Not Just a Twig November 11, 2008

Thanks to a tip from a professor, I discovered that recently a new toy was inducted into the National Toy Hall of Fame. I found this article from the Boston Globe covering the story of the stick’s rise to the top of the list of the most treasured toys.

The article cites its simplicity and cost-effective nature, but what really struck me was the idea that part of what was great about the stick was that there were no rules, no assembly required sort of thing. The same is true of a past inductee, the cardboard box. Oh the simplicity we have left behind.

I have always been a by-the-rules kind of girl. I always obeyed my teachers and parents, followed any directions given me, and colored inside the lines because I didn’t want to get in trouble and maybe because I felt this pressure to not disappoint. But sometimes I wish I weren’t so much like that. I think we all probably do to some degree. There are so many rules absolutely worth breaking (of course while still considering any moral implications) and that is another thing that incorporated into adutlhood would send us all to the heart of who we really are.

I feel there needs to be some point where we make our own rules. By doing this we can take what seems to be nothing (similar to the stick or the cardboard box) and make it our own, make it something that has the power to change our reality. As I am growing older and taking more responsibility for the course of my life, I find I am gaining more courage to break some rules, take some chances, and venture every part of me just so that I can gain something.

Interesting thought: a branch must break in order to make a stick.

Hi, what’s your name? November 9, 2008

When I was little, my brother was always playing baseball. I would have to tag along since I was so young, and while my parents would watch the nine innings, I would find a playground or a sandbox, or anything at the park to keep me occupied when I couldn’t convince my mom to buy me some nachos at the snack bar.

Luckily, I was usually not alone in this. I could always count on there being at least one other younger sibling who had no interest in watching a baseball game. The thing I remember most about those nights spent at a baseball complex was how easy it was to make friends. I was very shy, but I had no problem walking up to almost anyone and asking if they wanted to play on the jungle gym.

I did, of course, have a very strict screening process before becoming friends on the playground. It went something like this. “Hi, what’s your name?” They respond. “Cool. How old are you?” We exchange numbers (age that is) and are ready to play. That is all there was to it.

I have often thought about this, sometimes longing for the simplicity of connecting with another person without any preconceived notions or judgments about who we are or where we came from. It is something I want to bring back to the forefront of my life. It is not always kosher to be so upfront with people you have just met, and that is a norm I do not understand but have and probably will continue to abide by. Hopefully we can all break down those walls.

My favorite musician, Natasha Bedingfield, has a song on her second CD entitled “Backyard” and it explains so well the thoughts I have put forth here. I was looking for a way to add it to the blog and found this clip from a live show where she explains thoughts similar to mine…how easy it was as kids and how we can carry that with us into our adult lives to make the world a better place. The quality is a little shaky, but I thought it best to hear her explanation to her own song from her. Take a look.

Remaining and Regaining September 2, 2008

With a college graduation date looming and uncertainty constantly running through my head like my blood through my veins, I find myself forced to decide what I want. That certainly seems easy enough, a simple question. It is true, there are simple questions in this life – questions like, chocolate or vanilla? (for me, chocolate without a doubt), do you want to fall in love? (yes, and I am waiting – at times not so patiently), would you like fries with that? (of course), would you rather be hot or cold? (definitely, I would rather be –”) Hold up. No, that is not a simple question at all. It is much like the current question facing me upon my chartered wave of mustered confidence that I hope seamlessly delivers me to a more stable state of adulthood.

The intricacies of the hot/cold question have always fascinated me. People often respond something like, “Well, I’d rather be cold, because then at least I can cover up with layers and warm myself up.” However, that sort of response does not answer this particular question at all. The precise question is which state do you find more bearable? We must consider this regardless of possible ways of escaping said state or improving upon it. A state is something stable and unchanging in and of itself. Changing from one state to another is entirely possible due to the forces of the world surrounding us, but I am concerned now with choosing a state that is most adequately equipped to remain in light of changing landscapes. With this in mind, the hot/cold question really does not seem simple anymore. These states are unchanging – hot is always hot. It cannot become cold, because that is an entirely different state altogether.

The same analysis of the hot/cold question must be applied to my current situation. To answer the question of “What do I want out of life?”, I would have to provide some sort of roadmap filled with a list of accomplishments, all of which are subject to enablement or disablement by the everchanging possibilities that inevitably accompany any future. It is again not so simple. Instead I must answer a different, more precise question – What do I want to be? By answering this, I can strive towards a stable state of being that is able to roll with the possible punches of the future.

After much – well, actually – after not all that much consideration, I have discovered that I wish not to become anything, but to regain and remain something I have always had within me. I wish to retain the spirit of who I was at the beginning of this whole thing (the fantastic, maddening, and inspiring thing called life), and that is a child.

I do not want to grow up. Doing so is too often associated with a loss of childlike wonderment and insatiable curiousity about our surroudings. So in order to remain a child and also to regain some of that spirit I may have already began to lose, I am making a promise to the me of my youngest years that I will find her again, learn from her, and never try to improve upon her enlivened view of the world within her childlike state. I owe this to her, afterall, she made me who I am. In order to do this, over the next few months I will engage in childlike behavior with the enthusiasm of my earlier self. I will reflect upon the wisdom that can be gleaned from this state of being. I have already known these things that are available for me to learn through this, so I guess it will be a time of rediscovery. On the verge of growing up, I am packing up and taking everything that got me this far along with me.