When I was a child, I made up stories about everything

When I was a child, I made up stories about everything, from what the cat’s thinking to how the trees feel to what if this, and why not that. As a child, I sculpted clay into animals, people, and ideas in visual form. I drew and painted what I could see, what I couldn’t see, what I thought, could imagine, what the music inspired in me, or my friends, movies, books, and nature inspired me to think or visualize. I danced up one side of the couch and down the other, across the floor and over the chairs, climbed the walls (yes, literally!), and ran around on our 3rd story roof, dancing all the while. And Life was Ecstasy!
Now, as an adult, I make up stories about everything, including what the cat thinks or the trees feel, draw, paint and sculpt everything I can imagine and feel inspired about, and yes, I still dance over the couch, chairs, and the occasional roof, although the walls here aren’t set close enough to climb up! I’ve never lost my inner child, nor she, me. It has sometimes made it difficult to survive in this world like that, kind of psychically ‘skinless,’ but I consciously made the choice to stay this way, and it is so worth it! So it seems that in order to regain and retain our child connection of play/work, work/play, we must love and support that sensitive, caring small spirit–which paradoxically–connects us most truly and deeply with the Great Spirit, whatever you want to call that part of us which is measurably gone when we die.

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