Due to an overindulgence in chili dogs (with cheese and onions) Santa’s reindeer are not well and don’t look to be in any shape to fly, especially with their guide, he with nose of cardinal hue, and Vixen passed out drunk. What will Santa do now, now that Christmas Eve is here?
Eventually the tears of Santa Claus stopped flowing. He stood up, looked down at Fred, who appeared suitably remorseful for feeding the reindeer chili dogs, and said, “Well my little elf friend, we’ve got to go figure something out. I need to get the toys delivered.”
They walked back to the main house and sat in the large living room, Santa taking up most of a couch, while Fred hopped up on to a rocking chair. Fred just loved rocking chairs. Very soothing, that rocking motion. But the rocking chair squeaked and really got on the big guys nerves.
“Would you knock off that rocking!” Santa shouted, “I’m trying to think here.”
Just then an apparition manifested itself in the middle of the living room. It was nothing more than a glowing shapeless blob of light at first, but it began to assemble itself and assume shape. It was a reindeer!
For a few moments the reindeer simply stood still while still emitting a faint but ghostly green light. Santa and Fred sat, mouths agape, eyes wide with wonder until Mr. Claus broke the spell. “What in the name of Buddha are you?” he asked quietly, being almost too frightened to speak.
“I’m a reindeer,” he replied, “and I’m here to help you.”
“I can see you’re a reindeer,” Santa said, “but goodness me, where did you come from? How did get into my living room? Are you a ghost of reindeers past?”
“Uhhhmmm, no. I came from within you. As you know, all answers are within you. You have reindeer issues and the solutions are inside you.”
“Oh, great,” Fred said, “a bunch of new age claptrap from a figment of our imaginations. Santa, what are you putting in the glug? Are you adding windshield solvent in there again? Or are you secretly giving us the brown acid, because we are definitely having a bad trip right now”
“Shut up. Let the reindeer ghost talk.”
“I’m not a ghost,” the ghostly looking reindeer said. “I’m simply a manifestation of your inner knowledge made flesh in the form of a reindeer, a creature you know and trust, and I am here to help you draw out the information you already have but can’t quite access because of your current agitated state.”
Santa looked at the animal in front of him somewhat unbelievingly. “Why are you glowing?”
“Not too sure about that. Always do whenever I make an appearance though.”
“Can you fly? Is that why you’re here?” Santa asked hopefully. “With your ghostly glow so bright won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?”
“I don’t fly,” the reindeer said quietly but firmly.
“It would be really great if you could fly,” Santa said with a tone of despair in his voice. “That would solve a lot of my problems.”
“Okay,” said the reindeer while rolling his eyes slightly, “ it’s good to have focus, but you need to stop focusing on me flying, because I don’t.”
“Then what good are you to me?” Santa was on the edge of the couch now. “I need to fly around the world in one night, it’s dark out, the reindeer I need to guide me is dead drunk as is his girlfriend, and the other reindeer are having intestinal problems of epic proportions.” Father Christmas was exasperated now. “So, tell me, glowing critter, what good are you to me?”
“Breathe,” was the reindeer’s response.
“What?”
“Breathe. Sit still, think of nothing for a moment, and breathe. You too, little man,” he said to Fred.
So they did, figuring there was nothing to lose and not a whole lot of other choices. Santa and his elf sat, still, breathing.
“This is what you’ve been doing for a long time now Santa,” the glowing reindeer said. “This is what your meditation has been leading you to: clarity. Breathe in, breathe out, again and again, thinking of nothing, focusing on nothingness itself, until all is clear, and all answers are knowable and known. Breathe.”
Both Santa Claus and his elf were motionless, their appearances growing more and more calm with each passing moment.
The reindeer continued in a low voice, somewhat, surprisingly, like George Clooney’s. “This is why you practice zazen, to have clarity in moments like this, moments of stress, important moments when others count on you and your knowledge. Zazen has helped you see the answers within.”
Santa Claus opened his eyes and calmly said, “Yes.” He looked at his elf friend. “Fred, go feed the reindeer oats, lots and lots of oats.”
“Some brown rice would be good too,” the glowing reindeer suggested.
“Always with the brown rice with you sensitive types,” Fred said.
“No, he’s right, Fred,’ Santa told him. “The rice and the oats will help undo the damage you did by feeding them chili dogs. Throw in some carrots and apples as well. Do the same for red nose and Vixen, after you’ve thrown some cold water on them to wake them up. And give those two plenty of hot coffee.”
“So we can have wide awake drunks?” Fred asked.
“Yep. Even a little schnockered, those two are more valuable awake than asleep. Now hurry, there’s not much time!”
“Yes, Santa,” Fred said and off he ran to the stables.
Santa Claus looked at the reindeer with kindness in his eyes. “I feel like myself again, thanks to you.”
“Peaceful and calm,” asked the glowing one.
“Peaceful, calm,” Santa replied, “a little ornery too. But that’s just me. It’s who I am.”
“We strive to be ourselves,” said the reindeer.
“Yep. And thanks again...for everything, what you did to help me.”
The reindeer began to fade away, his glow becoming steadily less bright. “I’m glad I could help but you know very well all answers were within you all along.”
With that the ghostly glowing reindeer faded from sight. Santa stood for a moment, then rushed to the stables. There he saw the last of the toys being loaded onto his sleigh. All nine of his reindeer, looking none the worse for wear, were hitched up to the sleigh and ready for their flight. The big guy took one last look in the mirror on the wall, adjusted his hat, straightened out his belt, and then Fred helped him into the sleigh.
“Sorry about the whole chili dog thing, boss.”
Santa looked down at Fred and said, “That’s okay. All’s well that ends well. And I know you won’t let it happen again, will you?” He glared menacingly at Fred (or as menacing as one can be in a white fur trimmed red suit) and said, almost under his breath but loud enough for Fred to hear, “If you do, you really will be a polar bear snack.” At the look of abject fear on Fred’s face Santa let out a roaring “Ho Ho Ho!!!!” “Then he smiled widely and said, “I could never kill you! Least I don’t think I could.”
Then Santa Claus let out another booming “Ho Ho HO!!!!” and snapped the reigns. “On Donner! On Blitzen! On Vixen and Nixon!” he shouted, then his voice began to trail off. “On Dasher and uhmm, Ringo and Pete and...oh, hell, let’s just go!” The reindeer team galloped through the wide stable door and up and up and up they rose, over the treetops, silhouetted against the moon, into the frosty clear night air and off into the distance, off to circle the globe, traveling faster than lightning speed until, back at the North Pole, they were neither seen nor heard but for a faint “ho ho ho.”
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