Once, a long time ago, Mr. Anthony began senior school assemblies reading from the Book of Awesome. It was a book about the simple and the brilliant. Amidst the sometimes frenzied busy days, it was relieving to hear small pockets of joyful appreciation of tiny things. It was like he was saying, “Slow down, breathe, be grateful and smile.” Let’s take a fat minute to enjoy the small stuff, he seemed to be saying, we’ll figure out the big stuff in due time. It was pretty worthwhile advice, and a book worth revisiting. Here are some things that are awesome.
It starts with a wisp of rumours, of mere hope. It’s recess and you’re hungry. There may be, just may be, freshly baked cookies in the cafeteria. So you drop what you’re doing, because, priorities right?, and make a beeline to the cafe. And then it hits you before you get there, the sweet, cuddly, warm wafting smell of out-of-the-oven cookies. Oh no, what if they’re sold out? You quickly flash your card and bust in, and there, in all their delicious gooey glory, sit the cookies. You cradle one in your hands, buy it, and bite slowly in. Awesome.
Trudging the forever distance from the school to the gym is one of the greatest acts of drudgery ever. Add in dark, depressing skies with virtually no sunlight, and each step seems to get heavier and heavier. First decision, to go in front or behind the junior school. Today, you decide to go in front, but, as you make the trek, you have to stop, for suddenly a bubbling stream of small grey humanity crosses in front of you, giggling, laughing, and shouting excitedly. It’s junior kindergarten and they’re wearing their grey sweatshirt sweatpants uniforms. Oh, to be that young and innocent again. Oh, to wear those grey sweats again. Either nostalgia sweeps over you because that was once you, or happy envy, because you wish you were wearing those precious grey sweats and running to the playground right now. Either way, it’s awesome.
It’s either been a long practice in the rain or a long rainy walk home. You are soaked. Your feet are soaked. When you get home you kick off your shoes, and you forget about them. The next day, you groan, because you have to put them back on, and you know your shoes will be moist and disgusting and yucky. Moist shoes are the worst. But through some warm air venting or just plain old magic, when you put on the shoes, they are completely dry. Putting on something dry you think will be wet is just awesome.
It happens to all of us. You are loaded with stuff. Tests, essays, presentations, a Harkness or homework. And before you know it, that thing is due and you haven’t done anything and you haven’t prepared and you’re not ready. You come to school just dreading that class, trying to think of an excuse or a way out. But wait, what’s this rumour you hear? Can it be? For some reason or another, the teacher is postponing that thing. You go and ask, and it’s true! Disaster averted. Relief. A battle for another day. A soul crushing deadline being moved is so awesome.
The bell rings. It’s been a long, stressful day, so you whip out your phone for quick little game of Clash Royale before you go home. You’re pushing trophies and one more win gets you to the end of trophy road. Pressure time. You’re in an intense battle, and it comes down to this. You just know your opponent will launch a goblin barrel at your nearly dead tower, and your log is out of cycle, so you hammer your finger on your rocket. Will it get there in time? You hold your breathe and, by half a second, boom goes your opponent’s tower and you win! You let out a primal scream of joy. Winning with less than 10 HP, awesome!
It’s the end of term assembly, and either winter break, spring break, or summer break is a mere hour away. You patiently sit through speeches and awards and whatnot. Then the term end presentation comes, and it’s fun and great and a good time. Finally, someone is saying to stack the chairs, and oh yes, the break is now seconds away. But before you get up, you take a look around, and you see friends, you see smiles, you see genuineness, you see togetherness, you see affection. The break wouldn’t mean anything if this large hodgepodge group of teenagers and adults weren’t here as part of your life. This big group of people that drive you crazy, and make you work hard, and talk to you about stupid and deep stuff, and support and love you, and make the days somehow long and short at the same time. It’s a fleeting second. But wow, just wow. You get to be part of it all. Awesome.
When I think back on those days, I really appreciate what Mr. Anthony was doing. He’s a really busy person, looking after so many operational details and managing people and dealing with finances and budgets. He’s also a visionary, and he’s setting tone and culture and pumping life into what our school could be and should be and will be. But for the cheap cost of a quick minute, when he was reading from a page of a book, he was celebrating pauses, reminding us to steal a chuckle whenever and wherever we could, and making a cultural and personal influence on us without us really knowing. Years later, it still resonates with me. Sneaky influencing, I guess that’s what leaders do. Mr. Anthony was and still is awesome.
Neil Pasricha, the author of the Book of Awesome, sums it up quite nicely. He said, “Life is so great that we only get a tiny moment to enjoy everything we see. And that moment is right now. And that moment is counting down. And that moment is always, always fleeting. You will never be as young as you are right now. We’re all going to get old one day. So, let’s just love the age we’ve got and let’s not crave the age we’re not. Amen, sing it to your mama.”
Awesome.