Some days I just want to go back to
preschool. Life is good when your day is
filled with plates of food arranged into happy faces, strictly enforced afternoon
nap times and your most stressful responsibility is to put your toy trucks and
stuffed animals into their proper containers.
While those reasons alone are enticing enough for me to put a time
machine on my wish-list, there is a more compelling aspect of the preschooler’s
life that I wish we had as adults.
Picture yourself at the preschool Lego
table, minding your own business, building a most awesome atomic space rocket,
when another short person walks up and starts assembling a stunning launch pad
complete with count-down clock.
BAM! You suddenly have a
very-best-friend. You spend the morning
running around hand-in-hand, giggling at nothing. Then at your request your Mom sets up a
play-date complete with fishy crackers, juice-filled sippy-cups and piles of brightly
colored interlocking rectangular blocks.
No political arguments, social faux-pas or religious toe-stepping to
worry about. Sure, there may be a
squabble over who gets to smash the block tower or be the police officer at the
pretend toy robbery, but as soon as the cookies and milk are served, all
ill-feelings are forgotten and a new game begins.
Sometime along the path of growing
up, maybe during the years of becoming “cool” in later elementary school or
among the awkward growth spurts of the lanky and lost middle schooler, making
new friends becomes less natural and highly over-thought. “Will she think I'm stupid?” they worry. “He’ll laugh at me.” The invitation to 'hang out' may never be
made. Opportunity lost. No new friend.
We adults have our stand-by friends
and our co-workers with which to share a beer or coffee and some small talk,
but wouldn’t it be nice to just see someone who looks interesting and say, “Hey! Come on over and we can finger paint, race
some hot wheels and eat mac and cheese!” without the fear of being judged?
In recent years I have found a way
to do this without a time machine – become a volunteer. I know that many of you figured this out
decades ago, but I couldn’t find the right volunteer spot – I hate committees
and I’m really bad at selling things or begging for cash.
I feel extra fortunate to have a gregarious
group of gals that I call my pals, and they have a habit of volunteering me to
join them in all kinds of endeavors that help the community. Since we run, we end up passing out water or
awards at fundraising runs for awesome causes like Girls on the Run or organizations
that support homeless mothers and children.
We have used our elbow grease to help other trail-loving groups build
paths through our beloved hills. One
season I even became a door-beller to raise funds for the Healthy Kids Campaign
at the Y – I was terrible at it and they didn’t ask me back, but it felt good
to try and I did raise a few dollars for the cause. Whatever the job, it can be a great excuse to
just hang out with like-minded people and giggle at nothing.
At each and every one of these
events at which I have volunteered, I end up feeling like the beneficiary
rather than the helper. My social group
grows with the new friends I meet, these playmates stretch my comfort zone and
teach me something fresh and I always leave with that glow in my gut that tells
me “I done good.” It certainly doesn’t
feel like ‘work’ in the adult sense of the word. I like to think of these commitments as Grown-Up Play Dates. And afterwards I
No comments:
Post a Comment