[Authors’ Note. I wrote the first draft of
this article almost 1-year ago. But while the event that triggered
this article might be old-news, the lesson is timeless. Enjoy!]
One of my daughter’s, favorite activities recently is the
wild and exuberant release of a sound that is a cross between a
Tarzan yodel and a Native American war whoop. She starts out softly
and increases the volume as she pats her hand on and off her mouth.
It’s an expression of pure enthusiasm and joy for life.
There is no pattern that I can discern, no rhyme or reason to her
whooping. It happens spontaneously and rises up from the depth of
her being at unexpected and completely random moments. It’s
as if the beauty, excitement and joy of this life become too much
for her to hold inside any longer and she lets them out!
When we’re at the park or on the beach it’s great.
When we’re home it’s usually fine. When we’re
in the car it’s all right, although it certainly does echo
quite a bit in that small space.
But when we’re in the grocery store, or a restaurant, or
the video store, I feel compelled to moderate the volume a bit.
And when we’re on a plane, or at a funeral well…
On our trip to my father-in-law’s funeral, I had the opportunity
to experience both of those.
During the 5-hour flight to Nashville, there were numerous repetitions
of:
“Stop kicking the seat, Ella.”
“Why?”
“The person in front of you doesn’t like it.”
“Why?”
“It’s uncomfortable.”
“Why.”
And then there were the multiple refrains of:
“No we can’t walk up and down the aisle again.”
“Why?”
“The fasten seat belt sign is on.”
“Why?”
“Because the captain thinks it could be bumpy?”
“Why?”
And then there were those moments when I heard her winding up into
one of those whoops. And I knew that wasn’t going to go over
very well on the plane! A couple of times I actually had to put
my hand over her mouth to muffle her whoops. Which, of course, made
her think it was a game and caused her to do it with even more intensity.
You get the general idea.
When we arrived in Nashville, and connected with Melissa, Ella
was able to let out some big whoops. And I encouraged her to get
as much of it out of her system as she could before we got to the
family’s house.
And then came the funeral. It was hard enough keeping tabs on Ella
while we all waited to go into the sanctuary. (Thank goodness the
funeral home had a kid’s room with books and puzzles and games!)
Finally the staff came and let us know it was time. They ushered
us into the sanctuary and wheeled “Pop-pop” in. And
the moment the preacher stepped up to the podium, Ella suddenly
had the inspiration to start singing. And so she did!
Now, personally, I can’t think of anything more appropriate
for a funeral than singing! Especially when it’s coming from
the cutest three-year-old girl ever!
But apparently not everyone shared my opinion, and Ella’s.
So we went outside where Ella could sing and dance and whoop it
up as much as she wanted.
The whole experience, from plane flight to funeral, made me painfully
aware of how often I was asking Ella to curb her enthusiasm. I became
acutely aware of how enthusiasm un-friendly our culture really is.
I mean how many places are there where a kid, or an adult for that
matter, can really let loose and whoop it up?
How often do our children hear “shh,” or “stop
that,” or “use your inside voice,” or “calm
down or you’ll get a time-out?”
How often did you hear those things when you were a child?
Is it any wonder that the vast majority of us mature grown-up types
have a hard time connecting with our passion and enthusiasm? Most
of us had our passion “shushed” out of us by the time
we were three!
Now I know I can’t always give Ella free-reign to let loose
with her whoops, but helping her to grow up with her enthusiasm
intact is more important to me than being socially acceptable. I
want her to grow up with that zest for life still bubbling up from
within her. So I occasionally find myself walking the fine line
between what is culturally acceptable and what feels best for Ella.
Fortunately, we have found pre-schools that encourage that enthusiasm
rather than attempting to stifle it, and Ella has wonderful “friends”
(babysitters) that encourage and even join in her passionate expressions
of joy.
And even I’ve gotten into the habit of joining her whenever
possible, showing her that, yes, there’s even hope for the
old-fogeys in her life!
If you haven’t tried it lately, I assure you, there is something
truly thrilling and awakening in the pure uninhibited expression
of joy and enthusiasm.
What about you? Where does your pure, uninhibited enthusiasm for
life come out? Anywhere?
Well, if not, where do you begin to touch the edge of your enthusiasm?
Where do you feel your excitement beginning to bubble up to the
surface?
Sill not happening?
Well then, where do you begin to feel the ice of inhibition and
constriction breaking? What activities, places, people, begin to
awaken your joie de vivre, that innate joy for life that you carry
deep inside you?
As you discover these activities, people and places, start making
space for them. Allow your enthusiasm to awaken. And when you hear
that voice in your head saying, “shh,” or “calm
down,” or “Use your inside voice,” I encourage
you to stick your tongue out in its general direction and get even
louder!
And here’s a tip: There’s nothing like a good Tarzan
yodel to break the inhibition and awaken that passion that’s
waiting to come out. Come on; give it a try right now.
I double dare you!
Did this article generate any questions, comments,
or inspirations?
If so, come join
the conversation.
|