seconds: note eleven

Eleven

No eleventh note. I have fallen into a hole. A hephalump hole from memories of winnie the pooh.

How come I don’t know how to engage the playful side of other people?

Well, before I posted the last note a friend sent me a link to a site where a young boy played the ukelele and sang an English song. Only he doesn’t speak English, which only added to the layers of cuteness. An acquaintance joined me on the porch where I was sitting watching and writing and she passed along a friend’s aphorism. Cute feeds us. I thought about little babies, new to life, reaching, or simply resting. Somewhere in the midst of this I heard a young child playing a word game where she repeated some refrain. She was out on the street and I could barely hear her. She seemed to be both playing with someone and playing alone.

I think of the wonderful things people say in childhood as they are learning the way into language before all the rules apply. I suppose these are the wobbles in the spoken word. “Whose this is this is?” my daughter once said. I kept repeating it, until I could write it down. I was charmed. I kept that slip of paper for many years as a token to remind me of the layers of cute.

I have been wondering about the solitary nature of how I play. How I am amused by how things fit, or almost fit. How they remind me of something else or almost remind me. How I am pulled to make language wobble a bit, keeping meaning.

What was that hole I fell in? It was the report card category called "plays well with others." I am sure I always got a check mark. My brother didn’t always. When I spend time observing the habits and choice of spoken content of others, I rarely notice a quality of playfulness. How do we hide from our playful nature?

I wish there were a playful way to object to a lack of playful intent. I’d like to have some quip like the friend’s friend’s aphorism that melted the resistance. I’d like to be the person in the crowd who politely objects. Not enough playfulness here; but, of course, it is not in objecting at all, that’s just digging in deeper.

I’ll just have to keep playing and improvising, saying yes. After listening awhile I’ll have to charm the snakes out of the trees, as a friend said. There are many avenues to playfulness.

But I’ve come to admit that as an adult, I play by myself.