In the Sandbox #14
Nightwalking prompt
Ever remember going to the playground alone?
You open the creaky chain-link gate, maybe there are some chirping birds hopping around on the gravel, there’s some broken glass, and you shuffle over to the swing set. You try to get excited about that, but just end up sitting there—barely swinging and tracing circles in the dirt with your sneakers.
Some kids happily play together far in the distance. But they don’t come over and join you. And you don’t go and join them. You start to feel a little low.
That, I suspect, is Nightwalking at the playground.
And it’s how I’m beginning to feel about In the Sandbox.
Which was not the intent of it at all!
Maybe it’s too soon to call this “yet another failed experiment,” but I thought I’d just put it out there. And maybe it’s just the raw, harsh reality of Spring 2022—war in Europe, inflation, the dregs of a pandemic, all clanging in our ears. And never fading away.
Or maybe it all comes down to language. If you can name your feelings, I suspect, they’re half licked.
Coming off this past week’s book review of Dan Pink’s The Power of Regret, even if I shelved In the Sandbox right here and now, I wouldn’t regret that I trotted it out in the first place. After all, you gotta start somewhere. Or maybe there’s a future for a In the Sandbag, or In the Meat Grinder, or In the Shark Tank?
Wait, I think that’s already a thing.
So, to pursue the aforementioned metaphor a little further, let’s suppose we get off the swing and go over to the other kids. See if we can join them. Make a go of it. It might look something like this:
Imagine your three distinct selves could introduce themselves to the other kids, as referenced by Tory Higgins’ research into the “actual self,” “ideal self,” and the “ought self.” What might they say?
Actual self: “______________.”
Ideal self: “______________.”
Ought self: “______________.”
Maybe see you in the comments?