“Do you think I feel good? Nobody feels good. After childhood, it’s a fact of life.” -Frank Waturi
This is a quote from Joe Vs The Volcano. A good friend of mine always says that everything in life can be related back to this movie, and she’s totally right.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this particular quote lately, and how easy it is to internalize this philosophy and live it. How we can slowly leak the carefree happiness we once had as children.
It reminds me of something my father told my husband shortly before our marriage. He said, “Well, she can be a handful, but I promise you that your life will always be fun.”
Nearly five years later, I’ve often pondered about the truthfulness of that statement. I’ve always been playful. But I think I’ve lost a portion of it on occasion. Particularly because my anxiety can strip me of my ability and capacity to have fun. It’s probably the single most devastating side effect of my disorder.
You see, my soul craves fun. Not the extravagant kind of fun like sky diving or parties. But the every day sort of fun with a beauty that stems from simplicity. Like dancing to the radio, or sliding down the stairs in a sleeping bag.
There’s been times in my life that I’ve profoundly mourned the loss of fun. When I had extended periods of mental un-wellness, which equated to extended periods of non-funness. (These are totally words. Whatever.) And the less fun there was, the more unwell I became.
But lately, I’ve wondered if I can choose fun, and I’ve been making an effort to do so. Taking every opportunity I can to have a little more of it. Like pretending I’m in my own music video while doing farm chores, or dancing in the rain, as can be seen here.
Society and the people around us expect us to grow up. I can’t even count how many times someone has told me to be more mature, ladylike or somber. But I’ve never understood why growing up means having less fun. What’s wrong with seeing the world through childlike wonder?
It’s my belief that there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s okay to be silly and goofy and loud, as long as you know when to be quiet, caring and compassionate. Life requires balance, but being an adult doesn’t mean we have to be serious all the time.
Some of the most fun I’ve ever had was in the most dire and heartbreaking situations. I can recall countless memories where my sister and I laughed until we cried while she was fighting for her life in various hospitals. But we made the most of it, and when I’m reminded of that heartbreak, I still cherish the fun.
So, I propose we all get in touch with fun. More than that though. I propose we seek it out. Mr. Waturi was wrong. Feeling bad shouldn’t saturate our adulthood. Adulthood should be filled with laughter and bewilderment. It’s meant to be fun.
Great blog Rach! <3