I remember when I was young, and the world held
endless possibilities. When I could hold up a tree branch and feel
Herculean. When I would ride a bicycle with no hands, and I would fly. When each new experience held for me wonder, and hope, and awe. And I remember thinking how good it could all be someday.
And then I remember the night it all shattered. Surely this was not the exact night. And certainly there is no single event that caused the hope and confidence to flee. But I vividly remember the night it dawned on me that maybe
my childhood optimism was a hoax. A put on by some
evil force...or maybe
God.
It was
Halloween my freshman year of high school. I sat in the office/study of my mother's house and watched the hopeful children, dressed as their heroes or their
villains, approach our door. They would ring the doorbell. I would get up slowly, grab the bowl of candy, put on my
best smile and tell them to take all the candy they desired. Their eyes lighting up only made me feel more dejected, more alone.
Why is it, when I am
wallowing in a scared and lonely world, that I always pull out my best face costume? The costume with the charismatic smile and the witty laugh, and I try my best to make those around me feel important, loved and, most importantly, like they are getting away with something. There is nothing more
satisfying than making someone feel like they are getting away with something. There exists in these eyes a certain sparkle of the
harmless thief. The quick,
dirty word. The stolen
inappropriate glance. It is these times, when we are supposedly at our worst, that I think the best and most powerful sides of our personalities come out. It is not my good deeds that define me. My good deeds are
shallow and self centered. It is, rather, my hidden longings, my too sharp tongue, my willingness to step to that line,
the proverbial line, and then to step over it in a
spirit of defiance. This is
personality.
I am not speaking of evil. Instead I speak of the satisfaction of the harmless outburst of spirit, the naughtiness of the
little boy and girl playing doctor, the insatiable curiosity of the young that drives them to do those things which push the line. These are the indiscretions I am speaking of. These are the moments I most enjoy. Because these moments, more than any other, offer up the
limitless possibilities of human nature. They scream of the great creatures we have been made into. Any slightly wrong deed that can be immediately disarmed with a shy and
cunning smile is, in my book, not a wrong deed at all, but an outpouring of the
insatiable spirit of the
creator in all of us. It is these deeds that keep me alive.
Watch a
five year old child, convince them they're getting away with something small, and see the
world of possibility light up in their
eyes.