the tao of jaklumen

the path of the sage must become the path of the hero


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To those who tell the Santa story: We Are All Santa

As seen at the Good Men Project, but with some extra edits for the tao of jaklumen

Is there a Santa Claus? Is Santa real?

I have read differing opinions, not just from parents, but individuals in other family roles, or people just caring for children. They seemed to be torn between rational practicality of adulthood and the seemingly magical faith of childhood: that either they were lying to children, or they were destroying time-honored tradition.

First of all, I think we need to give children more credit. A lot more credit. I speak from my memories as a child, my memories as a parent, and as a man who put on the red suit twice to portray the mythical figure himself.

It’s quite possible to do both.

Children are clever. I remember figuring things out as a child, and I’ve noticed many children, including my own, are very quick to observe. I could remember my parents being incredibly exasperated that the oldest of my three younger sisters and I would repeatedly try to sneak around and figure out what was going on, whether they were filling stockings, or whether a friend of the family was portraying Santa at home or at church.

But I got an idea that Santa was a role in school, being taught the “Secret Santa” tradition one year. I learned that the gift exchange was a way to bond as a friend to a classmate. Sure, we all had to come up with devious schemes to avoid blowing the surprise. But I don’t think any of us saw it as silly superstition or unacceptable deception.

Long before my wife and I decided to answer our children’s questions as honestly and appropriately as we could, I remember my sister telling me that she’d asked my maternal grandmother about Santa, and that Grandma had revealed everything. It wasn’t too long after that that my parents decided to recruit me, at least, to the tradition. I think they saw it as convenient to feed a young hungry teenager (who was delivering a paper route) some of the treats that my two younger sisters left for Santa. It was incredibly meaningful, however. I secretly kept a card they had left for many, many years. To this day, I am not certain they know I still have the card.

As I was wrapping up my post-secondary schooling, I took employment working as a mall Santa. People of all ages, boys and girls, and grown women, sat on my lap and told me about their wishes (in English and Spanish) for Christmas. They came from all sorts of different backgrounds, but their participation in the tradition seemed honest and sincere. The second time I worked the gig, an older gentleman who had worked previously told me about his experience. I told him that I took the role very seriously. I’d done character work (as a company mascot) before, but this was much more personal.

Dec31_29

This was at a friend’s house– we were technically homeless at the time.

I had applied sending a picture of my infant daughter sleeping on my chest. The employer decided to take a few more pictures of me with my wife, and with my daughter, to send to corporate. At this time, my daughter was only about a year or two old, an age that I saw can be very difficult for children. I’d seen far too many times that parents would try to force the situation to get a Christmas photo, and I became very staunchly opposed to that. We quickly found that my daughter was quite comfortable sitting with me. For quite a few years, I was the only Santa she had sat with or would sit for.

As I said before, children are quick to observe. I joke to other adults that I’m not the parent who brags about their children’s accomplishments; I’m the parent who hangs his head and laments that his children are too smart for their own good. Julie and I discovered that we were going to need to give more of the story to our daughter pretty fast. She wanted to know, and she wasn’t going to accept friends or family pretending to be Santa anymore. One Christmas Eve, she just wouldn’t go to sleep without seeing Santa (i.e. meet him)– neither my father-in-law nor a recorded message was going to provide a solution. While we had discussed whether or not to deploy the myth before we had children, she decided we’d practice the tradition, and I of course, accepted. But I could see that it wasn’t going to last too much longer. So we dug out the photo and we explained that the person dressed as Santa was me– so, quite literally, Santa was her father.

This is the picture in question.  Smarty-pants here later figured out too much about the Santa myth, so we used it to reveal the reality of it all.

This is the picture in question. Smarty-pants here later figured out too much about the Santa myth, so we used it to reveal the reality of it all.

It was then that I learned Julie had revealed to her that she was the Tooth Fairy, so this revelation dovetailed quite closely with that one. Julie believes quite firmly that when children ask a question, they deserve an answer that is honest and appropriate to their understanding.

