Lessons I Learn from the Park on a Winter Day
2011/01/09 § 11 Comments
I love being at the park, whatever the season.
But wintertime is special.
It’s when I hear the words “PUSH ME DOWN” and it brings inexplicable joy to my heart. I know I’ve lived in the adult world too long when the same words initially stir anger or fear in me. Adults don’t like being pushed down. Not at work nor in personal relationships. Not emotionally, intellectually or physically. But on a snowy hill in wintertime, the air is fairly ringing with “push me down” insistently and excitedly. Children are asking, in fact ordering, their dads and their friends and their siblings to push them down the hill and even I, a mere spectator, feel the thrill and happiness of it.
It is a joy to see children scrambling up after tumbling down and raring to go up again so that they can tumble down some more. We have forgotten this as adults. We fall. And stay down. We mull, scratch our heads. Get depressed. Trudge heavily up, if at all. Desperately procrastinating having to climb up because it takes too much work or because we are so afraid to fall again.
One should always try to go to a park after a particularly snowy day. Paths and roads and markers are covered in snow. One can walk to where he wants without following the road. It is a brief freedom but freedom nevertheless and is quite liberating. One can take shortcuts or go round in circles and it somehow doesn’t matter. One can tumble and fall and it’s okay. It’s what one should be doing on a snowy day.
And if I had any good sense, next time I go to the park and see a pile of cuttings…I should just jump into it and stay in as long as I could so that I could lie on a bed of pine needles and breathe and be enveloped in its wonderful scent. Adults just don’t jump into piles, right? But there are all sorts of piles. And piles of pine branches and barks and needles are the best sort of piles. Not all piles are piles of dung. Which we jump into anyway, most of the time. Though we don’t know it. So I don’t see why we shouldn’t knowingly jump into a good pile. I guess it’s just not very adult to “jump into things.” One always has to mull. Scratch his head. Ponder deeply. And some such.
When the next snowfall covers the park, I promise – I will go and find someone to push me down, and I will slide and tumble with abandon, and I will climb up with excitement, and I will jump into piles without a second thought, and I will get lost because it’s fun and I will NOT follow the road and I will stick out my tongue … and taste the falling snow.