Beliefs

Beliefs. We all have them. Even if you say you have no beliefs, that in itself is a belief. You believe that you don't believe.

There are different types of beliefs. For the purposes of this entry, its more like there are different beliefs by ages. Rest easy. I am going to stay away from the belief in God for the time being. That would make an entire post of its own and may be hit upon sometime later on down the line. Besides, I'm not the type to try to convert people or force my beliefs on them. I have my beliefs, you have yours. As long as you respect me and mine, I will do the same for you. I just wanted to talk a little about beliefs in general and how I see them. Maybe you will agree, maybe not. Maybe it will take a look at them in a way you never thought of. Who knows. That being said, here we go...

As a child, I had all the "common" beliefs, at least as I think relates to an average American child born in the mid-1960's. Most of these were learned beliefs from my parents and family. Things like the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Santa Claus. Of course there were others, but those come to mind first and show brightest in my mind. As younger children, we trust our parents and family implicitly. What they tell us is how it is. Period. Being that young we don't know anything other than those people take care of us, feed us, clothe us, teach us, love us... So what they tell us must be true, right? Then we wake up every year to chocolate eggs and candy given to us by a bunny around Easter, and money from a fairy for our teeth as we lose them.

Then there is Santa... This is the one I will tend to center for now. The belief in Santa Claus was/is the ultimate for me. A happy, jolly, nice man living at the North Pole with his wife and an army of elves who make toys and love all children and keep an eye on them all year long. Every Christmas he rewards the ones that are good with presents they write to him and ask for, and the bad ones get sticks and rocks and coal. In my house we set out cookies and milk for Santa to eat and drink (and put out some carrots for his reindeer when we had them, if not I would add a few extra cookies. Reindeer like cookies too, right?). Every year on Christmas Eve we would have family gatherings and eat and drink and be together and laugh and play and tell stories and do all the things that I hold so dear in the deepest parts of myself and my memories. Then, on the morning of the 25th of December I would get up and the cookies and drink would be gone and I would have several new toys and things scattered throughout the living room. I'd been good enough to get rewarded with things I'd asked Santa for in my yearly letter to him. This happened every year without a miss. As I got older I enjoyed the Christmas season. The decorations, the extra laughter and seeing more of the family than what might have been usual, the way many people seemed to be happier and maybe a little more friendly than usual. Hearing "Merry Christmas" as opposed to just "goodbye" when you were leaving someplace. There was even more music around than usual. As I got older I noticed more and more and started adding to what I was able to do during the season, like shopping for presents for others, helping decorate, learning the holiday songs, and licking the bowls for the Christmas goodies that always seemed to be made.

Sidebar here...To this day, I still miss my Grandma's Christmas Cookie Boxes. Every year she would make a foil lined shoe box full of home made Christmas Cookies for each of her four boys and take them to their houses so we could all enjoy them. Several different kinds of cookies, all in the same box. Sugar cookies with all manner of sprinkles, peanut butter cookies, chocolate cookies made with oatmeal, little round ball-shaped cookies, among other types. It was a Christmas tradition that she kept up until she passed away. Ah the memories and the smiles they bring... Ok, sidebar concluded. Thanks for the indulgence there.

When I was five, my sister arrived. That changed my view somewhat. Not majorly, but it did change it. Suddenly there were little baby things around the tree again and my sister was getting a lot of attention. As a 5-year old that had been an only child up until that time, I did not understand, but my parents talked to me about it. They explained that she was a baby and needed more attention from them because she couldn't do anything for herself yet. She would need my help too, they said. I was now a big brother and that meant that I had certain responsibilities. They also explained that Santa would still come every year and that he would bring stuff for us both. That was understandable to my 5-year old skull full of mold-able clay. In fact I tried to help all I could. Whether that was actually a help or not, I never asked. I always hope it helped, even in a very small way. More than helping though, it allowed me to understand more about the belief and how it worked. Plus, as I got older I was starting to question things. How could Santa be at every store at the same time? Why did he sound different every time? Why did I have to keep telling him what I wanted for Christmas? I sent him a letter so he should already know, right? I also was noticing that I was starting to get more things I could actually use and fewer toys and playthings. Clothes, shoes, coats. Things like that. I also was noticing that my folks were getting very little from Santa. I knew they had not been bad, that made me wonder too. Plus I had been hearing rumors at school about this particular belief. So, at some point (the age or time I am not sure of at all), I asked my parents if Santa was real. To this day I can remember what they told me. I was told that if I wanted to believe in Santa I definitely could. It was up to me to believe or not. At that point, my thinking changed. Santa was not a person. Santa was a mindset. It was a way of looking at the world in a more positive way and seeing the good in everything and smiling more and being nicer and decorating and gathering with family and friends and creating memories. It was about making others happy and seeing and feeling smiles and happiness and love. Presents were all well and good and I loved getting them, hell I STILL love it (and I still love to get toys more than anything else, its just my definition of toys has evolved somewhat). To steal a few lines from a movie, it is the one time each year that we are the people we wish we could be all the time.

So do I believe in Santa? Yes I do. I never stopped believing. I believe in what Santa represents and what he means to people and how he and his actions might help others act and interact. Do I believe Santa is a true flesh and blood person? I think that he may have been at one time, but I think he is no longer with us in a physical sense. The same general feeling goes to a large majority of my childhood beliefs. So I still believe, but the belief has changed how it looks from the mind of a young boy to the mind of a 50+ year old man.

By the way, on the chance that Santa or any of the other of my childhood beliefs are actually real, I hope that my belief and the descriptions above is enough. If not, please contact me and I will do all I can to make it right.  ;)

Love, light, and live long and prosper!