Fun Archives - Page 7 of 8 - Stephanie DelTorchio

Be Childlike

The word AWESOME gets thrown around a lot.

It’s a subjective word, of course. What I find awesome might bore you to death, and vice-versa. I still love the word because it makes me feel childlike. Not childish. There is a difference.

Childish is acting like a baby or with immature tendencies. Acceptable from a toddler. Draining and boorish when adults behave this way, no? You know the type. Whiners. Complainers. Demanding. Feet stompers.

Being childlike is sort of whimsical; trusting, innocent, fearless. All the endearing qualities of children. I remember watching my six-year-old son’s face as we entered the Magic Kingdom. It lit up. He couldn’t take it all in at the same time. Standing there, frozen, in awe of Main Street, the music, the characters – all of it like a dream.

Adults experience this too. Seeing a natural wonder (Grand Canyon anyone?), a Key West sunset, the streets of Paris at night from the top of the Eiffel Tower — your adult eyes open in wide-eyed childlike wonder. You process this differently than a child but it still leaves your heart fluttering. Is this real? Can I bottle it up?

Trying something new, with or without fear, brings on the giddies, right? I remember my first (and only) white water rafting trip in Acadia National Park. No lying, this gal’s heart raced, and not the good kind! Petrified, panicked, were the emotions bubbling under my surface. Crying for Mommy, under my breath.

Despite all logic to stay away from danger, we paddled hard in the direction of a waterfall. A waterfall! Every survival instinct said “turn the raft around” and paddle like hell in the opposite direction. To calm, safe waters.

Instead we paddled hard and fast towards the fall until our arms ached. At the exact moment we reached the crest of the fall my entire body went all rubbery. Fear. Just over the rim I spotted rafts filled with rafters who’d gone over the fall before us. They seemed so tiny, distant, really far down below. Excuse me, what was the size of this drop again?

“HOLD ON!!” came our guide’s instruction from the rear of the raft.

Hold on? Bet your ass!

We dipped over the crest (I swear my feet flipped over my head) and the raft arced downward, then we were airborne. The bow crashed the churning water and went under, followed by our rafting crew. One by one we bobbed to the surface like ducks; drenched, spitting and choking on icy cold freshwater, unlike ducks. Safe and stable again, we high-fived each other, screaming our brains out, elated, and alive. And like all endearing children, once we realized we’d survived the waterfall drop, collectively yelled: “Let’s do it again!”

BE F-G AWESOME TODAY!

Original graphic and quote: Stephanie DelTorchio
Image: Viktor Jakovlev

A Star Is Reborn

Here’s hoping you COLLAPSE and CRUMBLE. In a good way, of course!

BE F-G AWESOME TODAY!

Original graphic: Stephanie DelTorchio

Unexpected Ways to Say the Expected

I hand you something. You say ‘thank you’. I say ‘you’re welcome’. It’s common courtesy, said mostly as a matter of course. Not a whole lot of thought or creativity involved in this civil conversation. After all it’s a quick exchange we were taught as children. What if we change it up a bit? What if instead of saying ‘thank you’, different words were used. It might raise my eyebrows. Could be fun too.

I remember sitting in an audience when the acclaimed speaker, author and international stress management and humor consultant Loretta LaRoche, told a story that left us doubled over in hysterics. She got to the supermarket checkout and with hands on her hips, gyrated a bit before telling the clerk: “Check me out!” Totally embarrassed her husband but left the audience rolling in the aisles.

Go ahead. Leave ‘em gasping!

Whether in fun or more serious, try to chose words that best reflect your deepest feelings.

Instead of saying: I was happy.

Say: At that exact moment I knew the stars and planets all aligned in my favor; my insides burst open with indescribable happiness!

Don’t forget to gyrate.

BE F-G AWESOME TODAY!

Original Quote and Graphic: Stephanie DelTorchio
Image: Greg Rakozy

Meet a Friend for Oatmeal

Oatmeal is as arbitrary as coffee when you meet up with a friend. It’s the catching up, sharing, laughing and reminiscing you enjoy. That’s the reason you made the time to be together. Have coffee, or tea. Or a doughnut. Or a beer. It’s totally fine.

BE F-G AWESOME TODAY!

Dare To Be Different

We label people as “different” or “weird” or “strange” or “an odd duck” when we describe an individual who is far away from our belief of “normal”.

What is normal?

A conformist?

A rule player?

Someone who looks and behaves exactly like us?

Can’t we be good citizens, productive workers and still be different?

I’ve always liked the term “free spirit” (in the positive context) to define individuals who dance to their own drum. This person lives in harmony with themselves, Mother Nature and without treading on other people’s weirdness. Sign me up.

