It's astonishing. Kids are so structured from the beginning of the day. They have structured play, structured soccer lessons on top of their structured violin lessons. The whole point of play is that it's not structured, that you can take chances.
I think [too much structure] inhibits exuberance. It inhibits imagination. It's not good from the point of view of psychopathology.
Take ADHD [attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder]. Can you imagine putting 7-year-old rhesus monkeys in a classroom and having them sit there all day in their chairs with pens strapped to their paws? It's an abomination of nature, and we're expecting it of kids more and more. Recess is gone in many schools. Public pools are taking away diving boards. It's outrageous.
You use the word "galumphing" in the book. It's a great word. How does one galumph?
Galumphing is that quality of constantly playing, constantly throwing the ball out and running after it.
Lewis Carroll uses it in "Through the Looking Glass." It sounds like it is -- it has that triumphant mood about it. It is a childlike quality that drops off after a person reaches a certain age and becomes aware from peers that they've got to rein it in.
But galumphing is what you see in great intellects -- that capacity to keep wandering, keep playing. Carter Brown [the late former director of the National Gallery of Art] had it -- constantly hands up in the air, in love with life, in love with art, in love with teaching.
Jim Watson [co-discoverer of the structure of DNA], always playing. My husband -- like a lot of scientists -- his mind was like a ferret's cage, all these little boxes. He'd be off in one of his little rooms, spinning his wheels, playing, and then he'd be off to another room and spin.
How can we keep galumphing, or bring the experience of exuberance into our lives?
When treating patients, I used to ask them to draw lists of things they liked doing that were sustaining. They would range from going to the zoo, to going to galleries, walking in parks, making time for friends.
People don't bring enough joy to their own lives. It's not like anyone is going to parachute into your life. You people your own islands in life. You can people them with naysayers, constantly dreary, constantly telling you that your ideas are terrible. Or you can people them with people who are not trying to do you in all the time.
Look for causes to celebrate. I went out with a man once who said my family broke out the champagne if you just walked across the street! We are great celebrators.
A lot of that is wired in, but I think people can build that into their lives, too. I don't know a single person who does not have the capacity for joy. •
Cecilia Capuzzi Simon frequently contributes articles on mental health.
