Prestige and ball pools

Written by Ben Tallon

I had to check myself. My grown-up thoughts and the bent perspective on ascents. A New Year’s Day trip to ‘Jumpin Fun’ – a giant warehouse full of bouncy castle surfaces, obstacle courses, a ball pit, and a massive inflatable slide.

You get one hour for your booking and after 35 minutes up and down the massive slide, the kids and their mate retired to the ball pit, which you can play in after your allotted hour is up anyway. I thought about this and I almost spoke up to say, ‘What are you doing, dwelling in this free bit when you could be over there, on that mountain which they’ll kick you off soon!?’

But I didn’t. As I opened my mouth, the words were snatched away by a smile. The three of them were shrieking, cackling, vanishing under the balls, and firing back above the surface like giddy fish. Who was I to pressure them over to what I assumed was ‘better’?

Strange comparison, but I know many people in the creative industry who barreled after the promotion, only to – despite success in the new role – miss the joy of collaboration, play, ideas and the freedom to act on them artistically. In that ball pit, a storyline and a game, the rules of which were unbeknownst to us parents, unfolded, and they were one silly, mucky-socked organism, bonding, finding out, releasing something pure and important in a way us adults rarely do.

I felt good having paused for a split second, to see what was in front of me, the necessity of it, no matter whether it came with the price tag of the big draw over yonder or not. On the drive home, I thought about it a lot more, so I can stay vigilant when I put titles, accolades, and the wrong kind of success ahead of my joy of discovery.