Finding silly inspiration: She abandoned premature maturity for mature immaturity

I did not expect that in my middle-aged years, I would discover an untapped cache of latent silliness and mischief that I must have suppressed since childhood.

I was silly as a kid, but it was controlled. I stuck to the mischief-free type of silliness endorsed, even facilitated, by loving adults who led groups of kids in goofy camp songs and games. These activities distracted us from exploring all the mischievous, silly things that broke rules. I was confined to a “mischief-proofed” environment with child locks on the doors, padded covers shielding me from sharp corners and constant oversight. This conservative upbringing successfully molded me into a stringent goody two-shoes, not even tempted by temptation itself.

If maturity is measured by self-discipline, setting an example and respect for rules, I was prematurely mature. I married early, excited to enter the world of adulting. I cut coupons, pushed shopping carts, built a career, and went to church. I discovered that the ups and downs of adulting were no roller coaster ride as I navigated a divorce, a remarriage, kids, healthcare, the hard work of evolving a career, and the stunning realization that as an adult, I have to think about meals every single day.

To just stop adulting and throw all cares to the wind is really not an option. As it turns out, though, some of those cares are optional, and can be gleefully cast into the wind.

I credit my slowing metabolism with this realization. I decided to incorporate more fruit and veggies into my diet, and I must have accidentally snacked on some forbidden fruit. You know the kind: It grows on the tree in the Garden of Eden. The fruit is sweet and juicy, has lots of fiber, is packed full of vitamins A and C, and also the knowledge of good and evil. Once I ate that fruit, I stopped worrying about rules, and started applying my own decision tree.

Is it evil? (Hard stop.)

If not evil, might it be funny? Like super funny? (Strong possibility that I’ll do it.)

Might it be crazy fun? (Very promising.)

Or interesting? (Definite maybe.)

Or kind of fun, possibly funny and low risk? (Likely a go.)

Does it spread joy? (Just try and stop me.)

So how does this work in my life? I now carry a dictionary of curse words because they crack me up and sometimes I like to pull out an exceptionally relevant and hilarious expletive. I wear bright colors and no makeup. I hang weird art in my home. I say random thoughts out loud, just in case I strike comedic gold. My kids’ friends are surprised at how silly I am and hang around for more. I talk to strangers, and the stranger the better.

Prioritizing enjoying life over conforming to “polite” society is not without risk, but I have years of experience and actual maturity to act as a guide. I’m experimenting, experiencing, and being true to myself — and from now on, that’s the rule I’ll follow.

Emily Parnell can be reached at emily@emilyjparnell.com.