I am always astonished when a stranger's child catches my shoots me a dazzling, genuine smile. The kind that seems to stem from true happiness and interest in the world around them. A kind of freedom.
Over time, this joie de vivre seems to dissipate. Sure, we adults enjoy stuff, but we're not going to let some stranger know about it. That genuine smile evolves into a kind of strange, obligatory grimace. It happens all the time: you realize that you have inadvertently caught the eye of a stranger and you turn the corners of your mouth up in a cheap, fake smile. This process is so automatic that you freeze this expression and only remember to change it a few seconds after looking away. Is trading in your outgoing interest in life for bizzare social mores a necessary part of becoming an adult? No wonder "unadulterated" is such a positive term.
This morning I was skating down the Greenway and a woman heading the opposite direction shot me one of those big kid smiles. Thinking about this, I realized that this acutally happens a lot on city paths. You're working out, jammin' to good tunes and you spot someone having a similarly good time. For half a second, you connect with that stranger and share a look that says, "isn't it great to be out here on such a nice day?" Maybe becoming an adult means getting a little more selective with genuine smiles.
The whole experience must have put me in a good mood. When I got back into the building I held the door for someone who seemed pleasantly surprised and genuinely grateful. Later, someone stopped me on the street and observed how buoyant and joyful I was and how nice it was to see that. It was mainly a pickup line, but I'll take it! I suggested that perhaps I brightened his day just a little and he could spread the joy to someone else.
Says a lot for having access to a good park and trail system. Thanks, trail lady!