Malling our way through Christmas

After

Before

It's a tradition for my brother and me to go Christmas shopping at the MoA, and amidst the craziness of this year, we wanted to try to keep it up if we could. The tradition started accidentally, as they often do. When we had first moved to the city, and for the first time in our lives didn't live in the same house and weren't setting up for Christmas together, we wanted to do something special. And we thought, why not the mall? Brightly decorated for Christmas, bustling festive shoppers, and a good way to sneak in a little Christmas shopping while we were at it. And so we went, and enjoyed ourselves, and said 'Let's do it again next year!'. We took a picture in the mirror across from the magnolia painting at Nordstrom, bought just one or two things, talked about everything and nothing. It was a good way to realize: this is really it. It's Christmas. And the whole world is celebrating. Yes, this is the commercial side of it, but let's make the most of the festivity, and celebrate the glamour while it's here. I do love me a bit of sparkle.

2019

2020

This year of course, is different. I had to think through whether we should actually go, and weigh the risks and rewards. Fortunately my antibodies make me a low risk for myself and others, and my brothers felt good about going too. They both wanted to come this year! So we decided to keep tradition among the tumult of change and different, a blow against isolation and loneliness.

I don't want to minimize how hard this year has been for so many of us. Even today, I'm getting news of hard things, and praying through the fog of so much going on in this world. So much pain. I want to share the joys we do get to celebrate, but not flaunt the fact that I did get to go out and do something (almost) normal. Some of you can't, and I feel that. I felt blessed to be out in it today. Masked, and distanced, and a little heart-achey, but trying to embrace the life I still have, and the people still in my bubble.
This is a year full of hard decisions, as well as decisions taken right out of our hands. It's weighing things we never thought we'd have to think about, like if it's safe to see our grandparents. Or go Christmas shopping.

I've done the rest of my shopping online, so this will be my only excursion (besides groceries etc). I look forward to the day when I can go into dozens of small businesses, and privately owned shops without putting people at risk. To the days when I can browse a museum for as long as I want without wondering what I'm breathing on. Where I don't have to rely on deliveries and interfaces and online and virtual and screens quite so much.

The only things I bought were books. Speaking of waiting for the day.... I forget how much I love Barnes & Noble. Any bookshop, really. And when I can, I plan to find out where all the best ones are, and just browse for hours without pressure to buy. To smell the old books and touch the new ones. To sift through editions and read the dust-jackets and picture books. Libraries are good for this too, if they're big and uncrowded, and there aren't a lot of librarians looking over your shoulder. Same with bookshops.

And I think that's why I'll sometimes gravitate toward larger stores, or chains: anonymity. It's like being in a large city (which I love, more on that later). The fact that they've seen hundreds like you this week, and you're not odd if you're different. If you make a mess of it in the middle of a big city, no one loses it, because they've seen it all before. If you browse a giant bookstore all day and come out with one volume, you barely get a look. You can sit down in your favorite aisle, on the floor, and close your eyes. No one will bother you. They've seen your kind.

 

That's the kind of space I want to hold for people. Not just for introverts or book-lovers. Not just those who seek anonymity. But for every heart that feels vulnerable to know that within my purview, they have room to be themselves. Being different, odd, flawed, or out of place, is so very human. I want all that I have seen and all those whom I have loved, to teach me to see people where they are, and give them the nod. It's why I read, too: so that my pool of understanding continues to grow beyond borders. Hey there mystery-lover combing the shelves. Hey there beat-boxer on the street. Hey there dreamer watching the stars. Hey list-lover; hey sun-basker. You're here and I'm here and it's okay, it's good.