It was a random weekday night, with a spontaneous invitation to dine out in a nice (without being stuffy) French restaurant. The feel of the decor, a reminder of three weeks in Paris seven years ago. White candles in candelabras dripping wax, settling happily at the silver bases with an occasional spill onto the tables. Stone walls, dimmed lights and tables lined with their best white—butcher paper.With dinner under wraps and a few more sips of wine to be savored, this was the perfect time to use the paper, lining the table, to toss out a few ideas for issues of great importance. Some of the best ideas have been worked out on a paper napkin in a bar, you know?
With business behind us, and pen in hand a doodle happened. I think it was a circle, it's hard to remember now and not really important. What is important is the sequence of events that happened next.
One piece of paper, one pen and two adults. A circle drawn, calling of course for a happy face. The pen and ink rendering grew from there. The pen being passed from one to the other, politely taking turns, giggling like little kids at what the other had just contributed.
Just plain silliness! As the scene played out, we were no longer aware of our surroundings, or who was watching. An unadulterated and unplanned curriculum of cooperation and collaboration. One stroke of the pen building upon the other. Completely without ego and waiting to see, with the energy of "little-kid" excitement, what the other was going to lay down next. Insert giggling after each one's turn. No one trying to outdo the other. An exercise in co-creation. If only this is how adults behaved all of the time.
We left that drawing behind on the table that night (not without first taking a picture of it, of course.) Grinning and laughing at our little masterpiece as we walked out the doors of the restaurant. No need to bring it home to mom to hang on the fridge or frame it for the family wall of fame. Laughing at the thought, now that we were back in adult mode, of who would see it next and if they would laugh too. Or would it be overlooked without amusement and tossed away, to ready the table for its next diners.
Shoulders shrugged, simultaneously, in a who cares gesture. The afterthought of how a spontaneous moment, that came out of the ether, we were children at play. And quite frankly we would all be better off if we allowed ourselves to be more like that, more of that. Lessons are everywhere if we choose to see them that way.
By the way, what do you think of our masterpiece?
