A Call To Childhood

Caroline Watkins
Caroline Watkins

I heard this expression recently while speaking with my parents’ long-time financial advisor, John Wannen.  He used it to describe the life he leads at his getaway in western Maryland, which is surrounded by an abundance of opportunities to not only enjoy the great outdoors but also the company of his family, which to his delight now includes grandchildren.

His expression got me thinking about childhood and how scripture teaches us to become like little children- hopeful, expectant, relentless in our requests, playful, creative and yes, even idle.

Today’s children, however, don’t seem to have the opportunity to play – and dream – like I did.  Yes, I watched the Flintstones without fail every day after school, but I also frolicked in the fields of our farm or down by the stream, usually in the company of whatever dog we had at the time.  There was always plenty of time to “wander” in body, mind and spirit.

An article I recently came across in The New York Times entitled “The ‘Busy’ Trap” really resonated with me.  The author, Tim Kreider laments the “endless frenetic hustle” of our lives, not just those of adults but of children too.

He reflects on his own childhood:  “I was a member of the latchkey generation and had three hours of totally unstructured, largely unsupervised time every afternoon, time I used to do everything from surfing the World Book Encyclopedia to making animated films to getting together with friends in the woods to chuck dirt clods directly into one another’s eyes, all of which provided me with important skills and insights that remain valuable to this day.”

Kreider makes not only a living but a life by being a writer- an endeavor he usually attends to in the morning for roughly 5 hours.  His afternoons are filled with bike rides and errands and evenings, gathering with friends.  He makes no apology for this lifestyle he enjoys so well, yet relatively recently became what he deemed to be among the dreaded “too busy.”

He responded by retreating to an “undisclosed location” in order to get the creative juices flowing again.  He describes his experience, real time: “Here I am largely unmolested by obligations. There is no TV.  To check e-mail I have to drive to the library.  I go a week at a time without seeing anyone I know. I’ve remembered about buttercups, stink bugs and the stars. I read. And I’m finally getting some real writing done for the first time in months. It’s hard to find anything to say about life without immersing yourself in the world, but it’s also just about impossible to figure out what it might be, or how best to say it, without getting the (heck) out of it again.”

I am not suggesting that you necessarily get away for an extended period of time as he did.  Although when speaking to high school seniors about Gap Years last week, I  informed them that unless they choose to be a college professor or member of the clergy, there are no “built in” career sabbaticals.  Thus taking a year’s reprieve becomes a rather tall order as an adult, if not an impossible one.

I am suggesting, however, that we can take a weekend, a day, an hour or even a moment…to rest, recharge and I sincerely hope, restore our “broken relationship with nature.”  We are living in a world where if it can’t be Googled, it doesn’t count.  This I heard in a TED Talk on “nature deficit disorder” given by a 13 year old girl.  It was her spin on a quote attributed to Albert Einstein, “Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.”

We resist mightily stillness, self reflection and “idleness” – much of which happens in the quiet beauty of creation – don’t we?  Yet the latter often functions as the birthplace of vital creativity as well as connection to someone or something larger than ourselves.

How would you complete this phrase at the end of your life, “if only I had…”?  Do you think you’ll have wanted to be…busier?

Kreider writes:  “Busyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness; obviously your life cannot possibly be silly or trivial or meaningless if you are so busy, completely booked, in demand every hour of the day.”  Busyness can prevent us from doing what really matters, spending time with people we love and with whom we’re called to love.

It seems to me that children are our best examples of what CS Lewis once described as being not human doings, but human beings!  They have an untainted capacity to trust unwaveringly, love unconditionally and hope relentlessly.  If you, happen to be stuck, overwhelmed or even – dare I say it – self satisfied and comfortable, you might just take your mother’s simple advice: go outside and play.

And while you’re at it, you might take the advice of your heavenly Father as well . . . and pray.

– Caroline Watkins

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