≡ Menu

Why You Need A Marshmallow Bazooka

why you need a marshmallow bazooka | with emily

I know you’ve done it. Whether out of curiosity, desperation or boredom, you’ve picked up that magazine in the seat pocket in front of you, the Sky Mall catalogue every airline so kindly provides its passengers, the one filled with useless and utilitarian gadgets. Yep, you’ve done it.

Which means, you’ve probably seen the Marshmallow Bazooka.

the marshmallow bazooka

And you’ve probably thought to yourself, who the hell buys this crap?

I’d like to pose a different question, one that gets at the heart of an Adult Dilemma with which so many of us wrestle…

Who wouldn’t want a marshmallow bazooka?

Think about it. Think about the act of running around a yard, perhaps in your bare feet, chasing after friends or family and showering them with…marshmallows.

How silly! How absurd! How joyful!

How necessary!

Forget for a moment your thoughts on violence or obesity or waste that may attempt to grab a bullhorn and blast you with RESPONSIBLE MESSAGING.

Get back to the kid in you, the one who laughs without censor and who expresses excitement without shame, the one who owns her right to be silly and proudly seeks out opportunities to bask in it.

When was the last time you played with her? Do you even remember what she looks and feels like? Can you replicate the lightness of her steps — or were they skips?

Does even thinking about that little girl make you squirm? Because once you think about her, you’re giving her permission to start doing what she does best:

Why?

Yep, she starts to ask why…

Why are you always so serious?
Why do you care what your boss thinks about your shoes?
Why should it matter that your new idea has never been tested?
Why don’t you like being tickled anymore?
Why are you spending all day doing something you don’t believe in?
Why do you hang out with that person who makes you feel small?
Why are you eating the food that gives you a headache?
Why don’t you still think marshmallows are the coolest things ever invented?

Why?

Ah hell, that can be as annoying as shit, right?

And we don’t have time for all those questions. I mean, really, who does? Instead, we look at the marshmallow bazooka and we roll our eyes and we let the RESPONSIBLE MESSAGING drown out the questions. And we proudly hold up our badge of Adulthood and get back to our emails.

And so the Adult Dilemma I eluded to earlier, the one where we ponder how the hell we’ve lost touch with the joy, freedom and certainty we felt in childhood moments and the core of who we really are, gets put on the back burner again.

But what if you got yourself that marshmallow bazooka?

It may seem counterintuitive but sometimes we must act without grand purpose to get to our greater purpose.

We must do something for the pure pleasure of it. We must play.

And, of course, I don’t mean “must” as an authoritarian command; I mean “must” as a soul-fulfilling imperative, as a hunger triggered by need for nurturing rather than desire for numbing, as an act of unlocking our complete identity rather than the one we’ve gotten accustomed to showing the world.

Would you feel stupid? Would you feel silly? Would you feel guilty?

Or would you defiantly say ‘what the fuck,’ invite some friends to your neighborhood park for an hour, laugh ‘til your belly ached far more than any set of crunches will make it do, and let that little girl have some time in the sun?

She might surprise you by providing some answers to all those questions you’ve been trying to keep her from asking. Or you might only get sixty minutes of unmitigated pleasure. Either way, I guarantee it wouldn’t be a waste of time.

Now, if you happen to be reading this somewhere other than on an airplane, you may be starting to panic…Where the hell are you going to get that marshmallow bazooka? Never fear. You don’t actually have to acquire an honest-to-goodness marshmallow bazooka (you already knew that, right?).

Just keep your eyes open this week for activities or tools of action that make you squirm and make the little kid in you giggle. Then, gather your courage, and pursue them. I’d love to hear what you discover and uncover in the process.

And if you do actually end up with a marshmallow bazooka, you MUST (as an authoritarian command) tell me, please!

xo

Emily Lewis

Like what you've read so far? Get more!
My personal Play Ground Notes arrive in your inbox.
Plus you'll get extra goodies for purpose and play.
It's like magic!

{ 10 comments… add one }
  • Nina August 26, 2014, 16:37

    Yes, to marshmallow bazooka and a greater purpose bazooka style! 🙂

    • Emily Lewis August 26, 2014, 18:32

      I knew this would resonate with you, Nina – and you don’t even have to eat them!

  • Laura G. Jones August 28, 2014, 13:19

    Ah, I want one! 😀
    But seriously, first, this is brilliant: “I don’t mean “must” as an authoritarian command; I mean “must” as a soul-fulfilling imperative, as a hunger triggered by need for nurturing rather than desire for numbing, as an act of unlocking our complete identity rather than the one we’ve gotten accustomed to showing the world.”
    Secondly, a personal story: my husband is such a child at heart. He always makes fun of me and himself, comes up with funny nicknames and silly songs, and just acts ridiculous. I used to be a stuck-up adult who couldn’t be bothered to enjoy it, until one day when I said “what the heck” and decided to take the stick out of my butt and start having fun. Now I laugh with him and I’m working on letting my own silly inner child out more as well. This is wonderful, thank you for sharing!

    • Emily Lewis August 28, 2014, 13:40

      Ah, Laura, I’m so glad you enjoyed this. And thanks a ton for sharing your story! What a gift to have a husband that can pave the way for you to get back in touch with your child side, and how AWESOME that you were able to recognize it and embrace it rather than attempt to crush or ignore it. Huge kudos! Enjoy your playtime 🙂

  • Madeleine Lamou August 28, 2014, 13:55

    Exactly what I need now, thank you! I’ve never really grown up, and keeping a healthy contact with my inner kid definitely makes my life easier and brighter. But still, in the midst of all that business-building thing, I sometimes forget to stop trying to act with some great purpose and just go and play. Thank you so much for such a beautiful reminder!

    • Emily Lewis August 28, 2014, 14:01

      Yay, Madeleine! And yes, remembering to make room for the silly is so easily forgotten by us “adults” but I’ve discovered (and rediscovered time and time again) for myself and with my clients that it is critical for both ongoing creativity/idea generation and growth, not to mention just simple energy/inspiration reboot. Keep at it!

  • Maisie Smith August 28, 2014, 14:08

    YES! More play. More play. More play. People take life waaaaaaay too seriously. Time to shrug off the cloak of “What will people think?”

    Great post, Emily!

    • Emily Lewis August 28, 2014, 15:18

      Exactly, Maisie! So happy you stopped by, and of course you get it!

  • Leah August 28, 2014, 14:20

    Oh I so love how you are able to see something like the marshmallow bazooka (which I haven’t actually seen in sky magazine yet but I can imagine it there!) and take such a great lesson and example out of it.

    You are so right, finding the child in us is so important. I’m a horrible dancer, but dancing regardless, alone or in inappropriate situations, in the silliest way possible is one way I remember to bring back that childhood joy. It makes me laugh and it makes me happy. And it’s so simple! Plus, bad dancers are way cooler than good dancers right?

    Thanks for your words, as always they make me think differently and that I appreciate!

    • Emily Lewis August 28, 2014, 15:25

      Oh, dancing is SUCH a big one, Leah! I love seeing little kids dance so unselfconsciously – the unbridled joy is contagious. What a gift when we can continue to generate that kind of pleasure – for ourselves and for witnesses – even after we graduate from diapers! Get your groove on, chica!

Leave a Comment