Lessons from Children
It’s early May, in the south, and … cold? Meteorologists, scientists, and environmentalists can explain it however they like, but honestly, southerners don’t care as to why. We just want warmth. Morning temp in the upper fifties has me out searching like an anti-vamp for sunlight.
I geared up in my collegiate wear—the devoted alum that I am—and headed to the park with the intention of working on my writing projects while basking in rays of the sun. But everyone knows the proverb about good intentions and what street they may pave. Distractions come easily for me—first was a local band still setup on stage from yesterday’s park festival. Before disassembling, they decided to crank a few more out to the trees, joggers, squirrels, and groupies they brought with them. The next was the gentle breeze, humming me to sleep but prevent by the shrieking kids playing on the jungle gym.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. One kid. There was a girl around six or seven whose shrill found the base of my spinal cord and pogoed on it like an electric eel. Her screams were a horror movie casting director’s dream. I mean, this girl hollered. Her screams were obnoxious and pointless. She wasn’t being hurt or responding to others. In fact, none of the other children appeared to play with her, but she seemed to think she was playing with them. The other kids chased each other, and this little girl screamed and ran when the chasers came close. But the chaser never attempted to chase her or acknowledge that she wanted to be chased. No one addressed her or even looked in her direction. She merely ran the gauntlet of obstacles, yelling at her lungs’ full capacity. Bless her poor mother who surely must drink.
But the girl’s screaming got me to thinking. How often in life do we engage in actions for not intended purpose? I’m very guilty, and I know I am anytime some questions as to why I did something and my response is “I don’t know”.
Sometimes, that is mainly how I progress through my day. I have random thoughts and wander aimlessly through miles of useless cognitions and daydreams. There’s a certain internet site that truly enables this behavior. Once I visit it, I may spend hours clicking on endless photos and clogging my neurons and glial cells with DIYs I’ll never do.
At times, at work, I’ll read an old report I completed and want to melt into the floor tiles from its lack of sophistication and/or creativity to go beyond the status quo. Acceptable and competent the reports may be but nowhere close to my potential.
In my personal life, I find myself lost mid-sentence due to my not being invested fully. This is especially obvious when it comes to my remembering new names. Someone introduces himself/herself to me, and before he/she finishes, I’ve already forgotten. On Mondays, I reflect on the weekend and can’t recall spending it. I don’t mean a “blackout” amnesia, but rather, having performed activities so insignificant I can’t recall what they are.
In retrospect, it doesn’t seem wise to have so much of my life constituting to one ginormous, futile scream. The Serenity Prayer speaks of having the wisdom to differentiate between things that can and can’t be changed. So, by my acknowledging this to be an area in my life that needs changing, I suppose that denotes a certain degree of wisdom. I’m taking my lessons from a child.
