Playground Romance December 4, 2008

I can think of three specific romances that blossomed on the playground. The second and third grades were my luckiest years for love, and I managed to squeeze it all into the 20 minutes allotted for recess. How magical.

It is interesting to think about, how we were so young and trying to be so grownup by falling in love. What is this inherent need that we have? We could enter a huge discussion about the nature of love and all its intricacies, but then again, maybe it is as simple as a recess. It is something that takes us from the ordinary, a recess from other comparatively ho-hum moments.

As a girl of 21, I am keenly aware of the searching and hoping for love that people my age (and all ages, really) engage in. It is interesting because at my time, love seems so complicated to me and to my friends. Romances have come and gone, been good and flubbed, and then just plainly disappeared. It becomes this thing we have to analyze because we just cannot understand. But maybe if we remember how simple it is, think back to how easily our playground romances flowed, we could be better equipped to see love as it hits us square between the eyes (whenever that may be) and to wait patiently until then.

I stumbled upon this feature from NBC’s Today Show where a young boy publicize’s the book he wrote to help boys of all ages to do the right things in order to get the right girls. Besides being exceptionally well-spoken for a boy of 9, his advice is exceptionally insightful yet simple.

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/26184891/vp/28050331#28050331

Identity and Language December 3, 2008

Two Sundays ago at mass the homily was particularly inspiring and insightful (something that happens probably a lot more often than I recognize). But it really hit me well because it appealed to a lot of the things I think about life and also in something I had thought about for this blog.

The readings for the day spoke of who would and who would not be welcomed into the kingdom of heaven, depending on how each lives his or her life. For purposes of the manner in which it is best to live your life, this can be applied to any faith, I think. The priest took this theme and applied it to the idea of identity. The discussion was very fruitful for me.

He remarked how important it is to understand identity. Most often and most evident are cultural identities, those which set apart and also bring together different people from different parts of the world. The most obvious differnce between people from different cultures is language. Language has always fascinated me, I wonder what it really is saying. To some degree it is very complicated, but at its foundations it is so natural that it cannot be that complicated. We learn language as children just from being around people employing it. There isn’t a real study involved (besides further grammatical clarifications in grade school). But essentially, language is something we all come to know intimately just by participating. 

What I got from the homily was that the best way to live on this earth is to learn the language of love. And not just learn its grammatical intricacies, but instead to completely inhabit the words. As children we usually just say what we think, and it is without any walls. We are not worried about saying the wrong thing, because we really only see one way to say things best. I imagine what it’s like when you truly fall in love. When you love someone, the best way to tell them is just to say “I love you.” People often remark about the power of three little words, and it is so true.

Sometimes as we grow older, however, I think we start to believe we need more words. We have this desire to be heard and to explain ourselves. But if we are able to completely inhabit a few words that mean a lot, then there will be no need to hide behind all the others. By engaging in this language of love, then we can all create an identity that can place us amongst everyone. It breaks down the barriers between people that speak English, Spanish, Italian, Japanese, or what have you.

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.