Desperate for attention, merchants have pushed the Christmas shopping season envelope earlier yet again this year. Barely able to wait for Halloween to finish, some retailers try to drum up the intensity of the shopping season ASAP. But this can backfire: merchants seem like a blind date too eager to pass up the preliminaries of courtship: instead of providing more excitement, they seem cheap and tawdry. Especially when we know they'll be more desparate the closer we get.

At the same time, we read about increasing numbers of personal bankruptcies, that 1/5 of US children live in poverty. We read stats that tell us more people go to the mall than to church. We can see that advertising is 2/3 of newspapers and half the mail.

We also have learned that there are few things more disappointing than the anti-climax of the immediate-post-Christmas crash: the sweets, stimulants, and our patience wear off or wear thin. We can become reduced to putting all our energy in trying to avoid yelling at our loved ones or thinking about our January MasterCard bill.

Bah! Humbug! Who needs it? But I am reminded of the Grinch of Dr. Seuss. Having stolen the essence of Christmas from all the Whos in Whoville, he awaits their mournful cries of lamentation. But even little Cindy Lou Who (who was no more than two), knew more about Christmas than the Grinch. It was not the pudding or roast beast. It was not the toys and novel knick knacks which defined Christmas, but the simpler, more difficult things which required other people and not objects. Singing, holding hands, taking comfort that the light will return after the current darkness– these things defined the season.

Don't get me wrong– I'm not against presents or even consumerism (in right measure). I just want more than buying and giving and receiving and feeling fat after dinner. I want some risk-taking and creativity in making presents, in being present. I want to dare to "begin again in love" with extended family members I do not easily get along with.

I want to spend a little more time singing and a little less time paging through catalogs. I'd like a little more fireside conversation and a little less waiting in line at the mall. I'd like a little more reflection on the meaning of he season (darkness to light of the winter solstice, the courage of the Maccabees, the birth of the Christ child) and a little less on "Sony or Sega, Barbie or Elmo."

May you find and share your own cure for affluenza this month.

– Daniel