Tis the season to be hyper aware of the small creatures of wonder we call kids!
Recently my wife and I have been spending more time with our grandkids, age 2 and almost 5. Their wide-eyed enthusiasm is naive and full of accepting fearlessness. I keep asking myself, when and why do we grow up emotionally less open and less hopeful. As we age, there are so many ways we become cautious, guarded and less spontaneous.
If we could just let go and feel a bit more of the vibrant flow of energy that was in us as children, but left us because of deadlines, taxes and cellphones, we might find ourselves better able to remain in the present. And experience more joy, more love and yes…Hope.
I just happened (there are no coincidences) to be talking to one of my best friends in the world, Terry. I remembered the conversation I had with him for this Blog when I first starting writing. Terry is my connection to the past, and his childhood memories are always crystal clear. Here is a repost of that conversation that I think would be good for us all to keep in our hearts today.
The Hope of Captain Kangaroo
Terry Miller has a photographic memory.
I started working on this Hope Project years ago by talking with my childhood friend Terry. I thought it would be easy to begin with someone I knew, someone close to me emotionally. What I found was how hard this discovery process is, no matter how well you know the person. Maybe even harder when the person is close. I was trying to photograph him, talk to him and listen to his responses all at the same time. Afterwards I felt it a failure. It didn’t feel right intellectually and I didn’t think the photographs were good.
I didn’t listen to the recording of our talk until just the other day. What I found in that fragmented discussion was a gem. Terry has always spoken in streams of consciousness. He can mesmerize you. As I listened to the recording, I was able to slow down his rhythmic cadence and hear strong connections to other conversations where people had talked about their childhood. There is a running theme in this discovery of Hope that is about the innocence of children and the way they trust the world. It allows them the ability to hope with wonder and without the cynicism that comes with a certain kind of maturity.
Terry has the same photographic memory his mother was blessed or cursed with, depending upon how you look at it. As we talked, he remembered his childhood (in detail). The comfort of his Grandmother’s lap, the strength of his father’s hands and the smells are all a part of the security he remembers that age embodying. He tossed off lines about cartoon heroes that inspired him, and the simplicity of the black and white TV. Terry suggested that even the consistency of the Captain Kangaroo show represented this comfort and security that allowed us to be hopeful.
And then he describes the life and death of JFK as “one of the most hopeful and yet hurtful and disappointing times in my life”. Is this a metaphor for the age of innocence dashed? It was a rude awakening for many, if not for all of us. How can we recapture the comfort and security of youth that brings us Hope. Meditation? Exercise? Spending more time with friends? Self-help workshops in Santa Fe?
Maybe it would be worth watching old reruns of Captain Kangaroo.
What is your suggestion?
Hugh,
There is a PBS show currently that is based on Mr. Rogers. While I watched Captain Kangaroo as a child, I watched Mr. Rogers with my children. The show now is Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood and I watched it with my grandchildren, age 4 and 18 months. It has the same ingredients of calmness, a neighborhood, and respect for children’s emotions. It gave me hope to see it with them.
Your childhood was happier than mine. I was overjoyed to lose whatever childhood offered and replace it with independence. Hope
may just come in smaller doses at my age, but without hope what are we and how can we go on?
Thank you for your blog.
Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment Barbara!
Keep searching Bud.
My first awareness of the power of sound was when Captain K would make a conestoga wagon out of a shoe box, a couple of pencils and a sheet of colored paper. He cut the cardboard with a pair of little, rounded kid scissors. They must have had the microphone right next to him. The sound of those scissors cutting through was the most incredible thing. I was always so disappointed when I tried to replicate it but it just didn’t sound like that in real life. There’s a word for those kind of sounds. I saw an article on it a while back. That and the magic board are all I remember of the Captain. But I digress. Happy holidays to all the Hunters.
I do remember the clear crispness of the scissors. Thanks for reminding me of that memory!