As a teenager I went braless because I was a teenager, and honestly there wasn’t much that needed support. A pink t-shirt I wore printed in gold lettering was a public testament to my personal freedom. (I’ll never forget) it said: The Itty Bitty Titty Committy. Funny then. Cringe-worthy today.

The 70s hippie crowd, my generation, plastered the country with demonstrations of free love, drugs, and to this day, the best rock music ever made by a slew of musicians and artists who dared to be different.

We were anti-this and pro-that in the face of “the man”. We thought we were cool.

Hairstyles were long and stringy. Fashion styles ranged from jazzy prints, denim, go-go boots to the beginnings of preppy, non-hippie (men wearing matching pastel sweaters and socks) and the two didn’t meet in the middle. I chose the former; bell-bottoms with thick embroidered bands sewn on the bottom, peasant shirts and halter tops that drove my parents’ generation crazy. We were different. And I didn’t care.

Truthfully I was a fringe partner of my generation. More a middle of the road, closet non-conformist who loved the style than a true card carrying hippie. I did well in school, played by the rules and despite the veil of hippie, honored my parents’ values. I did my own thing for sure, but once the 70s moved into the 80s my perspective on being different shifted. The 80s matured me.

I wore a bra every day. My judgment of others became a live and let live attitude of peace and love. As a homeowner and parent, I had mediocre tolerance and success with heavy metal and big hair, but also silently cheered those who lived by their light. Different is still different and that’s okay with me.

Imaginative and creative people are different than logic driven types. Perceived as aloof or introspective, detached or (yikes) insane, those are the very people “normal” society looks to for innovative advances and artistic expression.

Putting aside the true psychotic personalities out there, the certifiably different, the free spirit types spread their vibe just by being present. The hip and trendy cycle repeats itself with each generation. New styles, music, opinions, fights to fight, causes to defend. Most people evolve and change, perhaps substituting one oddness for another quirk, while others get stuck. There’s plenty of leftover hippies tripping in the 70s man.

Before we label each other, we need to understand it’s our differences that make us unique. I’m cool with that.

BE F-G AWESOME TODAY!

Original graphic: Stephanie DelTorchio
Images: Bird in flight/Breano Machado/Unsplash; Hippy Town/Pixaby

You might also like: 7 Struggles of Being a Free-Spirited Woman

Go Out And Play

Adults at play caution befat.net

Play isn’t just for children. The big kids need time out to relax and let go too.

And it’s not all fun and games. Playing relieves stress, provides physical and mental stimulation, and opens up opportunities to share time with friends, or make new ones.

Some of the reasons we enjoy playtime as adults is to:

Learn a new skill: Power Tools, Tiling, Knitting, etc.
Create something: Painting, Woodcraft, etc.
Feel challenged: Rope courses, trail hiking, etc.
Calm down and focus ourselves: Retreats, Canoe trips, etc.
Compete: Team or individual sports.

Many children’s play centers have tuned into the needs of adults to play. After the kiddos are tucked in bed, places around the country and the world, open their doors for adult only play. They feature theme nights (e.g. dress in your favorite team gear), adult beverages, and prizes. Play centers and adult only sports are favored as fundraisers, corporation team building and events and private parties.

Here are a few fun adult game centers –not open to children!

Battle Axe Throwing is popular in Canada and England.

Battle Axe Throwing

Adult Bubble Soccer is touted as both physical fun and great for team building.

Whirly Ball is played in a “whirlybug”, a bumper car you drive with a joystick and a foot pedal. Add a whiffleball. Swat it around the court while spinning in circles, and you’ve got whirlyball.

Whirlyball

Legoland Discovery Centers opens up in the evenings where adults can channel their childhood memories and get lost in construction.

Unique play centers for adults around the world.

BE F-G AWESOME TODAY!

Sources: Battle Axe Throwing, Whirly Ball

A New Day

By it’s very definition, Zen is a total state of focus

Zen incorporates the togetherness of body and mind. Maybe a little “out there” for some people, but I challenge you to look at a beautiful sunrise or sunset and not feel your body and mind come together.

The moment this photo was snapped I felt that whatever (bad stuff) had happened the day or week or month or year(s) before wash away.

With the new tide, the beach is reborn and gets another chance to be a beach.

A new possibility.

New feet will sink in it’s sand, new birds will scurry at the shoreline, new children will collect the shells that gather. Can you tell the beach is my happy place?

“It’s a new dawn. It’s a new day. It’s a new life, for me…and I’m feeling good.”

This is my anthem for today.

Anthony Newley and Leslie Briscusse wrote the song lyrics to the song It’s A New Dawn for the musical The Roar of the Greasepaint – The Smell of the Crowd.

