Like Children

This past Sunday I went to London’s largest botanical gardens with some friends for a picnic. After walking for what felt like ages (since we were all carrying food, water, and other heavy items) we then settled in a beautiful part of the park, clearly disturbing a person who was there, in silence, from her ‘idyllic’ paradise (it took her about 15 seconds to realise the size of the group and depart). The group of 15 was mostly composed of 30 year-olds (some older, some younger) and yet it was as if we were all kids – not because of any inappropriate behaviour, but because of the innocence with which we started to play kids’ games and with which we ‘just were’.

I felt a sense of wonder and joy not because I was in touch with nature (which I love) or because I was delirious under the super hot sun (London @ 35 degrees!) but because I was really comfortable with myself and could see that others were as well. It was just so natural. There were no obligations, no necessity to ‘be fun’, no demands from others to ‘join in’ and no pressure to be a certain way to feel part of the group.

Instead, there was a sense of acceptance and greatness, with appreciation for who each one is and, even better, for being together there. Yet there was no obligation to ‘make it great’ (Have you ever worked hard to make something great, maybe simply because your life feels a bit like it is missing great things? You talk enthusiastically -- and maybe too much, you artificially inflate your “happiness balloon” just to be able to say ‘man, I am having such a great time!’ and you shut that inner voice up, the one that is naggingly whispering ‘no, you’re actually not having the best time of your life’. Been there, done that).

No, this was not it. It was a genuinely great time, no effort was needed nor any complicated tools or drinks. We just became kids again – with all the wonder and innocence that this entails.