Lessons from a Little Boy

I was doing some writing yesterday afternoon in a park along the Hudson. The sun was streaming, the water was still and there was a really nice vibe all around. This young boy, about 6 years old, was playing catch with his father. They were using a velcro ball and the boy had a velcro mitt on one hand, so that to "catch" the ball all he had to do was make contact with it so it sticks.

The joy this little kid was having did not go unnoticed by me and the other sunbathers. Each time he caught the ball, his face erupted into a gleeful grin as if he were an adult winning the lottery.

What happened next was a true learning lesson for me. The boy decided he wanted to get to 20 consecutive catches in a row. So, he started counting out loud each time he caught the ball and once he saw he had a few admirers, he started to play to his audience, which now consisted of me, a cute guy, his girlfriend and their pug. With each catch, this kid shouted the number he was on with total exuberance at the top of his lungs and then flashed us a huge smile, paused, ripped that ball off the mitt and hurled it back to his father. 13! -- pause, look at crowd, smile, throw ball back to dad. 14! -- repeat...

Each number brought him exquisite pleasure. You see, it was not about the result. He didn't say "13 -- well, actually, you know this is great but it's really only going to be awesome when I get to 20!" Rather, each step along the way was savored.

Then, something funny happened. On number 18, he dropped the ball. Well, he did not even skip a beat before looking at his father and exclaiming, "That was a bad throw, dad!" It really wasn't, but I guess this little boy was so feeling his glory and greatness that he was feeling impervious to making mistakes. I'm all for taking responsibility for your part (as best I can) but for someone who tends to feel more more guilt than she deserves or earns, it made me smile.

The boy caught the next 3 in a row -- 18! 19! and of course...20!!!! He was so happy and this time the grin exploded so that I thought his ears might fall off. Then, as if perfecting the art of non-attachment, he took a breath, removed the velcro mitt, and said, "Dad! I want to play soccer now!"

I kind of feel that little boy was exactly who I needed to hear and observe yesterday. He taught me, or rather, reminded me, that this journey I'm on is meant to be savored every step along the way. With regard to my acting, I'm involved with 2 independent films this month (one short, one feature length) and with each I have about a page of dialogue. OK, so this is not my "20" as far as destinations go. 20 for me might be a feature length film opposite Christian Bale (yes, this girl dreams and also believes). Yet through the eyes of my little velcro catching friend of yesterday, this "number" I'm on is magical and amazing and great! It's worthy of an ear-to-ear grin, and it's part of the process to get to 20. To even be playing the game of catch is a gift.

His interest in moving on (and to soccer, no less, a boy at my own heart!) was also so inspiring because in the end, how important is the Final Result, really? I mean, come on! There is so much life to live and sometimes I think we all attach to the feelings and emotions of the pinnacles, too, which could keep us stuck and prevent us from moving on in a different kind of way than what happens when we attach to loss or perceived failure.

The meaning of velcro isn't lost on me, either. It gives the illusion of attachment, of being stuck, but all it takes is a good pull and then, ahh, release and relief. So, perhaps the even bigger lesson here is to look at those areas where I feel stuck and realize that maybe what feels like crazy glue is only, well, a velcro ball and mitt. :) Cheers.



xox L