All I wanna do is have some fun. I got the feeling I’m not the only one. Sheryl Crow
What is wrong with wanting to have fun? What is so wrong in finding joy and beauty in everyday life? Many people, including the person I’m married to, seem to think that there is something silly or vaguely unstable, or liberal about finding fun and beauty everywhere you look. I could be in the black hole of Calcutta and find something to coo about. A delicate little flower growing out of a crack in the mud, a smile on a baby’s face, the colors of the sunset, the way the rain makes interesting patterns on a dirty window. Everywhere I turn my eyes there is a million things to see. I choose to focus on the beautiful and the interesting. That’s my choice and I’m sticking to it.
I feel deeply sorry for people who never learned or just simply choose not to do this. When I try to walk in their shoes and look at life through their grey colored glasses I get majorly depressed. Thoroughly blue, down in the dumps, stay in bed, cry and pull the covers over my head depressed. What a buzz kill. I tease the Hubman about it sometimes and pat him on the shoulder. “Ah my own little wet blanket, my own lead balloon. You could find the flaw in a diamond and the black cloud in every silver lining. If I gave you 5 dozen gold tipped red roses you would complain about the thorns.” He’s suffering from a widely held belief that if you’re not watching out for the next disaster, or doing everything the hard way, then you’re not doing it right.
The “focus on the negative and the ugly” kind of people harbor the misconception that the “seek out the beautiful butterfly” people are irresponsible airheads. That we don’t know what’s “really” going on in the world. Yea, Yea, I know there is trouble in the Middle East, I know that Hurricane Sandy killed a bunch of people and is still making millions of people miserable. I know the stock market went down, and then it went up and then it went down. I know that it is in the realm of possibility that a meteor could fall out of the sky and land directly on my head.
So what? It doesn’t mean I don’t care. What it means is all the more reason to live today as if it were my last. How is moping around, dragging a ball and chain of borrowed misery going to make one single iota of difference? If I take to my bed every time the stock market fluctuates or someone dies in a car crash, is that going to prevent the next event? I seriously doubt it.
Driving down the street in the Hubman’s truck is like riding in a psychological laboratory on wheels. I’ll be saying “Oh, look at the trees, the flowers, the beautiful colors. Aww, look at the cute couple kissing at the bus stop, so sweet.” He’ll be muttering and ordering all the other cars around. “Oh nice, he just rolled right through that stop sign. Look at the a@@hole weaving in and out of traffic. Look at that idiot with his pants down below his behind. Look at the empty stores, we’re still in a recession” It’s really weird. He and I are on the exact same road but we see entirely different things.
You might think that because he’s the one driving he focuses on the errors of other drivers. But, we can switch to me driving and get the same results. In fact it frees him up to notice even more awful things. It’s his attitude, his point of view that shapes his reality. As mine shapes my reality.
Back to my reality. I’m going to defend it to the death! The American Declaration of Independence states that we have the freedom to engage in “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” Maybe I will get that tattooed on my forehead. It’s my forehead after all.
All I wanna do is have some fun!