Nina Simone recorded the song for her 1965 album I Put a Spell on You and it became a standard. It’s been recorded by many artists. Listen to her version. My apologies to Michael Bublé @MichaelBublé, my favorite contemporary version.

Please forward this graphic to your friends who need a prayer, a note of encouragement, a nudge or a KICK IN THE PANTS today.

It’s a new dawn, my friends. And I’m feeling good.

BE F-G AWESOME TODAY!

Photo and Original Graphic: Stephanie DelTorchio

Take The Plunge

Thanksgiving Day Swim

Around 8 a.m. Dick and MJ open their front door to welcome all ages to participate in the Annual Thanksgiving Day Swim. They’ve organized the neighborhood tradition of taking a dip in the river for 27 years.

This is New England. It’s cold in the early morning. Air temps in the 20s or 30s is typical; water temperature, 40s or 50s. Snow and ice floats always a possibility. A Turkey Day swim is not for the thin skinned.

The swimmers arrive, dressed head toe in warm gear, towels draped around their necks, some with just a bathrobe to cover their swim suit. Boots and flip flops are both appropriate footwear.

All swimmers sign the guest book -– a signature binds the swimmer to take the plunge. A warm drink, breakfast treats, and then the year’s group gathers outside for a photo.

The procession of swimmers and spectators makes its way through the neighborhood to the river’s edge. For many it’s a reunion. Kids who’ve grown up and left return for the holiday weekend and the swim. As the years pass, older folks (now spectators) give way to another generation.

There’s no official announcement, no whistle, no ready-set-go shotgun. Swimmers peel away the layers and (depending on the tide) walk across large rocks to the hard sand and the waiting river.

Spectators, who often outnumber the swimmers, cheer on their braver neighbors and friends.

Swimmers dunk in and run out. The hardiest (or warmed by liquor) show off with a few leisurely strokes. They wrap themselves in towels and blankets, their frigid baptism complete.

One teenage girl shivered: “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” followed by, “and it was awesome!”

BE F-G AWESOME TODAY!

Images: Stephanie DelTorchio

Walk Across the Bridge

I live in an island town that is attached to the mainland by a bridge. The locals joke about “going over the bridge” as if crossing to the other side leads to some vast foreign abyss. And for some people it might be. They stay, from birth to death, with or without regrets. I don’t know. What is clear is that many people only toy with the idea of trying something new; someday, right?

Whatever the bridge represents to you — new job, begin or end of a relationship, health choice, a new home, etc. –- requires you to face your fear of the unknown. Fear can be paralyzing. Fear keeps us stuck on this side of the bridge. The side where we know every crack in the street and how to side step them. Where the old man sitting on the street corner waves when we drive by because he knows us by name. It’s familiar, and safe.

By staying on this side of the bridge we may never know what else is out there. Maybe it’s better, maybe not.

Don’t buy into the “grass is always greener” nonsense. This is spoken by people afraid to try a different brand of sliced bread.

Any deviation from the same, regular, predictable behavior is blasphemy. I heard this when I dared to move off the island.

You are here to explore and expand beyond your fenced in safe little yard. To not do so is to cheat yourself of what could be.

The challenge is to go over the bridge. Pack up your fears and worries and stomach butterflies and go. Crawl, walk, run or skip over. It doesn’t matter. Just go.

You can always come back over the bridge, but never in the same way.

BE F-G AWESOME TODAY!

Poem and original graphic: Stephanie DelTorchio

Eat The Cookies

This blue can of Danish butter cookies was a reliable staple in my grandmother’s cupboard. She’d offer these sweet treats with Lipton tea, served in a china tea cup and saucer, because mugs were for hot coffee served to men in diners. She took her training us to be ladies and gentlemen very seriously.

I bought the exact same brand the other day and enjoyed a tea party with my four-year-old grandson. We peeled the tape that sealed the lid and spent a good length of time inspecting the variety of butter cookies. Two layers of cookies, separated by a sheet of paper; each layer with individual paper sleeves, three cookies in each. My grandmother allowed us three cookies and I followed tradition.

After we each ate three, he decided it would be okay if had just one more. His mother was at work, so I agreed. I didn’t worry about spoiling dinner, caloric intake or grams of sugar. We talked about making cookies, decorating cookies, what little kids had made these cookies — hopefully none I said.

He returned the tin to the cabinet and asked that instead of dinner, if we could have a tea party. An excellent idea.

“What do we do when they’re all gone?” I asked.

“Go to the store and get some more.”

Why didn’t I think of that?

BE F-G AWESOME TODAY!