This may be a surprise to some readers of this space, but I am not losing my marbles. To the contrary, I am gaining them.
For this I owe my great gratitude to a teacher who interrupted his discussion of Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” one spring afternoon and shared a personal story. A philosophy, really.
Mr. Hawkins explained he kept a large jar on his dresser and every time something wonderful happened in his life he would drop a marble inside. Smooth pebbles, shiny pennies or pieces of sea glass would also suffice, he noted. His goal was to fill the jar, and a few more, during his life. The marbles themselves weren’t the real treasure, however – the act of noticing each special moment was.
All these years later, I can quote only two lines by memory from that Shakespeare play – “Lord, what fools these mortals be!” and “Though she be but little, she is fierce” – but I have collected a rising mountain of marbles. In doing so, I have come to notice something: summertime is marble time.
As my wise teacher importantly emphasized, something need not be a monumental pinch-me event – hitting a home run, stealing a first kiss, earning a diploma, winning the Pulitzer Prize – to be deserving of a marble. In fact, oftentimes the simple pleasures are quite worthy.
Simple summer pleasures such as…
Gazing at the stars that always seem brighter on a warm midsummer’s night.
A sweet summer romance.
Catching fireflies, catching frogs, catching “running” grunion in the midnight moonlight.
Running in the sprinklers, running your first marathon or fastest 5K, running after the ice cream truck.
Enjoying a Popsicle or ice cream cone that tastes better, and colder on your tongue, on a hot summer afternoon.
Sleeping in a tent, be it in the backyard for a slumber party or on a camping trip.
Visiting any National Park – or ballpark, Major League or Little League.
Hiking to the top of Yosemite Falls or along the trails in Ventura’s Harmon Canyon.
Climbing Mount Whitney or climbing a tree more lovely than a poem.
Writing a poem about a marble moment.
Skinny dipping in a pond for the first time – or most recent time.
Wine tasting, pub crawling, beach walking.
Spending an afternoon wading in the tide pools, collecting seashells, building a sandcastle.
Visiting one of the Channel Islands.
Watching – really watching – a Pacific sunset more beautiful than anything on display in the Louvre.
Going fishing, even if you bring home nothing more than a sunburn and a smile and a tall tale about the one that got away.
Teaching your son or daughter to ride a two-wheeler – doesn’t this ALWAYS happen during the summertime?
Daydreaming while gazing off the Ventura Pier.
Spending a week at your grandparents’ home and hearing stories about what your dad (or mom) was like as a young boy (or girl).
Flying a kite with your grandchild.
Attending your high school reunion or revisiting old memories with a college friend.
A backyard barbecue with friends is always better in the summertime.
Playing outside until one of your parents hollers, for the third time, for you to come inside for the night.
An evening walk hand-in-hand with your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/child – or hand-in-leash with your dog.
Riding a merry-go-round or Ferris wheel at the fair with your child/girlfriend/boyfriend/spouse.
Watching Fourth of July fireworks.
A picnic with your favorite person in the world.
Be you 6 or 96, don’t be a mortal fool: make a point this summer to recognize – and savor – as many new marble moments as possible.
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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn
Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.
Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com
“When I was about three, we lived in the desert, in Lancaster. My brother says I walked in with a tarantula in my small hand to show everyone. All my shocked mother could say was, ‘Take that thing outside,’ which I did. To this day I do not kill spiders in the house. Little jumpers and daddy longlegs I catch barehanded, but as I have gotten older larger spiders get caught in tissue and put out.