Do you know any ideas who are bonkers for conkers?
This year, my kid is. Zealous is an understatement. She gathers them up at a rate that’s scaring the squirrels. It’s like watching a creature possessed. And whilst my husband, who grew up a geographically conker deprived child, watches on with wild eyed amazement, I’m starting to develop my own theories on this.
This is how I tried to explain it:
– Conkers are power.
– Each conker collected is a unit of power, because we all know how desperate most kids are to get their hands on them. To hold a conker is to possess something desirable, and to see hard work paying off ‘Look at how many I have!’ ‘Look at how beautiful they are!’
– Even though they’re free, they require effort to harvest.
– Conkers can be both easy to share – a demonstration of generosity, yet also hard to part with – a hard earned gain given away with the fear that others will end up with ‘more’ than you.
– They are metaphor for parents, a reaffirmation of abundance and kindness – it’s good to share, there’s plenty to go around yadda yadda.
The pride in gathering so many is visible. Kids can achieve heavy sacks with little help. It feels powerful.
At nine years old kids start to change; they want more independence and yet aren’t ready to drop play and become boring grown ups. They want to be their own person, they often rub up against parental boundaries (no you can’t walk to school on your own yet, no you can’t have a phone, and the like). There can be an increasingly tricky dynamic in friendship groups as this need for independence meets a craving for hierarchy plus all those new and unruly hormones. The need to control something, anything rears up and conkers fill that.
As adults it’s the same if we have accumulator tendencies. There is joy in keeping around the trophies that remind us how special we are. Think of trinkets, ornaments or gifts that are mostly ignored, but at the same time impossible to part with. Think of journals full of ideas or all the domain names you’ve bought for the projects you might run with.
Those are the conkers of adulthood. Special, shiny and rattling around in boxes. They keep us feeling safe and powerful when the rest of the world doubts us or we doubt ourselves.
At some point soon, the conkers will lose their shine – both literally and metaphorically. At this point parents across the land will tip the shrivelled offerings gently into the bin, or back onto damp earth. We will be conker free until the following autumn.
But what about your stash of trophies and treasures? Those tucked away forgotten ideas and projects. Is it time to let them go too and gather your energy for the next season?