First, it comes in this lovely little paper bag. I don’t really need it, because I usually come prepared carrying with me a reusable bag I can put just about anything in. But since it’s such a lovely little bag, I’ll take it the way it is. I admire the bag for a moment, and off it goes.
But even without the bag, it is wearing a pretty wrapping paper. I don’t really like it, because I usually get frustrated trying to unwrap without ripping but never succeeding. But since it’s such a pretty wrapping paper, I’ll take it the way it is. I appreciate the wrapping paper for the duration I struggle to unwrap, and off it goes.
But even without the bag and the wrapping paper, it is in a simple yet beautifully painted box. I don’t really want it, because it takes up space whether I decide to keep it in my room or throw it in the trash. But since it’s such a beautiful box, I’ll take it the way it is. I relish the box from all angles, and off it goes.
But even without the bag and the wrapping paper and the box, it is sitting on fluffy cushions. I don’t really care for them, because they’re just fillers of the void and nothing more. But since they’re there to serve a purpose of keeping what’s inside in place, I’ll take them the way they are. I thank the cushions for a job well done, and off they go.
But even without the bag and the wrapping paper and the box and the cushions, it is enveloped individually in cellophane. I don’t really enjoy them, because it can sometimes get quite cumbersome to open them. But since they do have some useful information on them, I’ll take them the way they are. I study the envelopes for additional knowledge, and off they go.
And now without the bag and the wrapping paper and the box and the cushions and the envelopes, it is finally revealed, exposed, bare. Its true self, at last!
What am I going on and on about, you ask? Here is the answer – a little present I received over the weekend.
Wafer filled with sweetened red beans and sticky rice, and a hint of cherry blossom scent… yum!
What a wonderful treat it was… an absolute delight, both taste-wise and aesthetically. I ate it all up in no time.
Maybe I would have thought it was wonderful and delightful even if it presented itself to me all by itself.
But maybe I actually did not mind so much going through all the trouble to remove the wrappings one by one to finally get to its true self.
Maybe it is because unwrapping is part of the present… gifts never come bare, right?
Then, maybe wrappings are signs that what is underneath them is really a present for you.
If I am reluctant to unwrap, I will never find out what could be wonderful and delightful to me, not to mention missing out on all the build-up of excitement I could be experiencing in the course of unwrapping.
I think I will try not to be too overwhelmed or intimidated the next time I come across excessive packaging, whether things, situations, or people – I know I can make them become wonderful and delightful presents to me if I only take the time to unwrap them.