So yesterday afternoon, I get this text-

“you guys want to go to a pillow fight downtown tomorrow from 3-4pm?”

It was from my friend Em.  I laughed out loud and then responded-

“You have got to be kidding me! . . . I’m in.”

See, ever since I saw the movie “Yes Man,” (as cheesy as that sounds) I’ve tried to take on the same agreeable approach towards my own life.  If someone presents me with an opportunity, I now try to say yes as much as possible.

So it didn’t surprise me one bit, when I immediately agreed to go on Em’s new found adventure.  Though I think it may have surprised her a little.  Soon after our texting, she sent me a link, which allowed me to see exactly what it was that I had signed up for.  It was International Pillow Fight Day!  International Pillow Fight Day?  I was intrigued and the 8-year old, living deep within my psyche, couldn’t wait to partake.

Apparently this is celebrated, all over the world- Germany, Spain, Italy, France, Argentina, Amsterdam; the list goes on and on.  The ritual is always the same- bring your pillow, count down the seconds, raise your pillows, and then … madness.  So there we were, Em and I, standing nervously in the middle of Pershing square; on the edge of cohesive chaos.  5, 4, 3, 2, 1, . . . it had begun.  Em and I were trapped in the middle of a feathered mosh-pit.  There were hundreds of people all around us and as far as the eye could see, thousands upon thousands of feathers.

It was truly unbelievable.  So many turned out for this event.  Avid fans announced that they’d been doing it since 2001.  Yet this was the largest turnout they had ever seen.  And why not?  With such a bad year in the economy, I think it was understandable that the public needed to let off a little steam and what better way to do that then with a ginormous pillow fight.

I found this to be an interesting juxtaposition- a little girl watches on as the adults play.

This girl was all set, matching socks, shirt, and pillow!

These two watched on, took pictures, and laughed.  It was a good time no matter where you were, whether you were a voyeur or a soldier positioned within the fray.  My hat goes off to the team of calaborators that invented this movement.  It is simply a good time, no strings attached.  There is no cost, catch, fine print, or paperwork.  This day was created strictly for the art of letting go and is celebrated all over the world.  I’m rooting for it to be a new National holiday, it may take a few years but I think it could happen.  At the very least, I hope to see you all there next year.  I’ll definitely be there again . . . camera in one hand and a soft feathered pillow in the other!