This week I found myself mourning the loss of a much-loved treat, The Cherry Blossom. Hershey’s Canada has decided to stop making them. Those with whom I am connected on social media, know my angst. Last week I made a big deal on Facebook about how I will miss this tasty treat! And I will. However, If I’m honest with myself (and with you) it has been months since I ate a Cherry Blossom, and if I’m REALLY being honest, I would probably reach for a Mars bar or a Snickers bar before grabbing a Cherry Blossom.
So why am I feeling so sad that this treat is being taken away?
Maybe its for nostalgic reasons. Cherry Blossoms are touchstones of my childhood. My parents always put a Cherry Blossom in my stocking at Christmas time. They would often buy me one after a hockey game, which I would devour on the way home, the sticky, cherry filling getting everywhere. They knew my love of cherries and chocolate, so they knew that they couldn’t go wrong with a Cherry Blossom.
The other part of why I am missing them, is that I could always count on them. Whenever I would go into Beckers, or Circle K, or Macs to buy a treat, I knew without a doubt that Cherry Blossoms would be on the shelf. Their unmistakeable yellow cardboard box always seemed to be front and centre. My eyes would be drawn to them, and I would smile as the mere fact of seeing them, would illicit a fond memory. But then my hand would pass over them as it made its way to a chocolate bar that I enjoyed more. I wanted to know that I could have a Cherry Blossom, even if I didn’t choose a Cherry Blossom, if that makes sense.
Perhaps the lesson in all of this is one about familiarity.
Psychologists tell us that there is something called the “mere exposure effect”. It means that we develop a preference for things just because we are familiar with them. We may not like them, and they may not be good for us, but because we recognize them and are comfortable with them, we want them, and we choose them. An example of the “mere exposure effect” can be found in how we decorate our homes. We fill our homes with nostalgic items that may not be functional or productive or even pleasing to the eye, but we keep them because they are familiar. Our decor might make an interior decorator cringe, but for us, everything around us tells our story, and that’s what makes our stuff valuable. Taken to extremes, the “mere exposure effect” could also mean that we end up in relationships with someone (romantic or otherwise) just because we have developed a comfort level with them, and have found security in their familiarity, even as we know they may not be ideal for us. Now you are going to be looking at your partner or friend and wondering, “is this person my Cherry Blossom?”
There is nothing wrong with familiarity. We all need touchstones of permanence in an uncertain and changing world. Perhaps that is why I will miss the Cherry Blossom. Whether or not I wanted to eat it, I wanted it to be there. There is something stabilizing about recognizing that some things will never change. In many ways, familiarity leads to comfort, and comfort leads to peace.
Like it or not, the Cherry Blossom is gone. I have no choice but to accept it. But there are lots of other familiar things that I can hang may hat on; the rising sun, the coming of spring, my morning coffee, the love of my children, the welcoming grooves on my couch, Hockey Night In Canada, my faith, the cheerful hello every morning from my neighbour as she leaves to walk her dog at exactly the moment I leave for work. And so on, and so on, and so on….
I guess I would take issue with Aesop who says, “familiarity breeds contempt”. Perhaps at times it does. But in my experience, familiarity deepens the web of connection, inspires memories, evokes nostalgia, reminds us of where we have been and who we are, and gives us roots that can steady and stabilize us against the unfamiliar winds of change.
