It Was The Fest Of Times…

Renaissance/Medieval festival season has begun, along with an array of Comic Cons and fan events. Our household is presently making important decisions about what to wear. We’re scurrying to locate our rubber elf ears, making sure our fairy wings aren’t bent, and checking to see if our wee pots of glitter have expired.

We are itching to get out there and be silly, to not act our age. We’re dying to play and pretend. And if you’ve ever been to one of these events, you’ll know that it entirely common for responsible, mature adults to get unapologetically ridiculous at them.

There are volumes of studies on the value of play for children. Play is an opportunity for them to follow a progression of ideas, to plan, to communicate, problem solve, compare and contrast, to expend extra energy, and to develop the hands-on skills necessary to one  day care for themselves and others. Play basically allows kids to practice being human.

Of course, these festivals and gatherings are family-friendly, and there are plenty of kids there, but they typically centre around big people. Big people don’t need to practice doing grown-up things. We’ve already learned most of what they need to do in order to survive. For no developmental reason, fully-grown humans put hours and hours into their costumes, partake of treats from days of yore, and enjoy all manner of imaginariness. Why is that? Why do a whole bunch of us feel the need to make believe and celebrate the mystical, magical, made-up side of things?

Please note that I’m not a neuroscientist or a psychologist, and I’m speaking from my own seeking of whimsy, but I have a theory. Yes, we look cute dressed as mythical creatures and lords and ladies of yore. It’s also an extremely geeky thing to do, and it scratches that itch for a lot of us, but it seems like more than that. I think older humans do all of this because we are in desperate need of a mental reboot. Yes, it’s fun and novel, but I sincerely believe that there’s a need to reset our reality every so often. Festival season is all about indulging in “what if” after the giant wall of “nope” that everyday adult life puts up. It’s nice to have a little “maybe”, “why not”, “let’s see”, or “let’s try” every so often.

Recall, if you will, Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”. A bunch of grown-up humans with a bunch of grown-up, human problems, fumble into the woods. They have their minds scrambled by a playful bunch of mystical creatures. They’re forced to see things from a few new viewpoints. Eventually, they leave the woods a little kinder and a little saner. Things are put to right in their everyday lives because they get their reality temporarily rocked.

If you attend one of these wonderful events, you’ll notice that historical or biological accuracy aren’t required. People, even those old enough and learned enough to know better, come to these things sporting mushroom hats, animal ears, cosplay from sci fi series, and superhero uniforms. Some just show up in shorts and a t-shirt (gasp!). No one gives anyone grief over being anachronistic, or for representing the wrong universe, or for looking like a regular Schmoe. It doesn’t matter if your wee horns are glued on crooked, or you’re wearing Nikes with your glittery pantaloons. Generally speaking, we just ooh and ahh, and tell each other we look cool. We bask in the waves of well-deserved weird. There’s no feeling like a dork at these things. We’re all so utterly relieved to have this neutral, inclusive mental space in which to rest and rejuvenate that we really don’t care who wears what, as long as they wear it with joy and conviction.

Sometimes I wonder how my work life, my decision-making, and my cortisol levels would differ if I went about a regular day in a pair of sparkly wings, or a plastic tiara. I work from home, so I could probably pull it off (with the exception of the odd zoom call). What impact would this sort of creative whack have on my writing, my teaching, and my life as an entrepreneur? Would I navigate schedules with greater ease? Would it broaden my view of what’s possible and what’s useful? Could I become more responsible by keeping one toe in the land of “maybe” and “what if”?

I’ve got nothing against growing up. It happens to the best of us, and contrary to popular belief, we do have a great deal of say in how we choose to do it. I’m grateful that in my adulthood, there have been and continue to be times and places to be the kind of grown up who regularly uses a cape and a magic wand.

Happy festing, all you beautiful, silly adults! May this reset yield rested minds and beautiful, new ideas.