To live that naturally
I was at my friend Jon’s house this weekend, and he has two little girls, age 6 and 3 (or as the older one corrected me, 6 and 1/2 and 3 and 1/2, because those things matter).
The younger girl is the smallest thing I’ve ever seen that is still able to talk and run around and be a human. She weighs about 20 pounds, Jon said, but it’s like looking at an atom: total energy. She chatted and laughed and ran around and showed us how she danced with their dog, and then she ate an entire muffin as big as her head, followed by a huge slice of pizza, and Jon told me she always eats like that. And then while the grownups talked about boring things like religion and science and writing, Atomic Girl rode her tricycle through the living room, where my job was to be the stoplight and lower my arm every two seconds as she drove by.
We’re talking LOTS of energy.
But then she just turned it off. She flipped the switch. When the moment arrived that she was out of steam, she crawled onto her father’s lap and was completely out within seconds.
I SO want to be like that.
Think about it: that’s the most natural living any of us gets to see, the kind of living done by little kids and puppies. They eat when they’re hungry, they eat everything they need, they run around and use up all their energy to the very last drop, and then they sleep.
They don’t care about what time of day it is or whether muffins are high in fat and cholesterol or if other people are bored by this endless game of red light/green light or throw-the-tennis-ball-to-the-puppy. They just live the way their bodies and minds and spirits tell them to live, moment to moment.
Instead of: pounding back Starbucks instead of napping. Eating what some expert says we should eat. Staying up when we’re exhausted, because we haven’t finished that report yet or we want to watch Lost.
Don’t you ever wonder what it would be like to return to your roots as a 3 1/2-year-old and have chocolate milk and naptime and a few fish sticks if that’s what takes your fancy?
Which is why yesterday after our hike I came home, took a shower, and crawled into bed. And slept for three solid hours. I didn’t worry about whether it would ruin my sleep that night, or what was going to happen with all that laundry out there waiting for me or that thick Sunday newspaper that needed reading. I turned off the phone, got in my jammies, took the mother of all naps.
What a happy girl was I.
Then spent the next few hours sitting in bed reading a book. Just like I didn’t care anymore! Just like I was a little girl again. Just like I was allowed to.
Because I am. Because we all are.
So this is my challenge to you this week: try to stop being such an adult. Don’t wear a watch. Put your head down on your desk and take a little nap instead of hitting the coffee machine. Eat something fun if you feel like it, and don’t let that turn you into a failure or a binger or anything other than some natural-living child who just wants to enjoy this life.
Sleep is a great place to start. When you feel the first little hint of tiredness, head for bed. Stop watching TV, put the book away, and just curl up and see what happens.
I’m serious. I want to know what happens. I’m curious whether this makes us all so much happier and healthier and not so edgy because finally we’re back to living naturally.
Let’s all experiment, and check in at the end of the week.
[NOTE: Before you leave, please go weigh in on potential party dates for the Potluck. Thanks!]
Technorati Tags: Sleep, Naps, Napping, Eating Ding Dongs If The Spirit Moves You
June 18th, 2007 at 5:44 am
I just found my watch, where it had been stashed in my golf bag for oh…three months? I’ll just stuff it back in there, for you, Robin. The battery is dead anyway.
And you already know my policy on naps. (Daily) And eating fun things. (Always) So my child thing this week is going to be not worrying what other people think of me. I have a hard, hard time with that.
June 18th, 2007 at 7:32 am
My battery is dead, too. I guess I can put that chore off for another week.
(Because you asked so nicely.)
June 18th, 2007 at 7:52 am
Heather, yes, please.
Sara, start from the premise that everyone here likes you and thinks you’re terrific. Extrapolate outward.
June 18th, 2007 at 8:43 am
Wait, what are we supposed to do here? Behave childishly in that adorable fashion seen by outsiders who don’t live it 24/7 and haven’t been vicitimized by the No Nap Great Sugar Crash of 3:45pm?
OK, I can do that. I’m always adorable and lovable and don’t care what other people think.
