Surprise, Surprise
On Christmas morning growing up, I would wait patiently for the kids in my neighborhood to emerge from their homes. After an exhausting morning of gift unwrapping - sticky bows still clinging to their Santa-faced pajama pants— we would all play together outside in our rounded cul-de-sac. And while I was never jealous of their new trinkets, there was something I always felt that I was missing. Those gitty, Polaroid-image, jaw-dropping surprises that Christmas morning brings. The Hallmark movie, present-opening moments that crippling financial debt is made of. Oh, yes, the American dream…
You see, the first night of Hanukkah typically falls on a random weekday school night— well before Christmas. Making any big surprises already days or weeks old by the time December 25th rolls around. But if we're honest, Jews aren't really the "surprise-ey" type. The only real wonder in our holiday calendar is the roll-of-the-dice when the High Holidays will show up. August? October? Who knows? No, being Jewish alone has held enough surprises for our people throughout history. We're a predictable bunch. And for good reasons. This is precisely why 8-year-old me suggested to my father a sensible solution to join in the festive wonderment of Christmas morning.
I explained that I would light the candles and go through the motions but would forgo any Hanukkah gift unwrapping until Christmas morning. And, like the endlessly patient man he is (I take some credit for this disposition) he offered his own solution. "How about you'll get nothing. For either holiday. And that'll be the end of it. "
I could audibly discern that this wasn't a battle I was going to win. Now, I won't bog you down with the details of my youthful reasoning skills (or the few that had). But deep down, hiding past materialistic urges, there exists another type of gift every child secretly craves. The gift of being surprised. When you're young, there's something unmistakably exhilarating about the sensation of being surprised. Being astounded. Even the most minuscule of surprises are remarkable. A spontaneous trip to McDonald's will literally send children into euphoric ecstasy. But not because of the rubber burger itself. It's the ingredient of extemporaneousness that gives this iconic brand its flavor—the element of surprise. The unexpected. The unanticipated. The shock factor. It's all of those and copious amounts of sugar, of course, that gives the holidays their magic.
Tania Luna, the co-author of "Surprise: Embrace the Unpredictable and Engineer the Unexpected," explains that when people are surprised by something or someone, the human brain goes through what she calls the "surprise sequence."
Freeze: It’s that strong neuro alert telling us there’s something significant about this moment. Our cognitive resources are basically hijacked and pulled into what’s happening. Being surprised actually causes humans to physically freeze for 1/25th of a second.
Find: The surprise then generates curiosity. We get hooked in an attempt to process what is happening.
Shift: “If the surprise is something that forces you to change your perspective then you have to change the way you’ve been looking at things. If I wasn’t expecting you to surprise me or give me a gift, and now I’ve just gotten this pleasant experience, I have to change the way I think about you and maybe even our whole relationship.” When we're surprised, for better or for worse, our emotions intensify up to 400 percent
Share: When we feel the pull to share our surprises with others
As an aside, the whole notion of unwrapping presents in front of others is the most bizarre act of human interaction possible. I find it uncomfortable and awkward. The entire process utterly eludes me. But it's a thing. And everyone loves it. So I play along. This is precisely why, for those who don't enjoy being surprised and possibly too old for oreo milkshakes, there's an even better present that the holidays hold. And it's one that we often give ourselves. The gift of surprising someone else.
The "look on someone's face," while cliche, is very real. Parents know all too well that if they're going to shell out tons of money for something their children will inevitably throw away or get bored of, the experience of watching someone be surprised is well worth the cost. That one took me years to figure out (and a paycheck).
But unfortunately, as the years pass, we become less and less surprised by the world at large. Less enamored by the unexpected. We being noticing the patterns that emerge in human behavior— the hum and drum of the ever-turning turning earth. Like any Hallmark Christmas movie, rom-com, or mediocre action flick, they're predictable. And the worst part is, as we get older, we tend to prefer predictability. Unvaridness. Tedium. Unlike the kinderlach, adults crave repetition. That's why we watch the same movies again and again. Eat the same things over and over. One could say that adults begin to deliberately settle into monotony.
Because the downside of getting older is that the word "surprise" snowballs. It begins absorbing negative connotations. A "grown-up surprise" is really a euphemism for a "costly catastrophe." Just the other day, I was eating hard caramel for dessert and found myself crunching on a cavity filling. So I gifted myself a trip to the dentist. Happy Hanukkah, Aaron, Happy Hanukkah…
But really, all of this adds up to what I believe is something we can take away from each holiday season and the enchantment it stirs in us. That the world truly is an awful place. Sorry. I'm kidding. The world can be an awe-filled place— that surprising others and being surprised is one way to instill the world with astonishment. Curiosity. Amazement. That through the act of surprise, people, in turn, can perform in ways we never expected them to.
“By embracing and engineering surprise, you can make our whole world richer. You can inspire wonder, connection, vulnerability, growth, and creativity.”