How Much Fun Can You Have?
My family was gathered at my aunt’s house in celebration of her 85th birthday. As is my usual custom, I body swerve the adults and hang with my sister’s three oldest children who just might be my greatest teachers.
Julia, the oldest at 11 teaches me about determination and self-confidence. Nine year old Kaitlyn teaches me about creativity and willingness to believe in things unseen as we hunt among the peony bushes for faeries and gnomes. And then, there is James.
Our James is a little sprite at 7 who actually does slightly resemble Smeagle/Gollum from Lord of the Rings, only with much better teeth, more hair, and a twinkle in his eye that could only rival that of jolly old Saint Nick.
Until that day, James, in all of his exuberance, did not know how to skip or gallup. After we had played an exhausting and lung-expanding game of tag, I began to teach him these skills, which are so essential for growing up. Gallupping and skipping through the green velvet carpet of lawn, ducking the low hanging tree branches and gasping for breath, James suddenly pulled to a screeching halt while still grasping my hand and yelled at the top of his lungs: “Sandi! How much fun can you have?”
Indeed. How much fun can I have? During the depths of my food addiction, I lived my life as a series of “have to’s”, “must do’s” and shoulds. Life was serious business. I’ve discovered one of my core beliefs says there is nobility in struggle, and life is about working and striving and being a martyr. No fun at all. James tries to teach me how to play. James teaches me that if something is worth doing, it is worth doing in the messiest, loudest, rowdiest way possible. I love this about him, and I love that I am open enough to recognize God winking and saying "Lighten up," through the tremulous voice of a seven year old. This grabbing at the world with both hands to get his share is something I am just learning about.
And when I forget to keep my fun tank filled because I’ve reverted to this serious business of living, there is always Sacred Hunger to remind me that life is out of balance. When I am not having enough fun, I get cranky. Fast. When I am not looking at the world with a sense of wonder and awe in the way that our James does, I start wanting to look for sweetness, wonder, and awe in chocolate. Eating in healthy, life-enhancing ways becomes just another should, must, and ought to, and rebellion is just a stone’s throw away. I am Hungry.
Sacred Hunger calls my name in the voice of James that echoes in my heart whispering “How Much Fun Can You Have?” As I relax into play, the Sacred Hunger is satisfied and food is just food instead of the center of my life.
Some of the ways I’ve found to feed this Sacred Hunger are wandering in a fabric shop for an hour soaking up color and pattern. Leaving Christmas lights up until February just because they are beautiful and they make my husband happy. Watching squirrels draw their bushy tails up over their bodies on a hot summer day while effortlessly balanced on a tree limb in an attempt to cool off. Jumping in rain puddles and crunching through autumn leaves that look like multi-colored confetti. . Taking a writing class. Having friends over for a potluck dinner party. Getting beat in a game of Crazy Eights by my beloved husband, who is also a James that goes by Jimmy.
My wish is that this list inspires you to find your own ideas of “How Much Fun Can You Have?” Oh playmate, come out and play with me….and tell me….How can play become your personal answer to Sacred Hunger?
Blessed Be.
Sandi
Julia, the oldest at 11 teaches me about determination and self-confidence. Nine year old Kaitlyn teaches me about creativity and willingness to believe in things unseen as we hunt among the peony bushes for faeries and gnomes. And then, there is James.
Our James is a little sprite at 7 who actually does slightly resemble Smeagle/Gollum from Lord of the Rings, only with much better teeth, more hair, and a twinkle in his eye that could only rival that of jolly old Saint Nick.
Until that day, James, in all of his exuberance, did not know how to skip or gallup. After we had played an exhausting and lung-expanding game of tag, I began to teach him these skills, which are so essential for growing up. Gallupping and skipping through the green velvet carpet of lawn, ducking the low hanging tree branches and gasping for breath, James suddenly pulled to a screeching halt while still grasping my hand and yelled at the top of his lungs: “Sandi! How much fun can you have?”
Indeed. How much fun can I have? During the depths of my food addiction, I lived my life as a series of “have to’s”, “must do’s” and shoulds. Life was serious business. I’ve discovered one of my core beliefs says there is nobility in struggle, and life is about working and striving and being a martyr. No fun at all. James tries to teach me how to play. James teaches me that if something is worth doing, it is worth doing in the messiest, loudest, rowdiest way possible. I love this about him, and I love that I am open enough to recognize God winking and saying "Lighten up," through the tremulous voice of a seven year old. This grabbing at the world with both hands to get his share is something I am just learning about.
And when I forget to keep my fun tank filled because I’ve reverted to this serious business of living, there is always Sacred Hunger to remind me that life is out of balance. When I am not having enough fun, I get cranky. Fast. When I am not looking at the world with a sense of wonder and awe in the way that our James does, I start wanting to look for sweetness, wonder, and awe in chocolate. Eating in healthy, life-enhancing ways becomes just another should, must, and ought to, and rebellion is just a stone’s throw away. I am Hungry.
Sacred Hunger calls my name in the voice of James that echoes in my heart whispering “How Much Fun Can You Have?” As I relax into play, the Sacred Hunger is satisfied and food is just food instead of the center of my life.
Some of the ways I’ve found to feed this Sacred Hunger are wandering in a fabric shop for an hour soaking up color and pattern. Leaving Christmas lights up until February just because they are beautiful and they make my husband happy. Watching squirrels draw their bushy tails up over their bodies on a hot summer day while effortlessly balanced on a tree limb in an attempt to cool off. Jumping in rain puddles and crunching through autumn leaves that look like multi-colored confetti. . Taking a writing class. Having friends over for a potluck dinner party. Getting beat in a game of Crazy Eights by my beloved husband, who is also a James that goes by Jimmy.
My wish is that this list inspires you to find your own ideas of “How Much Fun Can You Have?” Oh playmate, come out and play with me….and tell me….How can play become your personal answer to Sacred Hunger?
Blessed Be.
Sandi
posted by No Longer Blogging | 5:53 PM
2 Comments:
Well written Sandi! I LOVE the idea of fun as an antidote to the "serious business of living".
In my case, it was going to the rink on Monday night w/ my son, nobody else was there, it was snowing just so, the only sound was of his skates and pucks whizzing by my head. It was the best night I have had in a long time!
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