SILLY CANNONBALLS
My boss gave us his family’s trampoline this summer... it took a couple weeks, but his hands finally let go of the years of memories long enough for me to peel out of his driveway.
So far, we've tallied about 1000 hours of jumping in the 4 months we've had it. Do the math. Forget catching a rocket between some chopsticks Elon, figure out a way to bottle the energy of a toddler and I’ll take two, make it three hundred of ‘em.
Somewhere close to the first few evening marathons we found ourselves playing a new game called "silly cannonballs." The rules are simple: say a funny made-up word (often involving a body part and/or its function), make a goofy sound, or a combo of the two, followed by screaming “CaNoNbAAAAaaaallLLL” while jumping sky-high landing on your butt and laughing until the neighbors shut their windows.
Silly cannonballs.
It's free, it's pointless, it's oddly creative, and it's a ton of fun. I hope I never forget the sound of Bray’s laugh.
I can often get caught in the weeds of what’s right or wrong as I invest in this kid’s life. I contemplate the most engaging ways to show up, and rehearse the most helpful responses to his naughtiness (source: Good Inside), and I’d barely scrape by with a C in my execution sometimes.
But on the trampoline…
There’s no rehearsal, there’s no practice, it’s only improv and presence. The most un-rehearsed moments with him are the most successful dad moments in the ledger. Go figure.
If I zoom out a bit, I see a similar pattern in my efforts elsewhere. If I’m in the zone - or as the cool kids call it, the “flow” - I float lightly across tasks and objectives in work or in my personal life - Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon style. Nothing feels burdensome, it’s all silly words and giggles synthesizing in execution and creation.
*puts on pastor hat
In Ecclesiastes, my favorite book in the Book, I consistently return to this verse: “whatever your hand finds to do, do with all your might…” ECCL 9:10. Man I love that - I speak about it a lot, but summarily, it’s not necessarily about tripping over your purpose but instead God sovereignly instilling talents in you that you discover over time, and he says do it to your fullest extent - passion, vision, excitement, effort, etc.
Maybe the vision in your head is that of Tom Cruise sprinting across a mile long roof somewhere in Italy - or maybe that’s the image in my head. Either way, that’s definitely an “all your might” exertion, and most likely applicable. But I tend to leave out a (maybe even the) major theme in the book when I call this verse back to my life that can sometimes be overtaken by the dripping sweat of might: Joy.
Let me digress for just a moment to make a (cough) profound point. If I asked you the main thesis from Ecclesiastes, you might recite the line “vanity of vanities.” As you should, the word is used 38 times. It’s one of the author’s main outcries “O VANITY OF VANITIES, NOTHING IS NEW UNDER THE SUN!” But tucked in there just 17 times, usually as a melody line in the symphony of vanity, is the word “Joy.” It’s the sweetness, the resolution, the main character standing bright in the wreckage and destruction of the pointless efforts of humanity… joy in light of vanity. Is joy a rehearsal, or is it a silly cannonball?
My days are usually spent sweating the small stuff, performing the rehearsals to produce the results being asked for with the talents I’ve dedicated to the latest hours of many, many evenings. But for two simple, wonderful hours a night I completely let go of any pretension and enter the world of a three-year-old who makes zero effort to exist, but who does it with pure and effective might.
Joy. Silly cannonballs.
He doesn’t have to worry about bills or gas for the car, I get it - but the question I want to ask is this: what does life look like if we trade the focus on “all is vanity” for the pursuit of un-rehearsed joy in everything our hand finds to do?
In my life, at least, I have the feeling that if I could do that more often, I’d feel so much more fulfilled and purposeful in my pursuit of…anything. I get stuck in the minutia of right or wrong - maybe you do to - I’d do better to let it fly a bit more, show up without major expectations, tuck the chin and grab the knees and let the trampoline catch and catapult me back to the moon, and say some made up nonsense in the process (pro tip: “booty” or “fart” gets some of the deepest laughs).