Do you remember the moment you found out Santa wasn’t real? Do you remember feeling betrayed, and incredulous that your parents would lie to you so confidently? I do. Because of that memory, I knew I would never tell my kids about the jolly bearded man who brings presents on Christmas Eve. Granted, sometimes I wish I didn’t have to lecture my son about not telling his friends the truth, and for a while, I did feel a little sad about not going through the ritual of writing letters filled with wishes.
Until one day, it hit me…
My son was 2 years old, and we were driving to Gymboree. Days spent with small children are rarely quiet, but the drive was about 15 minutes long, giving me a rare moment of peace to think. We were approaching the end of the year, and like every year, I began to think about my vision board.
What would I have on it? I remembered the vision board from the year prior. I had glued an image of a forest from the Pacific Northwest, where I wanted to move after 8 years spent in the Midwest. I had taped a print out of a 6-figure dollar bill, for abundance, and a photo of our wedding to strengthen my relationship with my husband. I also had photos of fresh juices, because I longed for them after a year raising a fussy baby who did not give me much free time in the kitchen.
All of it had come true within the next year, and now, it was time to think of goals and desires for the new year. And that’s when I realized it… I was writing a letter to Santa! Except Santa was the Universe, and I actually did believe in what I was doing. I believe in the Law of Attraction, according to which having clear goals and desires helps us notice the opportunities around us, and these opportunities will give us what we want the most in life.
Just like that, I had solved my problem with Santa, and the whole magical aspect of Christmas. And I didn’t have to lie to my boy, either.
My son is older now. He and his younger brother really aren’t into sitting down, playing with stickers, or cutting up magazines. They much prefer to run with other kids, go down slides, and splash in puddles. That’s fine. That’s what they want out of life, and that’s what they’re getting. Honestly, I don’t think they’d know what to ask Santa even it was something we did.
But, they do have desires, like everyone else. So, when they wish it didn’t rain, we visualize a beautiful sunny weather. What would we do in it? Go down dry slides at the playground? Go to storytime in the forest without worrying about the baby getting muddy? More often than not, the skies clear up. If we wish for quiet time together, I ask my oldest to visualize himself being quiet while I put his brother down for a nap. As he sits on the couch without making a sound, he can imagine me getting out of the bedroom, having succeeded — I’m now all his for an hour. It always works.
No, my children don’t believe in Santa, but they see magic all around them. The little brother growing in mama’s belly, the changing of the seasons, friends gathering around a Thanksgiving feast, loving grandparents traveling from far away to see them. And yes, they do have wishes and desires.
Just like their friends who write letters at Christmas time, they also know to ask for them to come true. But instead, they send letters to the Universe.