There is something so utterly magical about how the minds of children work. And being one of them who’s (hopefully) going to be a child at heart for the rest of my days I find it particularly sad whenever I meet someone who doesn’t remember what it was like to be a child. To play and use ones imagination to the fullest and not caring if it didn’t make sense to anyone else.
I believe that writers (like myself) can easily access that door into their own childlike mind. Maybe it is that we partly just refuse to grow up completely. Because who would ever want to do that?
I’m not saying that being an adult doesn’t have its advantages. But there really isn’t much that can top that adventurous bliss of childhood. I would easily trade every party for the opportunity to climb that tree that touched the sky for the first time again. To explore the forest behind my mother’s house and look for treasures. To dream about what my life would be when I grew up before I even knew what being a grown up meant. To look at the world as my own and packed with the possibility to become anything I could ever dream of and never care about any form of limitation.
I could be the best unicorn rider in the universe. I could travel to any planet at anytime. I would learn to fly and to breathe under water. To talk to animals and shift into any shape. Tame dragons and be the greatest heroine of our time.
The possibilities were endless!
I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I still dream of all those things! And the greatest part is that I partly get to make them come true every single day. Liar, you say? No no! Let me tell you how.
I read and I write.
This is my escape from the obligations, the bills and the boring parts of being a grown up. I get to be a child (yet again) every single day, if I want to! I can discover the wonderful universes created by others or I can make up my own. A place where I decide the rules and where I can explore everything for the first time just as I did with that forest behind our house.
I could never imagine myself a life without the possibility to enjoy this kind of imaginative escapes. And that is one of the things that I definitely wish for my son. For him to enjoy being a child for as long as he possibly can. To find the joy in reading books and making up his own stories and universes through storytelling and play. To allow himself to be childish even as he’s venturing into adulthood. To dare to dream and make his own future no matter how impossible it may feel at times.
There is so much joy in keeping your inner child alive. To stay creative and to explore.
Let’s run out there into our well known world as if it was completely new to us. Explore it and see it with childish eyes.