Run Freely

From as long as I can remember we travelled up and down the country visiting the Fairs and Carnivals during the summer months, but winter was different. If possible we tried to stay put in one place for the whole of the winter months. Quite often this was a place we knew, usually a farmer who had allowed us to stay on his land before. In return for his generosity the men would help out with any jobs around the farm while the women would go out to the surrounding villages to try to earn a few shillings to eke out the money we had earned during the summer. This was known as ‘Hawking’ and consisted of the selling of clothes pegs, Nottingham lace, lucky charms and of course ‘Fortune Telling’. One afternoon, many years ago, I went to pick up my mother from hawking.  I got there a little early so I parked the van across the street from where she was working and waited for her to finish.

As I looked outside the van window to my right, there was a small park where I saw a little boy, he was probably one and a half to two years old, he was running freely on the grass as his mother watched from a short distance. The boy had a big smile on his face as if he had just been set free from some sort of prison, but for me it was quite normal to ba able to run free. The boy fell to the grass, he got up and without hesitation or without looking back at his mother, ran as fast as he could, again, still with a smile on his face, as if nothing had happened.

 It was at that moment, I thought to myself, “Why aren’t most adults like this?” Most adults, when they fall down (figuratively speaking), tend to make a big deal out of it and don’t even make a second attempt. They would probably be so embarrassed that someone saw them fall that they wouldn’t try again. Or, because they fell, they would justify to themselves that they’re just not cut out for whatever it is they’re doing. They would end up too afraid to attempt again for fear of failure.

However, with kids (especially at an early age), when they fall down, they don’t seem to perceive their falling down as failure, but instead, they treat it as a learning experience (as just another Result or outcome). They feel compelled to try and try again until they succeed. (I think the answer must be…they have not associated “falling down” with the word “failure” yet. Thus, they don’t know how to feel they have failed. As a result, they are not dis-empowered in any way. Plus, they probably think to themselves that it’s perfectly okay to fall down, that it’s not wrong to do so. In other words, they give themselves permission to make mistakes, subconsciously. Thus, they remain totally empowered.)

While I was impressed by the boy’s persistence, I was equally impressed by the manner in which he ran. With each attempt, he looked so confident … so natural. No signs of fear, nervousness, or of being discouraged—as if he didn’t give a care about the world around him. His only aim was to run freely and to do it as effectively as he could. He was just being a child—just being himself—being completely in the moment. He was not looking for approval nor was he worrying about whether someone was watching or not. He wasn’t concerned about being judged. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that maybe someone would see him fall (as there were others in the park besides him and his mother) and that it would be embarrassing if he did fall. No, all that mattered to him was to accomplish the task in hand to the best of his ability. To run … and to feel the experience of running fully and freely.

I learned a lot from that observation and experience, and have successfully brought that lesson with me in my many pursuits during my life. Since then, I’ve always believed that in each of us is a little child with absolute courage. A child that has the ability to run freely (or express himself fully and freely)—without a care for anything external—without a care for what people would say if he/she experiences a fall.

I believe that that courageous part of us, that courageous child within us all, will always be with us for as long as we live. We only need to allow it to emerge more fully. We only need to once again connect with that child within us—and give that child permission to run freely, just like that boy in the park all those years ago.

Paul Petulengro

Until next time ………………….

Category: Blog