Today, like any day, started off by pitting me against that most difficult of life decisions: to stay in bed, write off all exertion and just be lazy? Or get up and make the effort to have this be a day worth being out of the house? It's always a deliberation that takes a few cups of caffeinated convincing before swaying to the side of productivity, but is certainly helped along when the plans on the table actually seem worth while and fun. Soccer baseball anyone?It was an invitation passed forward to me by my brother and sister-in-law to join them and a group of friends at the park for a picnic and a game involving those red bouncy balls from our youth. You know the ones that make the hollow rubber sound? The ones that, if not handled carefully, can leave a nasty "burn" against bare flesh? The ones in elementary school that symbolized the start of recess and the end of academic learning? Of course you know the ones I mean; I bet if you closed your eyes right now, that bouncing echo sound would come rushing back through your memory. Well, it's quite possibly been since my elementary years that I've played with such a toy, and so I accepted their invite and prepared to use some of those long-dormant muscle groups.
A moment ago I mentioned the end of academic processes and the start of recess or outdoor gym class, the glee of almost any student in a grade five classroom; but what I realize, after aging some years, is just what my teacher's intentions were with the activity on the ball diamond and how developmentally it did wonders for our abilities in social situations. Not only did it help to bind the relationships in the classroom but it also taught us the values of a team, of communication and of working together. (bear with me, I'm going somewhere with this). Well, despite the decades that have passed since my playground romping, those lessons still apply. And so, in a field full of strangers, I found myself once again poised in a position of cheering on teammates and working together to overcome our opponents. This ability to not only coexist amongst people we've only just met, but also amicably work towards a common goal excites me, and has reminded me that no matter where you may find yourself, there is a relationship waiting to be built.
Call it what you will: networking, schmoozing, or simply getting to know your neighbour, I find the importance of this ability overwhelmingly important and significant. Through conversation we learn, through learning we grow and through growing we can better build future relationships, a cyclical event that doesn't need to end at graduation. Amazing how a little red ball can trigger the memories and values that my teachers insisted I would one day understand.
So maybe it wasn't an adventure in culinary, nature or musical experiences, but I think that the underlying idea still applies; that trying something new, getting out of bed and pushing yourself into a situation a little bit different, maybe a little intimidating and outside of your comfort zone, can actually introduce you to something and someone great. The people you can meet and stories to hear are endless; who knows what new restaurant, band or adventure hot spot you may learn about; what friends you might make or relationships you might spark? I find a certain happiness in the fact that, just by getting out of the apartment today, there are not as many strangers left in this world.
-Phil
You must be an optimist... my clearest memory from elementary school gym class was having to sit on those stupid little square pieces of wood with wheels... We'd have to reach into the stinky, mildewy bin of never-been-washed blue or red mesh vests to put on top of our gym clothes and then use our legs to pull the makeshift skateboards around(actually, I think they were dolleys) while trying to either capture a dodge ball, or use a plastic scoop to pass around a likewise plastic ball. Here's what that taught me:
ReplyDelete1) It's easy to get injured when you have gym class in the low budget public school system (splinters and running over fingers)
2) Gym teachers were the run down, given up on life types that wore sweatpants all the time as a signifier of their defeat and that enacted their revenge on the world by making little chubby kids such as myself climb ropes in front of the class (read: hover at the end of the rope struggling not to fall... there's nothing like hand and upper thigh rope burns to foster resentment for authority figures)
3) Distrust for my likewise stinky, evil little peers with their scratched up knees and eagerness to do bodily harm to others when the teacher wasn't looking.
Obviously, while my peers were playing sports and getting all socially developed, I was fostering a festering distrust of physical activity and sweatpant clad authority figures. But I'm glad you got something out of that whole thing. :)
What's up, Duder? I didn't realize you were still rocking the blog. I never realized how great these things are for killing downtime at work.
ReplyDeleteLet me know when you're in the city next, we'll grab a beer.