Don’t Mistake Their Story for Yours

The movie Hook begins with the premise that Peter Pan has been away from Neverland for so long that he has forgotten who he is. He is all grown up, with two children and a high-flying legal job that leaves him little time or patience for them.

When Captain Hook (Peter’s arch-nemesis, whom he now has no memory of) kidnaps his kids, he quickly learns that his attempts to use the logic of his reality to buy them back or to threaten legal action aren’t going to fly here (pun intended). Instead, he needs to do the opposite of ‘grow up’ and rediscover his imagination and ability to play if he is going to survive and accomplish his objective.

This kind of Adult Fog can creep in, obscuring our view of something that’s still there.

I describe this as Adult Fog in The Return To Serenity Island. I’m not imagining something huge descending on us that suddenly stops us from being ourselves. Fog can arrive with a subtle creep. We might not notice the visibility getting worse until we look up and try to see the path ahead.

The path hasn’t disappeared, but our ability to see it has become clouded by other people’s expectations, judgements, and assumptions.

https://youtu.be/kTKrcvfJ15c

Being Told To Grow Up

Last week, I was on the clifftop, saying my goodbyes to one of my favourite spots overlooking the Baltic Sea in Espoo, after a month in Finland. As I did so, I happened upon something that inspired me to play…

A nest full of abandoned eggs.

Well, technically they were small pine and/or spruce cones. But that’s not what my imagination and I decided to believe.

And so I made a silly video.

After an uber-quick editing job, I posted it online and got in the sauna.

Comments began to arrive. The first one said “they are acorns, not an egg”, which was a slightly strange yet potentially endearing attempt at correcting the details of a joke that hadn’t landed.

But the next two comments really caught my attention. One said, “Grow Up FFS”, and the other said “grown man 😂😂”.

I replied to the comment “grown man” with “I was told it was a Spanish slug”, innocently (playfully) assuming he was referring to the slug. It turns out these “killer” slugs are an invasive species that can harm the native ecosystem. He dismissed this as ragebait, refusing to believe a slug could have made it all the way from Spain to Finland. I’m pretty sure he was serious, too.

His comment was a helpful reminder that growing up doesn’t necessarily equate to knowing better.

Then another comment arrived.

“They are not eggs,” it began.

Oh, here we go again, I thought.

“Anyone can see, they are turds from a walrus. Look up in the trees, and you should see it unless it has flown away.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. Especially because this looked like a mature, fully grown adult man. And he had come to play. He got it.

People Can Make or Break Our Spirit

It amazes me how much of an impact we can have on other people, including strangers online. It made me think about the power of words and the stories we can create from them without realising. Words can give us wings to fly and explore, and they can give us great weight that brings us down to earth with a great thud.

My natural childlike spirit tends to express itself through silliness and absurdity. When that element of me can emerge, I know I feel safe, which is an important part of this equation.

When I got back to the apartment, I knew I could share what I’d made with Tuula (with whom I was staying), and she’d get it, even if she was confused about what I was banging on about.

Childlike Spirit

Our childlike spirit looks different for each of us. Maybe it’s collecting things, getting absorbed in researching obscure subjects, role-playing, historical re-enactment, making things, nurturing something and watching it change, or getting excited about stuff you are into and looking forward to.

It’s not about being silly or even about “play” in the conventional sense. It’s about having the freedom to en