Views well (play) grounded

Given that he had toured all the world’s subways and that he was a former combat soldier, a political centrist, firm in his ideals and deeply religious, I was shocked that in response to my questions as to what had most influenced his viewpoint on life, he answered neither underground nor battleground nor middle ground nor solid ground nor holy ground, but rather simply… playground.

Even then I assumed that, as a veteran elementary phys. ed. teacher, it was the sportsmanship, fair play and the rules of the game learned by kids at the playground that had so influenced him, but once again I was wrong.

No, oddly enough, it wasn’t the socialization inherent in the “playground experience,” nor the competitive (or even cooperative) spirit it engendered that led to his better understanding of the human condition. No, according to my worldly-wise old friend, much of his worldly wisdom he derived from an appreciation and analysis of the purely physical arrangement of the playground and more specifically of it’s traditional, old-fashioned if you will, playground equipment.

Thus, for example, “The Swings” taught him that before you can aspire to reach new heights someone’s gotta give you a push, that swinging forward is like a hope, while swinging backward is like a memory, that no matter how far you soar as you swing ahead, you’ll swing backwards just as far, and that midpoint in every such cycle you pass awfully close to the ground from which you started, with little chance to

jump off.

For him, “The Slide” was symbolic of advancement and progress: you slowly climb life’s ladder one rung at a time, linger on top for but a brief moment until the guy behind you urges you to vacate the vaulted spot forcing you to slide rapidly down to (perhaps) start the process all over again on either the same slide or on a bigger, higher or more complex one.

He was equally taken with the “seesaw” or “teeter-totter” wherein, as so often in life, one can only rise if another descends, and wherein at any given moment one is looking up while the other is looking down, and where that perspective (and status)can change in an instant. So too, the seesaw encourages its riders to perhaps find the perfect balance and an equilibrium that so often the “riders” of life find unattainable. Finally, the seesaw literally represents life’s “ups and downs” and confirms, by its very nature, that some endeavors demand and require cooperation and a joint effort.

He then pointed to the “monkey bars” where everyone starts out on an equal footing from whatever direction they choose and strive to reach the top at their own pace knowing that if the top proves too remote, too dizzying or too elusive they can just stop along the way and peacefully enjoy the view.

Within the playground are still other obvious “models of and for life” including “The Maze,” “The Tunnel” and the “Merry-Go-Round”, each a challenge that is often frightening yet exciting, risky yet compelling, and frustrating in the effort but oh so satisfying when the effort proves successful.

Thus, he, who had been so accomplished and had learned so much through travel, war, politics, philosophy and religious, made it clear that real wisdom comes from being sensitive to everything that surrounds us and recognizing that so much can be seen as a microcosm of life.

I don’t know about kindergarten, but apparently much of what you need to know about life you can learn, not only at, but from, the playground.

© Copyright © 2011 Ron Goldman

Ron Goldman is an attorney in private practice with offices in Cedarhurst and can be reached @ 1-800-846-9013