I couldn’t help but feel all fuzzy inside when I explained to her that for a time, I was the only Santa she’d sit for. She accepted it all with grace and love, and she quickly agreed to join us in practicing the tradition for her little brother, as well as a promise not to spoil the magic for others. She doesn’t need magic, though– I was so pleased to let her know that Santa is another expression of our love for her. When I talked with her recently, she said she realized it was me, because something was different. Clever girl.

So again, Santa for our family is not really that much different from the gift exchanges someone would participate in at school, work, or church. And when I think I’ve met more men that have donned the red suit as I have, and talked to them about their experience, I say with conviction that none of them believe they are teaching children a superstition or a lie. And for one, his daughter knows exactly what her father does, and is quick to remind me not to spoil the surprise for younger children in our church congregation.

We are all Santa. Some of us have taken that more closely than others, but we know the meaning is the same.

Do you celebrate a tradition of gift giving this season?  (Hint: it doesn’t have to be Santa-related, or specifically tied to Nikolaos of Myra.)  Please let me know in the comments.  Links to blog posts are welcome!

If you haven’t already, please also read Is Santa Real?, my wife Cimmorene’s response to this article, at The Dragon’s Lair


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From the archive: Santa’s been here!

As I was sifting through the LiveJournal archives, I found this post from December 25, 2005.  There will be more photos in four days from now, so I decided to share it today.

Since there is no way to import posts to WordPress (that I know of), I’ve simply grabbed the HTML from the post and copied it here.  Merry Christmas to all my dear readers.

The goodies… look like some have been eaten!

Oh, that’s why.
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Santa’s card:
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Stuffing the stockings:
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Image Hosted by ImageShack.us (Cimmorene was a very good gamer girl)

Tree with pressies:
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Santa himself (wow, he hasn’t looked this young since “The Story of Santa Claus“– you know, that animation special based on Frank L. Baum‘s novel? C’mon people, same folks and same style as with “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer”.
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A Blogger’s Journey: The beginning

I still have trouble believing it.

I think I realized how long it’s been when Aussa prompted comments with a “How long have you been blogging?” question, in one of her posts.

Then I was reading Rara’s blog and saw her mentions of being 29 years old.  Looking back, I slowly realized that I started blogging when I was 29, too.  I had tried to think of what was happy when I was 29.  I thought of my daughter, when she was born, but that was a year earlier.  She brought such joy, but 2003, the year I began blogging, was filled with sadness and sorrow.

 

I created my account at LiveJournal on the 12th of November, 2003.  My first public post was the next day, with this quiz meme (reconstructed as the original code has been taken down):

You are Morpheus, from “The Matrix.” You have strong faith in yourself and those around you. A true leader, you are relentless in your pursuit.

It was a time of fluff– lots of users did these quizzes, posting the result.  Although some users wrote about their lives in the old journal/diary style that was common for the time, others were writing in the same style, for fictional characters.  I’d been drawn into LiveJournal by LARPers (Live Action RolePlayers).  The organization they were part of was known as the Camarilla (at that time), and so users were writing diaries as development for their characters– usually vampires and mages, for a horror-based setting.

I will save tales of woe concerning them for another time.  Know simply this, dear readers, was that so very many of them blurred the line between fantasy melodramatics and drama in their own personal lives.  And it brought out some of the worst in me.  I’d already been with them for about three years, if I remember right.

Anyways, I continued on with the meme fluff at LiveJournal until November 18th:

I got a job for the holidays! It’s work with Noerr Programs (www.noerrprograms.com) working as a Santa at the Columbia Center Mall. It’s full-time hours, Monday-Thursday, 10-8, $10/hour. My final interview included two hours on the floor playing the actual role and I got a photo of my daughter on my lap, which was actually sent to the regional manager, which I’m sure sealed the deal. I’m very excited.

Not to mention I can get off the dole for December and be rid of my case manager at DSHS for a little while…

This is the picture in question.  Smarty-pants here later figured out too much about the Santa myth, so we used it to reveal the reality of it all.

