A merry heart does good like a medicine: but a broken spirit dries the bones. – Proverbs 17:22
Somewhere along the way I lost the ability to play.
I look at little girls who skip and flip and frolic, and wonder; at what age did I lose that skill and trade all that lightness for a socially-approved productive mindset? When did I become self-conscious and know that I had to behave like a nice lady? (Okay. I shan’t go that far with this…I am quite sure I have never been accused of being too ladylike).
No. This is not about lady-like or not-so-lady-like behaviour. This is about my internal mindset. That blasted KFKD radio station that tells me I must continually be of value, produce something tangible, create a better world and save the planet.
I know other friends who struggle with this…this inability to read during the day, hang at a beach or bob in a pool with absolutely nothing (gasp!) to show for themselves at the end of that ‘indulgent’ process.
Apparently it took me 53-years to absorb all these lessons, so I’m pretty sure I won’t kick the habit all in one week. But lately, I have become even more determined to achieve this state. I hate to say I’m going to work at this, because oh my, my, there we are working again.
And yes, I believe one of the purposes of life is to make some portion of our world better as a result of us being in it. But one way of making my patch of this world-garden nicer is if I’m more relaxed and happy, non?
I know too, that my life can look like it is one large poolside frolic – but I’m going to let you in on a dirty secret…all those amazing beach and luxe hotel pool images of mine? Odds are that I was whirling through on a press trip and spent a total of three minutes beside a pool getting that image, before I was froggie-marched on to the next amazing resort and its resultant image.
There is no doubt that I have had some pretty amazing trips where I have done a whole lot of nothing but hangin’ about. But how things appear to the external world are not necessarily a reflection of what is happening in my internal mental landscape…where my mother’s voice is still endlessly asking me what I have to show for myself.
I have realized that one of the huge attractions of travel for me is that by merely being on the road I am doing something. It’s a good trick to stop the stupid internal chatter. It is my get-out-of-jail free card.
Look! I am TRAVELING.
Look! I can’t do anything except read a book…I’m waiting at the gate!
Look! I can’t save the world…I’m busy getting from one place to another!
However, I’d like to be able to give myself permission to do nothing without having to book a ticket.
Let there be no mistake. I don’t want to lie on a beach doing nada for the rest of my life. That sounds like a special recipe for death by boredom. I actually enjoy working on my various projects and find them very absorbing and fulfilling.
But in between the work, I want the mental freedom to be able to tap into my ten-year old self’s ability to play without thinking about what else should be getting done. I want to mindlessly frolic, to have fun and to teach my inner-Mennonite with her oh-so-sensible-apron to untie those strings, lighten up and start skipping…
So. If you see a large-boned 53-year old woman bobbing in a lake, hopping down the street or generally making a fool of herself? Please indulge her and try to be kind as you can.
She is, after all, just a little girl in a rather well-worn disguise.
As someone who places a great deal of emphasis upon personal dignity, I am offended at the overall tone of this piece. Puritanesque (whoops, typed Putinesque, had to go back and retype) and dutiful application of labour is the foundation of a life well-lived… blah blah blah.
I just scored a free Eddie Bauer stroller for our two elderly pugs, and if that isn’t the definition of silliness and willingness to ignore scorn and ridicule, I don’t know what is!
I know what you mean about the difference between the invisible and ‘behind the scenes’; my work is living on the Sunshine Coast and sharing the experience, so literally everything is fodder for the work hopper. Every image snapped, every new discovery feels like a story that must be blogged after copious amount of time editing images, and there are never enough hours in the day to complete the projects in my head. So the idea of swinging in a hammock or just laying at the beach, or taking a day for playland, grabbing a gravol and hitting the rides seems ridiculously irresponsible.
But you give me hope with your winsome posts, and I remember: get off the computer, put the camera down, and PLAY. XO
Dear Miz Putin-Puritan with Hopes of Being Winsome…I am sure you realize that I post these things in the hopes that public declarations will inspire me to action. Sort of like wedding vows or public oaths of office (wish I could come up with a better examples that actually are more effectively enacted, but still, I believe you understand the point I am trying to make!).
I believe the pug-pushing stroller moments will be your very own version of Playland. Might I suggest whimsical clown noses for each dog?
This then, shall be our collective promise to play: I will if you will 🙂
You go girl! I may hop along beside you! Keep that little Colleen alive! 🙂
Laurie, some might argue I never grew up! In many ways I feel I have some of that child alive, but then the big bad mommy-voice comes along and tells me to get to work. Just looking for ways to give that Internal Censor/Mother a long time out! Meanwhile…perhaps a game of hopscotch?
Travelling all over the world, writing blogs, moving house – I would not say that’s doing nothing! but I think it is important to stay in tune with your inner self, the child within you. It is something that I’ve always tried to do – please the child within me.
You’ll stay happier if you follow that track.
Catherine, I know you’re right. I’m tring to really tune in & remember what I used to enjoy as a child. There are huge clues in that investigation. I loved being outside in our back woods, weekly trips to the library to pile up an exciting new line-up of books, playing in the water in an old boat that I built with my dad and riding my bike – and spinning a globe to imagine where I’d travel next. Hmmm….
Ah, Colleen…I think it’s a menopausal-woman thing. We are precisely the same age, and your blog posts read as though you’ve been living inside my brain. I taught myself to swim this year…a conscious effort to live more playfully and less fearfully.
Thanks, too, for ‘fessing up about the reality of those press trips–all of a sudden one day I just couldn’t do it anymore…so now I pay the full ride but enjoy as many hours as I want beachside! 😉
Where are you downtown? We should connect…I live near Stanley Park…
cheers
J
Ha Julie…am I once again just part of a perimenopausal zeitgeist thing? We are in the midst of the big move…heading over to Olympic Village but have bike, will travel. Would love to head out your way for a coffee and some frolicking mindless frivolous fun!
I’ve heard that pool noodles can be very helpful with this:)
Irene, it is, in fact, those Sedona pool noodle incident(s) that have been working on my brain…
Great (as always!) I’ve been feeling much the same lately–When did I become so self-conscious? Afraid to do something that might look silly. Why do we shrink into ourselves as we get older?
Well, I’m with you, Colleen. I’m ready to “mindlessly frolic.”
hey Gwen! Nice to have company. Here’s to cavorting and frolicking and looking as silly as possible!