Over the holidays I was watching A Charlie Brown Christmas for
the bajillionth time. (Click here if you want to
watch it.) Near the beginning of the flick, we see Snoopy, Chuck’s loveable
dog, ice-skating – just totally enjoying himself (Snoopy, I mean). Skating in circles, big smile on his, just
totally carefree. Then he grabs a bunch of
the kids and pulls them along – we see some of them laughing, others screaming,
and some others not really knowing what to think.
Later, Charlie Brown feels down when he sees that his own
dog is showing the Christmas spirit by putting lights up on his doghouse. Throughout, we Snoopy as this totally
carefree character, always seeming to enjoy himself, celebrating life to the
fullest. Even when Lucy gets mad at him,
he responds with a smile and by licking her face (which, like, totally grosses
her out, but that’s a different story…).
It’s been a number of years since I’d watching an animated
Charlie Brown feature, and while I read the comics every once in a while, the
animated shows are totally different. Perhaps it was the time of the year or where I am in my life, but
something about watching this show this time was different for me.
We often associate carefree with someone who is lazy or just
doesn’t get much done. And so I quickly
realized that I needed to be careful in picking the appropriate words here.
But more than being carefree, Snoopy celebrates life. He is rarely without a smile on his
face. Whether it is ice-skating or
listening to Linus play the piano, he enjoys where he is and more than that,
celebrates the now. At the same time, he enrolls others in playing, as he does
by grabbing his fellow ice-skaters and pulling them along. Sure, there’s a reckless abandon to some of
his actions, but I’d rather err on reckless abandon with getting others
involved than going it solo.
Somehow Snoopy rarely, if ever, complains. Not only that, he
adapts quickly. At one point, Lucy tells him that he must take the role of all
the animal characters in the performance they are putting together. Snoopy could easily have said, “I am a dog
and that’s it all that I am.” Instead, he shows off his best sheep baa, cow
moo, and penguin waltz.
As I was thinking about all of this, I caught myself and wondered
what I was doing. Is this some silly
analysis of an animated, fictional dog? Is this analysis so un-Snoopy-like? Was
I like the writer who argued that the character in Robert Frost’s “Stopping by the Woods on a
Snowy Evening” was in fact Santa Claus (my 8th-grade English
used to say that this was a perfect example of a situation where just because
you can do something doesn’t mean that you should actually do it.)
Am I ridiculous in looking at Snoopy’s personality and
characteristics?
And then I realized something. Even if the answer is yes,
that doesn’t mean that I can’t use him as a guide, and this is the important
part, if it helps me. My point is this –
Snoopy has a lot of characteristics that I want for myself – and if it means
that I think about how Snoopy behaves in a certain situation and that works for
me, then who cares if it is silly, ridiculous, or absurd?
I want to be more carefree than I am. I want to celebrate life as much as
possible. I want to enroll others in things
that I celebrate. I want to complain as little as possible. I want to adapt
quickly.
For me, those are some of my aspirations. And I see them as generally good. If that means that I look to some fictional
and animated beagle to help me be that way more often, I’ll take it.
Perhaps in writing about this, making it public for anyone
to see, I am slowly being more like Snoopy.
Now, if you find me sleeping on top of a doghouse, you'll know I've gone a bit too far, but that's a risk I'm willing to take...