The Child Within Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Yesterday I was again out on one of my lunch hour walks. I took note of everyone else enjoying their lunch hour outside...same as me. Suits, ties, high heels, dresses. Everyone looked so mature! They walked and talked as we passed on the sidewalk. I heard bits of conversation about company stuff. Everyone was so businesslike. I started to try to picture them when they were kids around 6 or 7. What were they like then? At what point in their lives did they jump from who they were to what they are now? Did they mature gradually or was there an event in their life that forced them to grow up? Or, are they still that child and are only acting the part to fit in with society's rules?

I like to believe that everyone has an inner child. Some let this child run rampant in their lives as it jumps on the furniture with unabashed glee creating havoc around them. Others keep their inner child securely locked in the attic pretending it doesn't exist. I don't think that inner child ever dies but instead is dormant waiting for the chance to be free of the daily restraints. Which of these people allowed their inner child out to play?

Within reason, and also so that people don't think I'm totally nuts, I allow mine to run the show sporadically. I mostly do this at home. I talk to the dogs in silly accents. I put on my favorite music and break into free form dance. I just act silly. How much fun is one able to have if one always has to act maturely? There is a freedom in just being oneself. When you were 6 or 7, you were just yourself.

I remember the first time I acted goofy around Jamie. All of a sudden out of my mouth sprang sillines. I whipped around embarrassed and looked at Jamie to see if he heard me. His reaction? He said he liked it as it showed I had an active imagination. I knew then that he would never try to change me and would accept me for who I was. That was important to me.

I made it back to my building and held both the outer and inner door for someone that looked like she may have been just slightly physically impaired with some kind of limp. We both got to the elevator at the same time and the doors opened. I walked in first and she followed. I pushed the button for my floor and she did nothing. I looked over at her. She still did nothing. I was fully confident that she was not so dull that she didn't know what to do in an elevator. Finally I asked her what floor she wanted. Her response was to say she thought she wanted the second floor and looked at me as if I would know if that was correct. Inside I rolled my eyes and harrumphed. Outside I turned from her and pushed the button. All I could think of was just because I waited for you and held the doors doesn't mean that I also want to push the button for you.