Yesterday, I was scouring the offices at work for something I had lost, or at least I assume I am the one who lost it. It could have been the guy who used to work there but doesn't anymore--he'd be easy to blame because he isn't there to defend himself. Either way, on the hunting route, I found some sample books that were tucked away in the conference room, books meant to inspire us to develop new product.
One of these books is a little impulse book from Eddie Bauer entitled Balance. I assume it was once sold at the register next to the cologne and compasses, although I can't know for sure since Eddie Bauer closed down the store near my town because it was under performing. Anyway, this book provides simple instructions for finding balance in your life, the balance between a simple and fulfilling life and one that is more complex and might leave you wanting. Here is an excerpt from the introduction:
How to make a blanket fort: 1) get largest blanket you can find. 2) drape blanket across backs of chairs, or other furniture 3) occupy fort. Consume snacks. I did this a lot as a kid. With the other kids in my neighborhood, we built some of the most elaborate forts with blankets and lawn chairs turned on their sides. We sat inside for hours, and we ate Oreos and Saltines with peanut butter, and we washed it all down with a Coke. It would do me good to build a fort like that now, invite the neighbors, and eat snacks.
How to skip stones: 1) rocks with edges, bad. Rocks without edges, good. 2) bring arm back slowly. Stay low. Attempt to keep stone parallel with water's surface. 3) let 'er rip. I used to be able to do this. When my parents would fish off the banks of some body of water, I would skip rocks, which didn't do much for the fishing. I haven't been able to skip a rock in a long time, though. I'm afraid I have lost my touch.
How to make a snow angel: 1) lie down in fresh snow. 2) flap arms and spread legs a few times. 3) Get up. Evaluate angel. Make more. Those same kids who built blanket forts with me also made snow angels with me. There is magic in bundling up on a cold, snowy evening when the stars are out and the neighborhood is quiet, all sound being absorbed by the snow. I made so many snow angels in my front yard, I believe I am responsible for the heavenly host.
How to look for a four-leaf clover: 1) find meadow or unkept lawn. 2) get down on all fours. Begin meticulous search. 3) examine prize closely. Wait for good luck to take effect. This same yard that held blanket forts and snow angels was filled with clover in the spring. I suppose that made it one of the unkept lawns, but when I was a kid, that didn't matter. What mattered was the hope that the next clover would have four leaves and would bring me good luck. It might bring me a snow cone.
How to make a wish: 1) find dandelion puffball. Yank. 2) look up. Make a wish. 3) Blow. Wait a while for wish to come true. Part of having an unkept lawn is having plenty of dandelion puffballs to wish on. As a kid, I was told your wish could come true if all the seeds blew off with one big blast of breath, kind of like blowing out the candles on a birthday cake. I wished on more dandelion puffballs than I could count, and although my wishes never came true, I was never disappointed. I suppose my expectations were low, and the satisfaction came from trying to remove the seeds.
I never did find the thing I lost in the office, but I did find the things I had lost as a kid, a hapless kid who found satisfaction in blowing on weeds and eating crackers and digging into a snow bank on a dark night with a sky full of stars. Remembering these simple treasures of an uncomplicated life made all the difference in my searching.
The people who put this little impulse book together warned it wouldn't solve any deep-rooted psychological problems, but I think they underestimated the power of simplicity and dreaming. I think there is wisdom in maintaining balance between burdens and simple joys.
