Silliness

A silly Frenchman

Lewis Carroll knew it and so did Spike Milligan. And a proportion of stand-up comedians know it too. Silliness is a good thing - especially in these beleaguered times when old certainties are being washed away. It's tempting to go around with a furrowed brow, speaking seriously and fretting about current affairs and wailing, "Oh woe is me!"

But a dose of silliness is good for you, like a healing balm. Letting yourself go and being daft like a kitten chasing its tail or a puppy cavorting on a beach. We need to nurture the silly genes inside us and give them airtime.

Jack Haggerty

When I walk Phoebe back to our house  after school, we always pass a gateway where we share a daft idea. I once told her that a big, bad dog lives there so we tiptoe past keeping as quiet as mice. She knows it's just a silly game but she will still  ask questions about that dog.

"What's its name?"

"Satan!"

"Do they keep it on a lead?"

"No. On a very thick chain!"

I think that children are much better about being silly than most adults are. In a sense, child rearing and formal education seem to be partly about squeezing out the silliness - as if being silly was some kind of undesirable condition requiring suppression.

Silliness is connected with light-heartedness, mischief, laughter and loosening up and I'm all for it. It's a vital release valve.

This post was inspired by Debra at "She Who Seeks" (pictured above)