Of Children and Geniuses and Madmen

"A child has no trouble believing the unbelievable, nor does the genius or the madman. It's only you and I, with our big brains and our tiny hearts, who doubt and overthink and hesitate." Steven Pressfield

It was my lunch break and I was out running errands. As I walked across the parking lot, I heard someone call out to me, and it was a friend I had not seen for a while. She was sitting in her car, and I walked over to say hello. We were all cheery, hi, how are you, and so on, but I was really anxious to see if her daughter was in her car seat in the back seat. She was, and I looked in, kind of reserved and respectful, not sure if she would remember me. I don't like to be that person who invades the space of babies and small children. I didn't want to scare her or upset her. She saw me and her serious face burst into the biggest smile ever, then as I talked to her, her little legs and arms started to wiggle with joy.

Of course, it was wonderful to see her mother, and we talked about how it had been too long since we had gotten together. How maybe on one of my days off soon, we should go to the beach.  But it really delighted me to see her toddler, and I think it's partly because she was so excited to see me. She certainly remembered me.

To be greeted that way is just amazing. It's the way my grandchildren scream, "Grandma Susie!" and the expressions on their faces. It's the way dogs greet me, all excited and happy and full of joy. Maybe that is why I love dogs so much, because they think I am a really big deal. I need that. I am not ashamed to admit that. I need to be greeted with enthusiasm and smiles and maybe some hugs and kisses, and yes. Even some licks on my face from time to time.

We learn as we grow older to become more reserved, to hold back. We shake hands with certain people. We hug others. We learn about boundaries and personal space and what might be sexual harassment, and I think that is all a good thing. I would not want to change that which keeps us safe and shows respect.

There is a thrift shop I sometimes visit which benefits disabled adults. Often there is a woman in the store, the daughter of one of the employees, who hugs all the customers as they enter the store. She has Down syndrome. She is not "normal," as we define it. Perhaps when she was born, folks clucked their tongues and shook their heads, that she would not be like other children. As if she was less than perfect. She hugs everyone, whether they want to be hugged or not. There is no escaping her. I will admit the first time I went in there, I was a little uncomfortable with it, but I willed myself to hug her back and show some warmth to her. I did not want to be the stiff person who rejects the hug, and then tries to skitter away. She was really happy to see me. Genuinely exuberant that I had stopped by that day. She hugged me really hard and for a really long time.

We admonish our children to grow up. We tell our dogs to get down. We pity those who don't fit our definition of normal. It's sad, because they could teach us a lot if we would let them.

Susan