Renewing my sense of the fantastic in everyday life is something this Corporate Family Man sometimes forgets to do. One method I use for getting myself out of a funk is watching people drive. My truck sits high off the ground so when I sit at traffic lights, I literally look down at people, as they turn the corner. They pass just a few meters away and I tell myself not to look as unhappy as almost everyone who drives by. I have noticed that many of the people passing - maintain a wicked, nasty, mean look on their face. Using these strangers as a way to remind myself not to let mundane things rule me. Not to let daily life gloss over what's really important.
Of course, the most lasting moments that get me to pull away from what most people consider normal comes from where I least expect it, but when its needed the most.
Sitting in the Scottie McBeans, a neighborhood restaurant, early on a Sunday morning my two
sons kept eyeing the gumball machines. These mechanical devices did not only dispense candy, but little toy mysteries in plastic, extremely hard to open bubbles. In my sons eyes, these toys could be anything from a tiny magnifying glass, to a full fledge working laser beam gun capable of taking out the neighbors mini van. With breakfast down to the last two cups of coffee and the half eaten sugar soaked pancakes the boys insisted upon, they start asking if I have any quarters. I calmly explained that although my pockets contained no coins, I was willing to part with the one dollar bill that materialized and came to a rest on the table. The one condition I had, was that they needed to cross over to the counter, not quite 30 feet away and ask for change while Mom and I finished our coffee.
My reasons were clear enough to me. My eldest boy immediately looked nervous and sat back down in his seat. Starting his internal debate on whether to engage with a stranger or give up his chance at true happiness. This fear is something the eight year old boy has always struggled with, and I continue to encourage him to overcome it when I feel the situation is safe. He never needed to be taught "Stranger Danger" as it appeared to be a strong, built in, instinct within him. I have yet to trace the time in our early parenthood where I said or did just enough to heighten this fear a bit too far, and irreparably damaged normal in him, in yet one more way. Whatever it was, I apparently did not make the same mistake with our second son, succeeding in giving him a completely different set of issues to deal with.
The difference in my children issues became immediately clear as my youngest boy, a full three years younger then his older sibling, immediately grabbed the one dollar bill and headed to the counter. "Well, I didn't think that one through, but I'm far from surprised" I said quietly to my wife after my oldest boy leapt up and followed his younger brother out of immediate earshot.
I had a clear view of the following series of events: My youngest boy, shorter then the counter, but without stranger fear of any sort, tried to get the attention of anyone lost in the commotion behind the cash register. A large percentage of grown-ups seem to have a blind and deaf spot for children and he was having a very difficult time. As my eldest arrived behind his much shorter brother, his fear set back in. In a most peculiar move the eldest boy passed his brother, turned around and sat down on the floor, looking up at his sibling with his own back against the base of the counter. This move would both ensure that he could hear what was going on, would not be left out if his younger brother succeeded in obtaining quarters, and most importantly that he could not be seen by the strangers who worked there.
My youngest son not seeming to notice this move simply doubled his efforts to get what he needed. I watched as a young woman finally noticed the almost 5 year old and asked him to repeat what he said. He did as he was told and just a tad louder I could hear "Can I have some cents?". I smiled and made sure my wife was witnessing this scene with me. Louder yet - "Can I have some cents?" repeated the child while his brother whispered "Quarters" to him in an attempt to offer at least a little help. The woman's puzzled face became a smile as my son finally lifted the dollar bill and she realized what he had wanted. She accepted the dollar and gave him the quarters. Hereupon the older of the two brothers leapt up in plain sight of everyone, at this point his excitement erasing any trace of fear. They both dashed to the glorious machines of mystery, both happy and content.
This type of thing happens and it allows me to joyfully change the way I think for a good long while. My brain opens up and I can imagine the fantastic. I empathize with my sons and let my imagination run with theirs. I do not allow myself to become or think "normal" for awhile. I relax. I know that of all the people sitting behind desks at work, or turning those corners in their cars, few are thinking the way that I am thinking and I am grateful for this gift my boys have accidentally given me. I feel enlightened. I imagine that the woman behind the counter that day was secretly from the world of faerie, and somehow for a time she was able to bestow upon us all some "sense" when my littlest boy asked for it.
"Can I have some sense?" - Please do.
Peace
Paul
