I remember when I was younger, all I wanted was to be older so I could finally have the freedom to do anything I wanted. I could go play on the swings or stay up late watching TV or swim by myself or any myriad of things. I wanted to be an adult for those freedoms.
While I know that being an adult doesn’t necessarily translate into the word, “freedom” (one word that jumps immediately to mind is actually “responsibilities”), there are certain freedoms I think adults deny themselves. Like, perhaps, the right to be a kid once in a while.
I don’t know when it happened for me. Maybe sometime in elementary school I started to think it was more important to be “cool” and “popular” than playful and silly. But… isn’t playful and silly the basic essence of being a kid? Isn’t that what we strive to recreate in our lives as adults?
I choose to believe in Santa Claus at Christmastime. I choose to love Christmas carols and baking cookies and decorating the tree and the apartment. I choose to cook a fancy dinner on Christmas Day and to spend time with my family, just being. I sing as loudly as I can. I wear aprons and stupid hats. I cheer when asked. I color things and do origami and make colored paper chains. I get my photo taken with Santa. And I love every minute of it.
It’s my way of creating the magic I remember when I was a kid. And I plan to use my adult freedom to keep it going long after Christmas is over. Somehow.