Jumping Back to a Younger Self Brings Joy

I dare anyone in my generation to listen to those first few measures of Van Halen’s “Jump” and NOT think about doing an iconic David Lee Roth leap.  Ripped zigzagged leggings not required.  Last week I heard that song on the radio, and instantly I was transported to my parents’ family room where MTV was an after school fixture, and my brother, sister, and I would try to recreate his amazing jumps.  With that memory a smile and joy overcame me--feelings of innocent youth, energy, and being a little rock star-like.

At my age can I feel that way again?  Laughingly I bet if I tried an airborne spread eagle it would be pathetic.  That begs the question—can we go back to a younger time in our lives?  Or is that moment forever gone, a fixture in our memory along with visions of Martha Quinn’s hair cut?

Last Thursday at work I talked about age and starting this blog.  My friend said to me, “Well, how old do you feel?  Do you feel almost 40?”

I responded with a typical, “Some days I feel like I’m 25.  Some days I feel like I’m 71.” 

Something bugged me about that conversation.  I thought about age and my emotional relation to it.  What if instead I countered to my friend, “How old do I want to feel?”

This past summer I transported myself back in time, not to 1984, but instead dialed it a little later…to high school.  A group of local women and I decided to dust off our unused tennis rackets and head to the courts—it had been a good 20 or so years for most of us.  We all acted a little nervous, apologetic about the many shots hitting the net, all while feeling out everyone’s playing level.  But the overwhelming feeling that became palpable was giddy youth: our wrinkles erased, our mom haircuts morphed into ponytails with styled bangs, and our baggy shorts became high school uniformed tennis skirt pleats.  In less than an hour we became versions of ourselves--as happy teenagers.  Our maiden names came out of retirement, stories of yesteryear spilled onto the court, and our rosy cheeks brimmed with smiles.  Sure, some of us were out of shape, (I admit to feeling that way), but a bigger reason for the red faces was the euphoric joy of doing an activity we all loved two decades ago.   Playing tennis again felt exciting, nostalgic, and youthful. Maybe we weren’t rock stars, but in a tiny way the extra bounce in our step created a confident, shared edge. 

May that story be a living lesson for any of us in middle age.  As easy as it is to view an old eighties video on You Tube, (wow, was Eddie Van Halen’s blazer bright yellow), we can choose an activity to make us feel a certain age that we want to relive.  We can’t be 17 again, but we can do things to unveil that younger soul.  Play a sport we once did.  Try playing piano again.  Make a recipe that brings us back into Grandma’s kitchen.  What have we got to lose?  “Oh can’t you see what I mean?  Might as well…JUMP!”