I’m turning serial and it’s going to be a threesome. I have no choice in the matter. It was a commitment I made, a voluntary effort and I need to push through.
Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more. Make today’s post the first in a three-post series…
It is the latest assignment of the Writing 101 thing-a-ma-chig I signed up for on WordPress so everyone can relax. I’m not about to start swinging a chainsaw severing limbs. I’ve hidden all my power tools and the big knifes are back in the drawer where they belong. I have kept the gloves, overall and a roll of plastic covering, just in case. You never know when it might come in handy.
Have you ever sat and watched kids play? Have you seen how carefree they are? Have you observed how they thrive in an imaginary world, where people fly and ceramic animals talk to each other. Where a bedroom can be a mall or a classroom or a doctor’s office. A world where anything is possible.
Kids run and play throughout their short lives, not bothered with the trivialities because someone else worries for them. They’re like sparrows soaring, not caring about their next meal or where they’ll sleep tonight. For they know these things will happen. They do NOT care that it doesn’t happen by itself. They just enjoy every moment.
Getting older implies that we migrate from babies to toddlers to children to teenagers, finally reaching adulthood. During this migration we loose something. We lose things because of life. Because of our reality, because of our circumstances, because society expects us to. For adults are adults and not children. But sadly some adults just turn into cynical, stressed out, anxious, impatient and busy versions of the children they once were.
In my serious attempt at a series of posts, I will cover three things I think we lost as we gotten older. Three things we lost without even noticing that it’s missing from our lives. Three things we only become aware of, if we bother to take the time to watch and learn. From our own children.
The first thing adults lost would be our sense of humour. The ability to laugh at ourselves. To be able to laugh at other people and not being offended by it.
When we were kids anything was funny. The dog having a dream, Dad farting or Mom swearing unexpectedly, everything resulted in an avalanche of laughter. Small arbitrary things caused an explosion of hilarity. It was never about the concept of humour, we didn’t understand what it was, we just loved to laugh. It was about the thrill. That feeling you get when your stomach aches for laughing to hard, when you hold on to the door because you might keel over, or you cross your legs in fear that you might wet yourself.
When was the last time you laughed THAT hard? When was the last time you had an uncontrollable giggle attack? Or worse, when was the last time you actually smiled at someone?
Have we forgotten how to laugh? Have we forgotten what is sounds like? Have we forgotten what if feels like?
Why do grown-ups have to take themselves so seriously? Why can’t we just lighten up a bit? Why can’t we just focus on the lighter side of life for a change? Why has everything in life have to be a sequence of doom and gloom? What happened to the happy and gay? (In the non-sexual way.)
I have a challenge for you: Let’s find it again, our childlike sense of humour. Our ability to laugh. Let’s all go on a quest and search for the things that makes us giddy and glad, and then we go back and share those discoveries with everyone we know, nicely wrapped in a smile!
It’s very difficult to stay sombre and bitter when people around you break into bursts of joy, without an obvious reason for it.