This holiday season, SLO retiree is asking for the gift of ‘Christmas presence’

You know what I want for Christmas this year? Lots and lots of presence.

This holiday season, I’m asking loved ones and friends to pass on giving me anything that comes in a box and to instead give me what I crave most — their time.

Presence is the undivided attention we pay to another person. We make a commitment to be available, to be here, now for each other.

This means minimal distractions or interruptions. Cell phones are set to silent, and texts are momentarily left unanswered.

The moment is reserved just for us and deserves our complete focus.

When we’re present for another person we show firsthand how much we care for them. Our attention says, “You’re tops on my to-do list.”

Eye contact demonstrates interest. Listening indicates that we value their thoughts and ideas.

Unfortunately, we often say just the opposite. Our behavior tells loved ones, “You’re less important than this latest text message.”

“Sure, I’ll give you a call,” we might say. “But I’ll do so while I’m checking out at Costco.”

The result of our interruption-laden lifestyle is that our relationships are diminished.

The very people we turn to most for emotional support and nurturing are the ones we cram in between appointments or overlay with a workout on the treadmill.

Interactions are inherently dissatisfying for both parties. Recipients feel tossed out with the trash.

The inattentive habit has become so normalized it no longer seems out of place. It’s simply the way things are done.

Ask yourself: Should your surgeon check his voicemail while removing your appendix? Or your pilot take a selfie while landing your plane? I don’t think so.

Then why would we shortchange those we love most by casting their psychological well-being aside?

The go-to excuse is that we’re too busy. We can’t possibly make time to pay a visit to a neighbor or sit with a relative.

We all know that’s a paltry defense. Rather, attention is something we can turn on or off.

When the doctor finally calls with the results of our latest scan, we’re glued to her every word.

Lack of presence is a choice we make daily. So we can just as easily opt for something new.

That’s why I’m asking those in my gift-giving universe to grant me a few moments of their time.

The commitment needn’t be staggering. It could be a short chat on the telephone, a walk on a local trail or a glass of wine by the fire. Or it could be more elaborate, like tickets to the theater or a weekend getaway at a spa.

The event is primarily a vehicle for emotional bonding.

While we’re together, let’s focus on each other. I want to hear about your latest exploits. Hopefully, you’ll be interested in mine.

The conversation might eventually turn to politics, new books or who knows what. We’ll do our darnedest to avoid interruptions.

I know I’ll be blessed by our time together. I wager that you’ll feel the same.

The very best gift is the gift of ourselves. That’s the true joy of Christmas presence.