Pause and make time for simple pleasures

I was sitting on the back porch of a friend’s house waiting for her, when I first noticed it. A flood of youthful memories washed over me. The worn green lawn behind the wrap-around porch sloped down toward a huge, elderly tree that boasted a large limb arching across to hold an old-fashioned swing.

The swing had a wooden seat with two indentations that allowed room for a frayed rope threading through it, and the swing tilted to one side. It looked lonely, abandoned and neglected; I would imagine its only visitor being the soft wind that sporadically pushed it back and forth.

I’ve seen similar swings in back yards when I have driven along rural roads in the countryside.

But you rarely see them today. And that’s a shame. They are a thing of the past; today swing sets come with jungle gyms, forts, you name it, the more complicated the better.

Years ago, when children played outside, that lone swing was a great motivator for a child’s imagination and creativity. A kid could twirl around and pretend to be a pirate or princess.

We traveled to far-off lands and journeyed over hills and mountains. We met kings and queens, and pretended we had magic powers.

Adventures on ships and castles were boundless and lasted until you were called for dinner. Back then it was thought that fresh air invigorated the mind so that there was no limit to who you were and what dreams you held for the future.

Oftentimes, my friend next door would come running over after school and we both would squeeze onto the one wooden seat and push off higher and higher, screaming and laughing at our own foolishness. Sometimes we sang our favorite school song and talked about our first-grade teacher and how we wanted to be just like her.

Every little girl with her new school experience wants to emulate her teacher. We plotted and planned. 

Yes, the grass under that swing was well worn; it had given way to dirt from us scraping our shoes along the way. The only frightening part was when my older brother would show up and pretend to be reasonable about giving us a push.

Often we were terrified at the idea that we would end up flying through the atmosphere, which I’m sure would have delighted him and his friends.

Only our bloodcurdling shrieks would bring my mother to the back door. With hands on her hips, it just took one look from her for him to stop.

But children grow up. They get taller, older, some might call it mature, and move on to other adventures. It’s like that song, “Puff, the Magic Dragon,” who lived by the sea in a land called Honahlee and played with little Jackie Paper. And then one grey day, Jackie came no more and Puff ceased his fearless roar. 

Yes, dragons live forever, but not so little boys. And that paper kite faded; his head was bent in sorrow as he played no more along the cherry lane. And this is a lesson for all of us. We need those simple bygone experiences and more of that just plain old-fashioned thinking.

I know with all the new technology, it’s easy to get caught up in a race for quick, easy information.

But in my opinion, we also need that quiet time to think, rest, leave those heavy burdens behind and just twirl around on a lonesome swing. Things seem clearer then. Life seems tolerable. Everything stops and you can live in the moment.

And in light of recent worldwide events, it might be prudent to open our eyes to what is important.

So take a ride on a wooden swing and let yourself go back in time. Life with all its trials will sort itself out, even if it does sound simplistic.