This is the picture in question. Smarty-pants here later figured out too much about the Santa myth, so we used it to reveal the reality of it all.

This was the first time I gave a hint to the ugly reality of that year.  The year previous, we had been homeless and bankrupt, and so we had stayed with a friend, whose marriage was ending while we were there.  We had moved to a fourplex, which brought horrors detailed in the 5 Truths, 1 Lie meme.  Both Cimmy and I were in welfare-to-work, because we were valiantly trying to be self-sufficient.  This dragged on until Cimmy had a nervous breakdown in the middle of the DSHS office, and Rhenda Stewart (the “battleaxe” of a case manager I mentioned in the quote) wormed it out of me that I was on psychiatric medicines, and then they pushed us to apply for Social Security disability benefits.

I had worked as a mall Santa before, but I didn’t get the job that year.  I had been walking the mall and an employee at the Pepperidge Farm kiosk tried to give me a sample, and I just couldn’t manage with that fake beard.  Noerr normally insists Santas have real beards, bleached white, but I did not have a long enough, full enough beard at that time.  This was my post on December 5:

Well, I found out the Santa gig won’t pan out… I got grounded because of a background check, and they just kept me hanging forever. I had to play phone tag between my case manager and the set until I finally found out the background check would take too long (and my case manager called me to tell me this… no, my employer couldn’t tell me that. Meanwhile, I was five days without money). I wish they would have just been straight with me. I had to reapply for benefits today, and the whole thing just rather cheesed me off.

By the way, Princess was only a year old in that photo.  Cimmy was worried she might freak out, as young children that age sometimes do, but she was fairly calm and serene.  She told me today that she knew it was me with my kind, smiling eyes.  (Tell me, how many of you are saying “Awww…” right now?)

Now what does this have to with the Hero’s Journey?  Well, this time I started blogging– I was already past The Ordinary World (outer), and the Limited Awareness of the Problem (inner).  This was well into the Call to Adventure, with its increased awareness of the need for change, but also the Refusal of the Call, with fear and resistance to that change.

Inner steps: 2. Increased awareness of need for change 3. Fear; Resistance to Change (from Christopher Vogler)

Inner steps:
2. Increased awareness of need for change
3. Fear; Resistance to Change
(from Christopher Vogler)

Next post in the series: A 10-year blogging journey: The hidden beginning


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Santa Unmasked.

For a proper introduction, you need to read What Do You Have To Say? – Do You Believe?

Quick excerpt for the lazy:

I patiently await the day when Cimmy and I decide to reveal the secret and I can say, “Yes, my daughter, *I* was Santa Claus.”

Cimmy and I actually talked about this before, and at some length.  Christmas Eve we decided to spring it– mostly because my daughter is pretty intellectually sharp for her age, and because she just wouldn’t go to sleep without seeing Santa (i.e. meet him)– neither my father-in-law nor a recorded message was going to provide a solution.

I knew Cimmy wasn’t going to like it too much– while we had discussed whether or not to deploy the myth before we had children, she decided we’d practice the tradition, and I of course, accepted.  But I could see that it wasn’t going to last too much longer.

So we dug out the picture and we explained that the person dressed as Santa was me– for quite literally, it was.

This is the picture in question.  Smarty-pants here later figured out too much about the Santa myth, so we used it to reveal the reality of it all.

This is the picture in question. Smarty-pants here later figured out too much about the Santa myth, so we used it to reveal the reality of it all.

It was then that I learned she already knew about the Tooth Fairy.  Apparently, Cimmy decided to spill the beans already on that one.  (I’m sure she will comment with what she is telling me right now, so you all understand where she’s coming from.)

While I didn’t utter the quote, I couldn’t help but feel all fuzzy inside when I explained to her that for a time, I was the only Santa she’d sit for.  What a wonderful little girl.  She accepted it all with grace and love, and she understands not to spoil the magic for others.  She doesn’t need magic, though– I was so pleased to let her know that Santa is another expression of our love for her.

[EDIT December 2nd, 2014: When I talked with her recently, she said she realized it was me, because something was different.  Clever girl.]