It’s Christmas time again, bringing joy and anger to humans all over. Let’s be straight about this up front; I’m a None who loves Christmas. But lately I’ve soured on much of the gift side of Christmas, opting for more restrained spending. In fact, the general rule is to skip me on gifts and spend it on any kids still around in the family.

I think this comes from a decade of excessive gadget purchasing ending with a head-on crash with the reality of age. For the 2000s I spent a healthy sum on things. I spent money in Target on artsy objects for my home. I got lost in Bed, Bath, and Beyond looking at pizza stones. We bought a sectional from Macys to fit our remodeled living room, but it had to be treated with the newest stain resistant stuff. Then there were the toys; those fabulous toys. I had restraint, sure. I didn’t buy the iPhone at first. I held off on Tivo for a year. Other areas I jumped into the deep end, like networking my house. Walking around with a tablet was a no-brainer for me. I built every PC I owned for ten years and fiddled with virtual worlds long before they were cool.

Like many I grew up poor and over-spent on my first few jobs. Combine it with a fresh marriage and I was off to the races. I loved living in a big city, making good money at a time when people were generally prosperous. We wined and dined ourselves, wiggled into big mortgages, and assured ourselves the big time was still coming.

And then the bottom fell out, leaving many without jobs and the rest heaving in shock at how quickly it all fell away. Sure, it wasn’t like the Depression by any stretch, but it was the only for comparison. During these years I noticed how people did without the luxuries I once showered on myself. I learned at the end of the decade I couldn’t be made happy by things. My life was actually great, but many others suffered. Owning things didn’t bring that happiness. In fact, blind pursuit of material things hampers the ability to be happy. Always wanting more can lead to constant disappointment with the things you have. Happiness cannot occur if you’re always wanting more.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love my gadgets, but when my brother gushes in excitement over what a new thing will do, I don’t feel that old joy. Not because it isn’t interesting, but my head teems with other topics. I write more. I play more music. I’m trying to leave a mark before I go, something I can’t do if I’m caught up in a dopamine induced unboxing coma. And that’s the thing, that thrill of opening gifts. I’ve got it bad for the opening; my mother made a spectacle of Christmas day with an orgy of gifts. Nothing beats wrapping paper rain and ribbon lightning crashing all about the living room, but I’m older now. I can’t recall as a child how many gifts my parents gave each other, but my son sees small, thoughtful gifts. He’ll have a hope to spend thoughtfully rather than profusely.

And so I asked family to stop giving me things, which of course they ignore. But I’m serious. We stress over gift acceptance. We stress over gift cost. Giving is something you do out of joy and consideration. If it were a simple, single gift meant to show love and happiness we’d spend less and enjoy the season more. Now I’d rather you give charity or buy a cow from that catalog. That sort of gift actually means something to me.

I still give gifts during Christmas. It serves many practical and emotional needs and besides. I’m not going be the first one in my family to get actual coal in my stocking. No sir. I’m on the good list…I think.