Weight and Wonder
and why I don't believe in Santa Clause
(Hey, look I made an audio version of this post for those of you who prefer to listen. Let me know what you think.)
I never did the Santa thing with my two kids.
Honestly, this wasn’t a form of post traumatic Catholic upbringing rebellion. I simply didn’t want to lie to my kids. I realize this is a controversial statement. Most parents don’t think of it as lying to their kids when they put out the cookies and milk; sit them on a stranger’s fat red lap or all the other actions they engage in to perpetuate the Santa myth. That said if someone did this to us or god forbid moved an elf around our house every night, we’d either be terrified; think we were losing our minds or be convinced that someone was deceiving us.
For me, I wanted my kids not only to trust me but also to find magic and joy in the real world not just in a manufactured hoax that would then shatter once they were old enough to see through the improbabilities.
I tried to show them the magic of the world as we hunted for mushrooms in deep mossy woods; when we looked in tide pools at the beach near our home; in the chickens, donkeys, ferrets, dogs and cats that shared our home over the years. We also travelled… a lot. They have been to 27 countries and 19 states. I am not rich I just have unconventional priorities.
For me travel, has always had the magical quality of turning the mundane into the extraordinary. While at home grocery shopping is a necessary chore – in a foreign country it’s a language lesson and a treasure hunt all rolled into one. When I lived in Indonesia with the kids for three years, there were so many daily wonders: Duck herders; a man that walked his stud pig down the road for its daily “liaison”; and one of my all-time favorites the Ogoh Ogoh evening that marks the start of the Nyepi holy day. Go look it up. It is pure delight.
Perhaps that is why I miss the parenting years so much. When we built forts together or had dance parties or swung on ropes at the swimming hole my inner child got the childhood she wanted but never had. A childhood with fun and silliness and getting dirty and lots of hugs thrown in. This does not mean I was a perfect mom. Far from it. And despite my best intentions in the background lurked the specter of addiction, mental illness and walking on eggshells from my marriage that uncannily replicated the childhood I did have. It’s strange isn’t it. How despite our best efforts we subconsciously recreate what is familiar from our past in our present day.
And so there it was for my kids – much sooner than I would have wanted for them they were confronted with both the weight and the wonder of life. Author Nate Staniforth claims that the passage from childhood to adulthood is marked by the weight of the world overcoming the wonder of the world.
That feels profoundly true. I believe kids today call it adulting and they are not wrong in thinking that it’s kind of a bummer. Perhaps that is why every culture has a ceremony of sorts Sweet 16; Quinceanera, Bat Mitzvah, Confirmation to help mark and ease the passage into the weight of adulthood. It’s as if society knows life’s a bummer but here kid we’ll throw you one last party.
Hopefully the story doesn’t stop here. Staniforth who by the way is a professional magician suggests that we have to grow up twice. That if the “triumph of weight over wonder marks the passage into adulthood, the second is a rediscovery of wonder despite sickness, evil, fear, sadness suffering – despite everything1.”
If the “triumph of weight over wonder marks the passage into adulthood, the second is a rediscovery of wonder despite sickness, evil, fear, sadness suffering – despite everything.”
Wow! In one line he gave a name to the deep essence of my midlife crisis. How after feeling like a veritable Weeble Wobble – after business failings and divorce; after mornings where my lungs struggle to breathe; after betrayals by friends and family; in short what has felt like years of “taking arms against the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” can I reclaim wonder and perhaps even faith in life again.
That is what brought me to Portugal. That is why I am sitting in the doldrums. I don’t want the weight to win.
As Staniforth says, “this second passage doesn’t happen on its own. It’s a choice, not an inevitability. It’s something you have to go out to find, value and protect.”
Personally, I can’t imagine anything more important.
I do know this: if I find it, if I can reclaim my wonder, it has the promise of a depth and joy that far surpasses the naivete of childhood. It won’t be couched in a lie that life is easy and presents magically appear overnight. It won’t come from ignoring the sorrows of the world but instead from meeting life on life’s terms and choosing to love and marvel in it all the same.
… and it’s a choice!
Here Is Real Magic: A Magician's Search for Wonder in the Modern World Nate Staniforth 2018.
Yes, yes, yes, yes! Bring on the rebirth of wonder! It is so sweet to hear about the charming seasons of your kids childhood. There are so many poignant, beautiful, and wise things here. This is sturdy hope to reference in future days!
Love the audio version! I listened as I read and it helped make the words come alive.
I think you have the answer that you seek. Whether you know it or not, that second passage is entirely within your grasp. In fact, I sense that you already know this and are well on your way to achieving it. Perhaps you just have to realize that you just haven't put a name to the recognition yet....