Presents
Yes, it’s that time. Each morning, I can hear whispers and the tip-tapping of tiny feet as my children excitedly retrieve their chocolates from their advent calendars. Perhaps you and yours have a snazzy advent calendar…one full of luxury beauty items, or lego pieces, gourmet teabags, or stationery. When we peep inside each little package or behind each little door, what is it we’re hoping for? Among other things, to me, Advent suggests a daily ritual and revival of that most exciting of emotions - anticipation.
It might be my favourite feeling of all the feelings. The one that gets me out of bed in the morning. Future-oriented, but not dreadful; hope-filled, looking ahead to what might be. The potential of it all. The thrill of discovery. Feeling on the cusp of something amazing, looking towards the horizon. Innovating, creating, and pushing onward. A relishing of all that seems possible and as yet unwritten. It’s the feeling I long for when I read a book - the thrill of the chase, the possibility of love. It’s why I turn the page. However, the original meaning of anticipation surprised me.
In The Book of Human Emotions, cultural historian Tiffany Watt Smith (who is also on Substack) describes anticipation beautifully as “a tiny theft of pleasure” or a “reckless spending of delights not yet owned”.1 I had no idea until reading Tiffany’s book that historically, anticipation meant “a sum of money spent before it was earned” (like “an early payout on the dowry” or “an advance on next week’s wages”). This is an emotion, she writes, that is “firmly embedded in the history of economics and exchange”.
There is a tipping point at which hope-filled joy can become risky speculation. The pressure for us to borrow money to make Christmas a good one, or the uncertainty of getting or giving the right gift.
The language of exchange raises crucial personal or philosophical questions, too…