I’m sitting on the balcony in an Orlando resort, overlooking the golf course. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, and the temperature is perfect. Three men are putting on the green and then move on to the next hole. Entering the course behind them are two small boys. They run across the golf course and explore the terrain. They tumble to the ground and roll, eager to experience a great big world. They run to a sand trap and skip across it to the other side.

Uninhibited they explore the course as fast as their little legs can carry them. One minute they’re racing a golf cart and the next they’re picking their way through the rough. Full of energy and life, their arms swing as they climb a hill, then plop to the ground rolling. Free, limitless.

In and out of sand traps that hold no meaning for them, but fun sand boxes. The golfers would see these traps as negative, a deterrent, something to keep them from winning the game. But the boys don’t interpret them that way. Quite the reverse. The boys are outside the game. Beyond the confines and limits of the man-made rules. For them, the green isn’t reverenced. The traps aren’t pitfalls and the rough is a fun place to explore.

Perspective is everything, isn’t it? What if all the rules and limits I place on myself meant no more to me than rough and traps to a 10-year-old boy oblivious to the game of golf? What joy, elation and energy might burst forth for me if I set aside my inhibitions and preconceived notions about the man-made rules of life and business?

From this perspective might I see challenges not as adversity, but as fun places to explore?

These boys simply are. There’s no grand objective, no pressing goal. Happiness and exploration are their objectives. They do no harm to others in this pursuit, but with childlike wonder and innocence, they embrace the world. Grateful, giddy to be alive.

Is this why Jesus admonished us to be like little children? Inquisitive, open, teachable, unburdened by men’s perceptions?

I ran across this story in an article by Spencer W. Kimball and thought it compelling:

“I am reminded of an article I read some years ago about a group of men who had gone to the jungles to capture monkeys. They tried a number of different things to catch the monkeys, including nets. But finding that the nets could injure such small creatures, they finally came upon an ingenious solution. They built a large number of small boxes, and in the top of each, they bored a hole just large enough for a monkey to get his hand into. They then set these boxes out under the trees and in each one they put a nut that the monkeys were particularly fond of.

When the men left, the monkeys began to come down from the trees and examine the boxes. Finding that there were nuts to be had, they reached into the boxes to get them. But when a monkey would try to withdraw his hand with the nut, he could not get his hand out of the box because his little fist, with the nut inside, was now too large.

At about this time, the men would come out of the underbrush and converge on the monkeys. And here is the curious thing: When the monkeys saw the men coming, they would shriek and scramble about with the thought of escaping; but as easy as it would have been, they would not let go of the nut so that they could withdraw their hands from the boxes and thus escape. The men captured them easily.”

It made me think. What objects, old beliefs, habit patterns, or aspirations am I holding onto that I should release in order to maintain my freedom? What do I focus on so much I put my freedom in jeopardy? Ever thought about that?

* Spencer W. Kimball, “The False Gods We Worship,” August 1977 Enisgn