Tuesday, July 12, 2005
You could take nearly any summer morning from my childhood and they would be thus: bright, light, and pregnant with the promise of unknown adventure and mischief. As you grow up you simply do not experience days of a similar ilk, this is a simple fact. The purity and open nature of a child’s mind is far more receptive to the inherent joy that can be found in the simple things: the smell of freshly cut grass; the zigging, zagging flight of a paper plane, climbing a tree; a kiss on the cheek from that girl you’ve always liked, the list goes on. As you grow older your expectations grow more complex, you develop an ego and all interests and aspirations sprout from a desire to satisfy it. During this turning of self we lose our reason and intuition. We grow selfish and corrupted. This process is as natural and unavoidable as the slow erosion of a cliff face as it is washed away by the constant pounding of ocean waves. I wish I could recapture those childhood days somehow.
Posted by Don Quixote at 11:26 PM