It reminded me of something I've thought often about kids.... That they are fun-makers, literally looking to turn everything into fun, as if their natural state is laughter or at least smiles, which is something that must be shared.
And if you don't laugh along, if you start getting all serious and needing earnestly to get things done-- that's when they'll butt up against you and be stubborn and whiny and difficult.
If you can make things fun, you can also get things done.
Sometimes I think that's the "purpose" of children in the world, to remind us to lighten up and connect with each other and get some perspective. I suppose that's why older people, at least the nice ones, like kids so much too-- they appreciate the incredible tight-packed essence of life and energy in their little frames, and they see how that drains with age, without us even realizing it....
So if there is a human instinct for recovery and joy, it is a primal one from earliest childhood. It's the child in us, ironically, that can keep going, that can take loss and disappointment in stride.
I think there are a few other forces at work in all of us too. Of course the force of fear-- which is the opposing force of fun in every way. If fun gets us to try new things, to be curious and connecting, fear causes us to draw back, to doubt ourselves, to turn inward.
Perhaps deriving from this basic dichotomy, there comes from that feeling of fun a drive to create and be productive, to work (if the work is right, "unalienated" I suppose). And from fear, there comes a drive to destroy.
Where does boredom come in, I wonder, another truly elemental state. I suppose it can lead either way-- thrill seeking can be destructive or generative.
I'm grateful for the book for making me feel so much while staying so safe -- without real danger or heartache. It was such a poignant reminder to appreciate.
