The first time Ama stopped me while I paged through my journal to find a quote I wanted to share, I was surprised. I was pretty confident this would be a therapist-gold quote. Like, she’d hear it and think, “Ah, yes, Laura is so smart. She’s my favorite patient.” Instead, before even hearing the quote, she said, “You’re quoting other people’s stories.” She paused. I glared at her. “What’s your story, Lau-ra?” She asked, emphasizing the last syllable of my name in her beautiful lilt of an accent.
She explained that many people like to bring quotes to therapy, or nowadays, Tik Tok videos. They sound nice in the moment. But most people forget about the quotes they share within a week. The quote may have a lot of wisdom but, “It means nothing if you don’t make it your own.” I didn’t tell her I have an entire Pinterest board of quotes that I’ve never gone back to read again. Or that I keep notes on my phone with my favorite quotes from each book I read. Or that sometimes, instead of actually reading a book, I just go to Goodreads and read the best quotes from the book.
When I shared one of my favorite poems, Welcome to Holland, by Emily Perl Kingsley, with Ama, she recommended I make it my own. So I did.
The North Pole You vow, when you’re a grown up, you’ll go to the North Pole to visit Santa To see the magic of Christmas Town So when you are finally an adult, You call the airline to book tickets But they tell you Christmas Town isn’t real That Santa doesn’t live in the North Pole Hell, he doesn’t even exist. “But,” you say, “Santa came every year when I was a child. He left me gifts and notes reminding me to be good.” The airline lady says, “It wasn’t real. What you thought happened, didn’t. Your memory is all wrong.” She continues, “I can’t book you a trip to see Santa. Santa was a mirage. He will never be real, no matter how hard you wish, But I can book you a trip elsewhere. Yes, this place won’t have mirages to cover up the darkness. And wherever you choose to go, it won’t be perfect. You won’t be able to wear the Christmas-magic goggles that turn everything sparkly Whatever place you choose to go will have prickly parts And you can’t wish them away. There is nothing magical about this new destination." “But,” she says, “it’ll be real. If you accept that you’re never going to meet Santa, that the elves never were real, Then you’ll realize, if you just take one small step at a time, There is so much beauty to explore." You are devastated to learn that this place you dreamt of Is nothing but a figment of your imagination. And the pain of that realization will never go away It will stay with you no matter how old you get, no matter how many breathtaking places you see, you will never lose your desire to see the North Pole And that is okay: This was a dream that kept you alive for so many years But you realize, in order to explore all of the places in the world that actually exist, you have to let go. You have to stop packing your bag with a snowsuit, You have to stop all of your grand plans to make this scheme work You have to acknowledge that Santa was never real: He never could have saved you, or fixed you, or given you the gift that would solve all your problems, “Wherever you choose to go,” she says, "There aren’t really any paths You’re going to have to forge your own Through underbrush, crossing raging rivers, up muddy slopes, The good news is, you don’t have to go there by yourself Find someone whose been there before, A guide And bring shoes. Or hiking boots. The ground can be rocky, and sometimes there is broken glass that is easy to step on and impossible to see. There will be moments when you’ll regret getting on that plane But my love, the places your feet can carry you, They are wild and stunning, You’ll begin to notice glimmers Of sunlight, dancing between leaves You’ll feel the warmth Of dimpled hands around your neck You’ll take a leap, toward the jugular of vulnerability, Joy And you’ll experience life in a way you’ve never experienced it before, because you’ve accepted the new dimension of this reality: Santa isn’t real." But you are. You always were. “Sweet girl,” this wise airline lady says, “there are so many places you can go.” So you grab your boots, and get on a plane.
