ONE RECESS, during my short career as an elementary school music teacher, an eight-year-old girl took my hand, tilted her head back, and looked at the bottom side of my face. It was a new perspective for her. Suddenly, she announced in amazement, “Gee, you have little black hairs coming out of your nose.”
Her observation made me laugh so loudly I think I startled her. “How wonderful,” I thought, “to speak with such candor—innocent of all that is proper and fitting.”
I love that quality in children; we could take a lesson from them. In fact, there is much that we could learn from our diminutive mentors. They are, after all, the most natural beings on earth.
While thinking this through, I have discovered something about myself. The people who I am most drawn to, the ones who I want to be around, are not afraid to be childlike. They are the ones who laugh, wink, joke, fantasize, play, explore, wonder, and use funny voices when they tell stories. In a phrase, they enjoy the moment.
If you had a choice—and you do—would you rather be childlike or grown-up? Before you answer, consider the differences.
- The childlike are spontaneous, curious, and adventuresome; the grown-up are orderly, apathetic, and resigned to long stretches of boredom.
- The childlike are genuine, straightforward, and accepting of others; the grown-up are guarded, secretive, and judgmental.
- The childlike are trusting, silly, and refreshingly innovative; the grown-up are fearful, solemn, and victims of convention.
Being childlike has nothing to do with chronology. I know responsible adults of every age who are delightfully childlike. Conversely, I’ve met some twelve-year-olds who are sadly and thoroughly grown-up—strutting around self-consciously in stiff, pubescent bodies.
It’s amazing how quickly a free-spirited child can be transformed into an uptight elder. It is no wonder when you consider how we scold our youngsters for being childlike. “When are you going to grow up?” “Don’t be so childish.” “Why don’t you act your age?” And these messages begin about the time the infant learns to walk! It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how children will respond. “I hate it when they holler; I better start acting grown-up.”
Regrettably, children learn very quickly to abandon their natural instinct for fun and spontaneity. They concentrate on being more like their parents: rigid, judgmental, serious, and humorless. Soon, they are condemning their younger bothers and sisters for not being more “mature.” The cycle is never ending.
When I was eight years old, I lived in a trailer court. There was a common washroom with three showers and a couple of sinks. Every Saturday night my brother and I would march over to take our weekly bath—right, whether we needed it or not. I will never forget those scrubbings. We took something disgusting—getting clean, yuck!—and turned it into a carnival. After we had thoroughly soaped and rinsed, we cranked all three showers to full hot. In minutes the washroom was steaming, a soggy carton of wet, hot fog.
Then we did it. We went keister-sailing across the room on our gleaming, pink bottoms, hooting and hollering and crashing into porcelain. It’s amazing how slick concrete gets with a thin film of steam.
I am smiling now as I write about that adventure. I even feel the old excitement gurgling in my stomach. I don’t want to give that up. I want to slide on my labonza again and this time go for the world record.
“That’s childish,” you say?
Yes it is. And thank you for noticing.
