Cavort

Cavort: (v) to jump or dance around excitedly.

There was a time in my life when I did not feel as if I was having fun unless I had completely lost control.

I remember being twelve years old and arriving at church camp, running into the cabin, knocking over all my friends and wrestling on the
floor as the counselor looked on in horror at the tangling, giggling mass of melee.

That’s back when I had more energy than brains.

I had more naughty ideas than I did conscience.

And I felt if every part of my body was not moving toward pleasure, I was cheating myself out of the joys of being young.

I cavorted–I really did.

And I’m not so old that I’ve forgotten the sheer random joy of the endeavor. Even in discovering my sexuality, doing it in the back seat of a Mustang made it much more dangerous and therefore, appealing. (Nowadays, I couldn’t even get into the back seat of a Mustang.)

We become better adults when we remember the joys of cavorting, recalling those times when saving our energy was not necessary… because it seemed limitless.

 

 

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Ball

Ball: (n) a solid or hollow sphere or ovoid, especially one that is kicked, thrown, or hit in a game.Dictionary B

Thirteen years old is such a fussy, giggly time.

I was at church camp and one of the counselors had forgotten to bring balls for us to play.

First of all, being thirteen years of age, when the counselor announced that we didn’t have balls for us to play with, we all had to giggle uncontrollably. (You see, that’s the problem with the word “ball.” It has so many meanings that it’s nearly meaningless.)

But anyway, back to my story.

So when it was announced that we were “balless” (hee-hee) we thought that this adult standing in front of us was going to go out and acquire us … balls. (This article is doubling over with double-entendres…)

Anyway, he didn’t.

I don’t know whether he was lazy, or figured there would be some sort of other entertainment for us that wouldn’t require balls. (Oh, my God…)

So in frustration we began a great search across the campgrounds. After about an hour and a half, in a ditch outside of the cafeteria, we found an old basketball that obviously had been discarded, which was about halfway filled with air.

In other words, it was still round, but did not bounce. When we tried to bounce it, it more or less splatted.

But this became our ball for the week.

Since no other circular objects of play were afforded us, we changed the rules of every sport to use what was provided.

So our basketball game, rather than being a dribbling affair, became more like football, where one would run toward the goal, knocking people over, and then shoot it and try to rebound and catch it before it haplessly squatted to the earth.

So by the end of the week, we had discovered that the most logical way to use our hampered ball was to play game after game of kickball.

I cannot tell you how sad we were on Day Four, when the kicked and abused sphere sported a gash and lost its remaining air of life.

As important as it is to have a ball, it is much more important to have air in it.

Somewhere within, there’s a lesson for life, but since I am desperately trying to get out of this awkward column … I will let you draw your own conclusions.

 

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Antipathy

dictionary with letter A

Antipathy: (n) a deep-seated dislike or aversion.

“Let’s take a vote!”

It was the scream that rattled a van I was traveling in many years ago with a bunch of kids from a church camp. Yes, any time any subject was brought up concerning the day’s activities or where we were going to eat, the children suddenly became democratic.

I wanted to be open-minded.

I wanted to be considered one of the “cool adults.” So I gave into the notion that the kids should have a right to determine their favorite projects and preferred tasty treats.

After traveling, playing and eating like this with a bunch of pre-teens for four days, I was not only constipated from the food choices, but also completely exhausted from absolutely meaningless activity.

The only thing I achieved was getting an extra ice-cream bar given to me by the collective horde for being the coolest counselor at the camp.

But unfortunately, the other adults at the camp were not nearly as impressed with my loose leadership.

I will tell you of a certainty that this problem is not limited to younger folks who have not yet discovered the purpose of life. For please consider–there are just some things on our journey that are not up for voting or discussion.

1. Loving people.

I don’t want to hear you tell me how hard it is to do or how you’ve been cheated or how you believe that God really would like to kill some folks. Here’s the end of the discussion: God loves people, and if you want to get anywhere near God, you’d better go along with His idea.

2. “I don’t want to change.”

That is most unfortunate. Maybe when we get done changing, we can give an ear on why it frustrates you. But showing up in a world that is structures through evolution and deciding that you’re not going to change is demanding that your hard head be forcibly cracked open.

Things are going to change and the only way you gain any control is by getting ahead of it instead of having the wheels of progress roll over your ribcage.

3. “I’m busy.”

No, you’re not. And the best way to become overwhelmed is to think you’re busy because then you’ll slow up and end up procrastinating, creating more work for tomorrow, which causes you to appear completely inept.

I am astounded at how much I get done when I don’t take the time to discuss how much it is.

So those are three things that can’t be voted on by our childish whim. In other words, some things need to be left alone and pursued with all of our passion, because believe it or not…they’re just right.

 

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix