If I had my life to live over again,
I’d dare to make more mistakes next time.
I’d limber up.
I’d be sillier than I’ve been this trip.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances,
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would, perhaps, have more actual troubles but fewer imaginary ones.
you see, I’m one of those people who was sensible and sane,
hour after hour,
day after day.
Oh, I’ve had my moments.
If I had to do it over again,
I’d have more of them.
In fact, I’d try to have nothing else- just moments,
one after another, instead of living so many years ahead of each day.
I’ve been one of those persons who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot-water bottle, a raincoat, and a parachute.
If I could do it again, I would travel lighter than I have.
If I had to live my life over,
I would start barefoot earlier in the spring
and stay that way later in the fall.
I would go to more dances,
I would ride more merry-go-rounds,
I would pick more daisies.
When asked “How would you have lived your life differently if you had a chance?” Nadine Stair, an 85-year-old woman, from Louisville, Kentucky, provided these poetic words as her response. It can be so easy to be caught up in the busyness of our lives that we loose that quality we all had as children of being able to stop and be fascinated by the world around us.
Over the last few weeks I’ve been exploring opening more to this playful attitude since I’ve met someone who is very open to playing and its encouraging me to enjoy this as part of the friendship. We met first to have coffee and dinner on the SouthBank and we had been chatting about bringing in the playfulness from childhood into our adult lives. But after dinner it was time to experience it rather than talk about it. We started by playing hide and seek and then tag – running after each other on the terrace under the Royal Festival Hall. It was such a release to be able to play again. At one point we were passing an interactive sculpture that was one of a number along the South Bank – it was shaped like a slide but without steps. I saw it as a slide so climbed up and slid down. Then my friend did as well. Then a young woman saw us and ran over to join in and her friends helped her get up. A man who was with her looked over and laughed but said “she’s not related” – she shook her head and said “yes we are, he’s my brother”. And in that little interaction there was so much. The critical inner voice that tells us to stop expressing our spontaneity. The denial of the playful self, in order to conform and fit in. And also how when one person plays or is more free it encourages that freedom of heart in others.
It also made me realise how important it is to connect out to others who encourage whatever it is in us that feels alive and vibrant. To have that flame fanned by the fire in another heart.
A few days latter I was on the South Bank again but in the day, and as I watched the sculpture again all of the children who went past it got their parent to lift them up so they could slide down, but none of the adults did!
One of the things I’m starting to learn is that I’m an extrovert whose coming out of hiding after I spent a lot of my life thinking I was introverted! So I enjoy doing these things and don’t worry about being seen. For true introverts running around on the South Bank will not be your idea of play and fun! But however we express it – whether at home or in public, it’s a fascinating experience to let go and allow a more carefree expression of that energy.
.Rather than waiting until the end of our lives to look aback an wish we had not cared so much about what others think, how could you start now “picking more daisies”?