Obsessive Compulsive Woman Plays Paintball

This weekend my husband and I went paint balling.  I know it is ridiculous to imagine a mother of two traipsing around the woods shooting grown men and teenagers. Honestly, I am a little embarrassed to even write this post.  This is probably the final dot everyone needs to finally figure out that I am a huge nerd, and more than a  little crazy to boot. 

Having fun is not one of my gifts in life.  I am not like my sister who is just a one person whirlwind party waiting to hit.  I am more of the voice of reason, or more accurately, the voice of worry.  “Someone could get hurt” which, I have found, is always true but never very helpful.  

In any case we set out the perfect fall morning strapped with paintballs and guns and masks.  Thank God for the masks.  The fact that someone will intentionally get welts and war wounds is what makes adrenaline junkies flock to paint balling.  I think we have a little bit of thrill seeking in us.  As for me, I get more than enough adrenaline from the occasional panic attack. I don’t see myself as a violence monger either.  I mean I confess a vengeful streak where I like to see cowboys like Walker Texas Ranger take law into their own hands.  But really, I am into shooting high powered balls of rubber-like paint at one another for two reasons: 

#1- I LOVE to see my husband have fun.  Seriously, he is the most naturally athletic man I have ever met.  Since we have had kids he has really had to curtail his athletic activity so that the occasional leap over a shopping cart.  And though this antic shocks me every time and scares me to death I don’t think it really qualifies as an athletic event.  

#2- I love climbing trees and hiding.  When I was a kid, these were my two primary past times, which is why I assumed for far too long, that I would make a great spy.  Still, even now that I have come to grips with not being first female James Bond I love to be outside adventuring.  Yesterday, I felt free.  I felt no weight of responsibility or guilt on my shoulders.  Shooting and getting shot was enough for me.  I was in 7th heaven.  

In typical obsessive compulsive fashion I have been trying to tease out 5-10 steps that I can follow to have fun times more often.  

Here is what I have come up with:

Step 1-Take risks:  I was worried as we drove up north!  What if I got really hurt?  What if the kids were bad for my parents?  It is far easier to do nothing than to go out seeking fun.  Also note to self: don’t take yourself so seriously. There was a woman there for her bachelorette party and she and her bridesmaids (and mother) were dressed in the most fantastic and colorful salvation army castoffs that I have ever seen.  Seeing her laugh at herself was so refreshing.  

Step 2- Find people who make you laugh and let you be yourself and never ever ever take them for granted!  They are essential to your sanity and a rare gift from God. Being around people who are willing to take risks and follow you into imaginary battle is invigorating. 

Step 3-Never pass up even a little taste of heaven.  I mean I don’t presume to know if there will be paint ball in heaven or not.  I’m guessing probably not, but only because there will be a real battle in which we will be the winners.  The things we love here are a muffled echo of the things that last forever: 

What is the most fun you have had recently?  When do you feel most free?