree that represented the gift not given to each other. Instead of buying one more toy or pair of cashmere socks, we instead donate that value, whether it's $5 or $100, to a family in need or charity that serves them in your local area. That box could be opened and used as a moment to remember how lucky we all are to have a tree and stockings to open on Christmas morning. Maybe it becomes an annual tradition and you can recall together who the box helped each year.

If we can spend the energy moving an elf from shelf to shelf for an entire month, the effort required to do a little less and help someone a little more is surely worthwhile.

P.S. My brilliant friend Danielle is tackling this same idea through her very cool project TooMuchToDo.