Show notes
I’m 54 Years Old, and I Believe in Santa: A Reflection on Faith, Imagination, and the Spirit of Christmas
At 54, when life yourself tethered to realism, routine, and rationality, I stand unashamed in saying that I believe in Santa. Not as a literal man sliding down chimneys but as a symbol, an idea, and perhaps even something more profound than the myth. Believing in Santa at this stage in life is an act of philosophical defiance—a conscious decision to keep faith in things unseen, embrace wonder, and acknowledge the value of imagination in a world too often consumed by cold facts.
Faith Beyond the Empirical
The modern world urges us to reject what cannot be measured. It insists on what the philosopher Søren Kierkegaard called objectivity—truths dictated by science, reason, and evidence. And yet, I find that some truths transcend the measurable. Believing in Santa, in my mind, falls into the realm of what Kierkegaard called the leap of faith. It’s about holding onto something more than what logic can explain—a belief in kindness, generosity, and joy. It is not about whether Santa Claus exists materialistically but whether we can live as though the principles he represents are real.
Faith in Santa is a deliberate resistance against cynicism, an acknowledgment that the most valuable things in life—love, hope, joy—often elude the rigid structures of reason.
The Necessity of Imagination
As children, we are encouraged to imagine freely and explore worlds where reindeer fly and elves make toys. But as we grow old, imagination often falls by the wayside, crowded out by schedules, responsibilities, and the so-called serious matters of life. Yet imagination, as philosophers like Jean-Paul Sartre noted, is not a childish indulgence—it is an essential part of our freedom. Imagination allows us to conceive of what does not yet exist, dream of worlds better than our own, and engage with life's infinite possibilities.
Believing in Santa, even at 54, is my way of keeping that imaginative spark alive. It’s a reminder that life can be more than just predictable outcomes and measurable gains. It’s permission to dream, even as we face the sometimes harsh realities of the world. Imagination is not escapism—it’s a form of resistance, a way to say that the magic of life remains, even in adulthood.
Santa as a Metaphor for Kindness
Santa embodies the idea that goodness does not need an audience. He works in secret, expecting no recognition or reward. In this way, Santa reflects Immanuel Kant’s notion of goodwill, where actions are judged not by their outcomes but by the purity of intention behind them. Santa’s real or symbolic gifts remind us that kindness has intrinsic value, regardless of whether it is acknowledged.
Believing in Santa means believing that altruism, though often hidden, is still possible. It is an invitation to embrace what Martin Heidegger might call being-for-others, a way of being that considers the welfare of others as inherently tied to our own. In a world where self-interest often dominates, Santa’s spirit reminds us that there is still room for selflessness and that joy multiplies when shared.
Christmas and the Time to Be Childlike Again
There is a distinction between being childish and being childlike. The former implies immaturity, while the latter suggests an openness to wonder and delight. At its core, Christmas invites us to rediscover that childlike spirit—a time to believe in miracles, however small, and to allow ourselves to be moved by beauty and generosity. As C.S. Lewis said, "When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of being childish."
At 54, believing in Santa means embracing that childlike sense of joy without apology. It means not being afraid to celebrate, to give without expecting anything in return, and to see magic in the mundane. It’s a reminder that some of the most profound experiences in life—laughter, love, connection—require us to let go of our guarded selves and allow joy to seep in.
The Spirit of Christmas: A Philosophy of Hope
Ultimately, my belief in Santa is not about the man in the red suit. It is about hope. The hope that light can be found even in the darkest moments. Christmas, with all its stories and symbols, is a reminder that joy is possible, even when life feels heavy. It is a call to believe in things that cannot be proven but can be felt—a nudge to live as though the world is still filled with wonder.
To believe in Santa at 54 is to resist the temptation to become jaded. It is a conscious choice to say that life, even in its complexity, still holds room for magic. And perhaps that is the real gift of Santa—reminding us, year after year, that joy is not a relic of childhood but something we carry with us, if only we dare to believe.
So yes, at 54, I believe in Santa. And in doing so, I believe in kindness, imagination, generosity, and hope. Life is better when we allow ourselves to be enchanted by it, even if only for a season. And that, to me, is the true spirit of Christmas.
From mine to yours, have a wonderful and blessed Christmas, happy holidays, and a great New Year!
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