June 18th, 2007 at 8:48 am
I would have gone back to bed today, but the man was coming to fix our door, then the surveyor needed to be let in to the flat downstairs and finally I had to hang out the damn clothes. When I lay down for an afternoon nap, the cat brought in a rodent and let it loose, very much alive, in the kitchen.
How envious I am of your friends — imagine having kids who sleep! Mine have seldom done anything like that. They were whirling dervishes just like your friends’ little girl, but after using up all their energy — and sending mine into negative figures — they did NOT sleep. Instead, they just kept on going, and throughout their babyhood and well into their toddlerhood I dragged around like an extra in Night of the Living Dead. Now, as teens, they are just as bad and seem to do all their sleeping when they ought to be getting ready for school.
June 18th, 2007 at 8:53 am
Children are amazing, and so are you. Keep up the amazing work, Robin. You are a breath of fresh air.
June 18th, 2007 at 9:08 am
Patrick, you understand perfectly. Lead the way.
Mary, so sorry! Those drat kids of yours–why wouldn’t they just sleep? But then, as you pointed out, there’d be the live rodent running around, the people at the door–face it, you’re just not meant to nap. OR you need to go on a sleep strike: everyone else has to wait until you’ve had a full eight, one way or the other. Wouldn’t that be interesting?
Numenor, thank you!
June 18th, 2007 at 9:40 am
Hi Robin!
As the mother of the “atom of atomic energy” I want to say thank you for helping me view what at times is pure chaos in my home through a different lens.
I loved your blog entry and I loved having you in our home on Sat! Hope to see you again soon…..
June 18th, 2007 at 9:48 am
Thanks, Kelly! Yes, I’d love to come back. Just save one of the muffins for me.
June 18th, 2007 at 10:42 am
Very Taoist. I like the idea of wu wei or non action: “work without doing”–something like doing what you do, but doing it naturally without effort. Tough for the average writer who tends to agonize!
June 18th, 2007 at 11:46 am
My watch battery is dead also, but I have way too much “adult” stuff to get through this week, so I’ll have to settle for a child-like meltdown at some point. Then I’ll put myself in a quiet time-out and all will be well.
I have to do my Tuesday book reading entry today since I will be on a plane most of tomorrow: I FINALLY finished The Dante Club by Matthew Pearl. I struggled to get into it for months off and on and I’m glad I stuck with it-I ended up really enjoying it. Here’s a great quote from one of the characters discussing critics: “It is the individual readers who matter most, for in their eyes resides the worth of writing. Writing is not survival of the fittest but survival of the survivors.”
June 18th, 2007 at 11:58 am
Hey, Brian, what are you trying to do–elevate the smarts of the blog? Seriously, thanks for adding the Taoist angle. That’s what I meant, of course. (*cough*)
Deborah, enjoy your full-on meltdown, and congrats on finishing the book. Love the line, “for in their eyes resides the worth of writing.” Very eloquent.
June 18th, 2007 at 11:59 am
By the way, what’s with all the dead watch batteries? Sounds like the kind of conspiracy Patrick is talking about on his blog today. Wish I could link to it, but that’s not in my skill set. Go over to my blogroll and click on Patrick’s blog.
June 18th, 2007 at 12:18 pm
I’m sure It’s Big Oil doing it. They are opposed to any stored electricity. Bad business you know. I’m sure they broke the Russian computers on the Space Station as well…
June 18th, 2007 at 1:13 pm
I’m with Deborah. I’m leaving with TWO children (only one of whom was ever like the two you mentioned) for Scotland on Thursday. My husband doesn’t join us until 2 weeks later. Though, in spirit of full disclosure, my parents are meeting the kids and me in Edinburgh. So, it’s just the 24 hour trip I dread. I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO BEFORE I LEAVE. In fact, I was just getting out my handy “to-do” list. I’m also already in full-on tantrum mode.
Speaking of my to-do list, let me add that my 11-year-old daughter was born with a to-do list, an anxiety disorder, and a fully developed cynicism you usually encounter only in 20 year olds. (She’s never believed in anything–not Santa, not the tooth fairy, not the lies parents tell their children. Though she’ll fake it for our benefit.) She never slept, not even as a baby. My 2nd, however, still turns off completely when he’s done at the end of the day. It’s so cute!
