—the article contributed by The Professor™—
I have a
number of identifying characteristics that let me identify parents who “get it”
and distinguish them from those who “don’t get it.” People who don’t get it let their children win
games, for example; they actually TRY to provide their children with the latest
in fashionable clothing; they feel obligated to pick up their children from
school if it is raining; they make extensive use of their cell phone “family
plan.” And parents who don’t get it are
also “honest” about Santa Claus, earnestly discussing the “truth” of the matter
with their youngsters at the earliest sign of a question. The thinking is: “if
we lie to our child about Santa Claus, how will they ever trust us to tell the
truth about other matters?” It sounds
fine, but the ramifications of such thinking are significant indeed.
Children
need Santa Claus; for that matter, we ALL need Santa Claus.
Children
need Santa Claus not because he is real, but precisely because he is so extraordinarily, gloriously
false—fake, even. Can there be anything
more unbelievable than a fat guy who lives at the North Pole and who builds
toys with the help of an army of midget manufacturers? But it is this sublime subterfuge that makes
Santa such an essential element of growing up.
A belief in
Santa is often the first firm belief that a child has in something that is
clearly destined to disappoint. The realization that “there is no Santa” is one
of the first steps on the maturational ladder that eventually leads to a fully
realized, adult understanding of the nature of being. The pattern is this: a child believes
fervently that something is true (in this case, Santa); the child learns that
what he has been told is not “true” (ie: there is no Santa); the child grows up
to realize —despite their disappointment regarding the absence of an actual,
factual Santa Claus—that the poetic, “spiritual” nature of Santa is indeed a
real, almost palpable virtue, without which life would be much less rich.
Establishing
this pattern is of the utmost importance.
Pity the poor individual who grows up believing that that there is no
value in the non-factual, and that anything not literal should be rejected out
of hand. Children, with the help of tolerant
and enlightened parents, grow up believing in Santa Claus. About 8 or 9 years of age, usually, they
realize that Santa does not exist in a literal sense. Big disappointment follows instantly.
Essentially,
it is a preview of many of the disappointments eventually faced by any thinking
person growing up in our world of facts, names and dates. But gradually the
disappointment then leads to something even better. Something happens as our child grows up and
matures: he realizes that there really IS a Santa Claus. People really DO treat each other better at
the holidays; people really DO look for ways to reach out to those they
otherwise would ignore; people really DO pay more attention to the ideal of
“peace on earth, good will toward men.” (Even if it is often just for a few
weeks.)
In other
words, the fully mature child realizes that the disappointment of losing Santa
Claus can be overcome by a belief in a poetic Santa: the embodiment of a season
filled with inexplicable beauty and generosity. The mature “child” looks around
at the holiday season and knows—beyond doubt—that something special happens
that is beyond the realm of literal explanation, but which is still significant and worthy of
celebrating. In other words: the child
has grown up.
This
pattern is also seen in other crucial developmental phases as children mature
into full adults
One is
sport. Many children grow up encouraged
by various parties to think of athletic success as something guaranteed to
bring a future of amazing achievement and possible material wealth. It usually doesn’t work out that way, and
many young people are left with a sense that the “sports” Santa just didn’t
bring them the right presents (they didn’t get that scholarship they deserved.)
The ex-high
school athlete who can’t get over this disappointment and grow up is an
archetype that anyone can recognize. The
more sensible young athlete who accepts the disappointment and grows up
develops the understanding that sport—for all its wonderful intensity—isn’t the
most important thing in the universe.
The transition
between thinking sport is all and realizing that it is just one factor in a
life well led is a lengthy one for many of us to make (some never do). And for
those that do accept the disappointment of failure in sport, some utterly
reject all competition as a deceiving fraud, a holy grail that promised more
than it delivered. Not everyone is able
to complete the journey and find the symbolic “santa” of sports—the ideal of
investing your all in something beyond yourself. People who get it as regards the poetic truth of
Santa Claus may also get it when it
comes to understanding that sport has a value beyond fame, fortune and glory.
It is an organized, artificial mechanism by which your best is drawn from you.
And then
there is yet another type of “santa” cycle—your relationship with parents. Many children grow up thinking of their
parents as something nearly unreal and certainly idealistic. And much like the realization that there is
no Santa, the realization that your parents are just people comes as a
startling shock to many maturing children.
Recognizing
that parents are just ordinary shmucks hits the child with a comparable
disappointment, but a much more deep-seated unease. It is one of the
fundamental turning points in growing into a fully mature adult. It is only much later (in many cases, only
after we have our own children) that you realize that parents are indeed extraordinary—almost
as extraordinary as you originally thought.
The fully mature person gets beyond the startling realization that
parents are only people, and comes to see that parents are extraordinary in
their distinctive ability to extend a love that will never be matched by anyone
else.
And
finally, there is the “granddaddy of them all” as far as THE Santa cycle is
concerned: God.
Many of us
geezers grew up in a religious environment that included personified deities
and literally presented doctrines that were comforting in their clarity,
simplicity and definition. Many of us
took this at face value and were then disappointed when confronted with
evidence that much of this was just so much silliness, overstatement or—at
worst—outright blatant manipulation. But
those who grow to religious maturity realize that there is also an intangible,
interpretive side to religious thought that contains poetic truth allowing for
a much more fulsome and personal engagement with issues of transcendence.
The word
“God” may always come with an abundance of baggage, and may seem a bit
overstated, but as an evocation of an order of things characterizing the
universe we want to be a part of, it can be of occasional and unique use. Most people don’t get angry when they see a
fake Santa helping to sell goods in a shopping mall. They’ve grown up and view such pretence with
an appreciation of the intangible, long-term values that are being communicated
(despite the cynical setting). Many
people—helped by the Santa cycle—are able to get beyond the cynical,
manipulative use of “God” that is so often observed and appreciate how a
sophisticated religious vocabulary can help when facing events in life for
which there are no other words.
Having
reached a certain point in life, geezers are not fooled by first impressions. They believe that the most important things
are expressed poetically and have symbolic, not literal, truth. They are skeptical
of dogma, but realize that firm belief is just a way-station on the road to a
more mature, enlightened understanding.
Geezers
believe in Santa.