One of these books is a little impulse book from Eddie Bauer entitled Balance. I assume it was once sold at the register next to the cologne and compasses, although I can't know for sure since Eddie Bauer closed down the store near my town because it was under performing. Anyway, this book provides simple instructions for finding balance in your life, the balance between a simple and fulfilling life and one that is more complex and might leave you wanting. Here is an excerpt from the introduction:
"This book won't change your life. It won't solve any of your deep-rooted psychological problems. It won't make you rich. And it definitely won't make you sexy. It may, however, remind you that we, as humans, are basically okay...So, have fun. Slow Down. Take a deep breath. Things are gonna be fine."For a lot of us, things won't necessarily be fine, but for all of us, following the instructions in this little book can help bring back the simple happiness we knew before adult life took hold. Some instructions:
How to make a blanket fort: 1) get largest blanket you can find. 2) drape blanket across backs of chairs, or other furniture 3) occupy fort. Consume snacks. I did this a lot as a kid. With the other kids in my neighborhood, we built some of the most elaborate forts with blankets and lawn chairs turned on their sides. We sat inside for hours, and we ate Oreos and Saltines with peanut butter, and we washed it all down with a Coke. It would do me good to build a fort like that now, invite the neighbors, and eat snacks.
How to skip stones: 1) rocks with edges, bad. Rocks without edges, good. 2) bring arm back slowly. Stay low. Attempt to keep stone parallel with water's surface. 3) let 'er rip. I used to be able to do this. When my parents would fish off the banks of some body of water, I would skip rocks, which didn't do much for the fishing. I haven't been able to skip a rock in a long time, though. I'm afraid I have lost my touch.
How to make a snow angel: 1) lie down in fresh snow. 2) flap arms and spread legs a few times. 3) Get up. Evaluate angel. Make more. Those same kids who built blanket forts with me also made snow angels with me. There is magic in bundling up on a cold, snowy evening when the stars are out and the neighborhood is quiet, all sound being absorbed by the snow. I made so many snow angels in my front yard, I believe I am responsible for the heavenly host.
How to look for a four-leaf clover: 1) find meadow or unkept lawn. 2) get down on all fours. Begin meticulous search. 3) examine prize closely. Wait for good luck to take effect. This same yard that held blanket forts and snow angels was filled with clover in the spring. I suppose that made it one of the unkept lawns, but when I was a kid, that didn't matter. What mattered was the hope that the next clover would have four leaves and would bring me good luck. It might bring me a snow cone.
How to make a wish: 1) find dandelion puffball. Yank. 2) look up. Make a wish. 3) Blow. Wait a while for wish to come true. Part of having an unkept lawn is having plenty of dandelion puffballs to wish on. As a kid, I was told your wish could come true if all the seeds blew off with one big blast of breath, kind of like blowing out the candles on a birthday cake. I wished on more dandelion puffballs than I could count, and although my wishes never came true, I was never disappointed. I suppose my expectations were low, and the satisfaction came from trying to remove the seeds.
I never did find the thing I lost in the office, but I did find the things I had lost as a kid, a hapless kid who found satisfaction in blowing on weeds and eating crackers and digging into a snow bank on a dark night with a sky full of stars. Remembering these simple treasures of an uncomplicated life made all the difference in my searching.
The people who put this little impulse book together warned it wouldn't solve any deep-rooted psychological problems, but I think they underestimated the power of simplicity and dreaming. I think there is wisdom in maintaining balance between burdens and simple joys.
Comments
Over here we call those "dandelion clocks". Rather than wish on them we would see how many puffs it took to blow all the seeds off and that's what time it would be.
Kinda stupid, but there you go.
Right.I'm off into the living room to build me a fort!
We forget life's simple pleasures in the effort to be adults.
Snow angels must be an American thing. Or maybe we just didn't have enough snow to make them in my part of Scotland. Still, it doesn't appeal- wet and cold back? No thanks!
Kate, unfortunately, my lawn is treated for weeds, so I can't get my hands on a dandelion. But I just might make a snow angel this winter if there is enough snow.
Ms Mac, this book gave instructions for making whistles out of blades of grass, but since that didn't inspire any memories for me, I didn't include it. I'll give it a try.
However, every time I blow a dandelion, I feel guilty, because I know I am spreading them around!
I have made forts, yes...blown dandelions...not in a long, long time. At least not since I was responsible for my own lawn...