Enjoy your week, Robin. I’ll be with you the next one when I go on blogvation!
June 18th, 2007 at 1:45 pm
Kelly, zip-zip-fast-forward–you’re going to Scotland?!!! How incredibly cool! If you said anything else, I missed it.
Except for the part about your daughter. I need to know someone like that. She deserves to be the lead in a book.
Have fun in SCOTLAND!!
June 18th, 2007 at 6:06 pm
Kelly - take me with you. Seriously. I will carry all your luggage. Anything. Take me to Scotland!!
Robin - I love what you’re describing, but I think they might get a little touchy with me at work if I put my head down on the circ desk and napped instead of checking out people’s books and stuff. Even if I told them Robin said I could. Alas.
June 18th, 2007 at 6:16 pm
Eisha, what’s with all the nay-saying? Have you tried it? Everyone will understand your need for a nap. They might just curl up on the floor and take one themselves.
June 18th, 2007 at 6:31 pm
Yeah, I’m going to Scotland
I know, I know. I feel really guilty. And, Eisha…I wish I could take you with me! And I would never make you carry my luggage. That would be just wrong.
Someday, Robin, I’ll write about my Anna. She’s a character. She’s also, I suspect, a genius, but I’ve never had her tested (beyond the school gifted tests, which she’s always aced), ’cause I don’t want that designation hanging over her head. Much better she learn hard work=something that matters. That’s where the skating came in for her. She’s not athletically gifted, but willing to work to skate. Must be my farm ancestry talking (or, as my husband would say, lousy Protestant work ethic…), but I think hard work means something.
June 18th, 2007 at 6:36 pm
Kelly, I have that same personality. I think things are worth more if I have to work for them. It’s why I never play the lottery–that’s not money I could ever enjoy.
I’m trying to adopt a new philosophy, that if something comes easily it means it’s right for me, and that life is better if you don’t struggle at all, but simply go with the flow.
It’s a work in progress, trust me.
June 18th, 2007 at 7:05 pm
Energy is amazing. I love it. I run on it. I love when others exude it too.
June 18th, 2007 at 7:49 pm
You always make me want to be a happier person, Robin. It’s amazing, this ability to make acting childlike, and doing nice things for yourself, things to be proud of. I love it. (You should incidentally visit the Escape Adulthood website, if you haven’t already - they are definitely kindred spirits).
I’m not much of a napper (I always wake up groggy and irritable), but I am planning to go for more walks this week. Even if I don’t really have time. Because I love going for walks (if it’s a nice day, and I have a good book to listen to, anyway). I’ll see what I can do and report back…
June 18th, 2007 at 7:50 pm
Jen, I’m glad if anything I say can make you do nice things for yourself. That’s one of my missions. As for walking, I’m totally with you. I love the rhythm and monotony of it–really frees up the mind to wander. As Jane Austen wrote in one of her letters to her sister: “We are desperate walkers.” It obviously did wonders for her creative mind, so why not ours?
So, Little Willow, do you have a secret? Are you a napper? Do you eat lots of protein? What’s the key?
June 20th, 2007 at 8:04 am
Robin, great post! I wish I had written it myself. Oh well, I did the next best thing and blogged about it: Living Naturally
June 20th, 2007 at 10:52 am
When I’m on hiatus, this is kind of how my days go… nap if I feel like it, eat whenever I want (which is problematic), sew all day… I used to think I could use hiatus time to write, but I find that when my vacation is over and I go back to work, that’s when I really write. So I’ve actually given myself permission not to write during my off months.
June 20th, 2007 at 1:13 pm
Hey, Jason, thanks for linking to me and then adding your own great spin to it! I especially like your attitude about giving yourself permission to enjoy your life. You need to come play with us on Fridays.
Katie, isn’t it funny how that works? You have so much time on your hands you just can’t motivate yourself to use it for anything serious or important–although I think napping and sewing are pretty important, since they happen to be your way of recharging. We all need that more often than we get it.