The sticky sweet seconds of time

Updated version, originally published in 2021.

In childhood, time is slow, time feels infinite. Children live in each moment squarely and fully. They invite wonder and curiosity into each day, approaching life with a sweet innocence. There is time to explore, and to use imagination. Each moment is a new discovery. 

I remember being a kid. Play was play. I’d ride my bike to meet the neighborhood kids just before dusk at the cul-de-sac. We’d race under the palms, play jump rope, and catch lizards. On the weekend, we’d be sure to rush home, just in time for the Saturday Night Nickelodeon programming.

I remember tie dyeing a shirt and adorning it with pony beads, and restlessly attempting to find sleep while deeply excited to wear my creation to summer camp the next day. I remember buying a bright blue floppy hat on a visit to Washington DC, proudly parading around in it, visiting all the monuments.

And the bliss of summertime, laying on a hammock while reading a pointless novel, and eating a nectarine, the flavor of its fleshes simply exquisite. The juices carelessly and freely ran down my arm while I thumbed through the pages. I’d read another and another, letting them pile up on my bedside to proudly return them to the library, all read. 

And the feeling of a window breeze cooling in my ear canals after a refreshing shower, hair still wet and dripping down my back, throwing on a big t-shirt and shorts that didn’t match, and sitting on the patio with a cold glass of fruit punch.

Remember painting with your fingers? 

Remember yelling, and laughing so hard that your belly would hurt, using all of the breath that our great lungs grant us? Remember being open to stumbling and making mistakes, and learning along the way? 

At some point in my early adolescence, I somehow learned that being my whole self was no longer cool. Wearing a medicine bag full of crystals around my neck, in an all-white flax pant set to fifth grade was definitely not cool. Somehow, somewhere, I slowly stripped away these quirky freedoms of my childhood, and matured into an adult who fits in. An adult who is polite, plays by the rules, doesn’t pick up sequins and coins on the playground, and is tamed in voice and dress. I became politically and socially correct. One day, somewhere, we trade in that bright blue bucket hat to exchange it for “productivity” and wearing outfits that are “trendy”, and we look around for society’s approval. 

When did we start caring about being liked? Or fitting in? When did we become tame? What if we were able to retain some of that childlike wonder? That sparkle of curiosity in our eye for the magic of possibility, and for the possibility of magic.

Continuing our journey, absorbing and learning every single day we are granted life on this planet. We are never too old to learn. 

You know that feeling, in the middle of deep summer, when the sun sets late and the golden skies turn from pink to indigo and stars glow and twinkle, and there are so many that it feels like you can jump up and gather them in your skirt? Let’s collapse into the grasses and watch them glitter.

Engaging in simpler days. Simpler fun. Throw away your schedule, and listen to your heart.

Hear your inner child. She’s in there, and she wants to help you remember. Hold her safe, and hold her close. Listen to her desires. Playing when she wants to play, run when she wants to run, speak when she desires to speak out. Pick the flower, sing in public.  

A few days ago, a friend of mine replied to my Instagram story, and caught up for a few minutes via voice memo. I told her about the last few months and how they’ve been a bit trying on my heart. She asked me if I’m dancing. It sparked something in me—it spoke to my inner child. So, the next morning, I turned on the speaker in my living room, and pressed shuffle play on Spotify, and danced to the first song that came on. It happened to be an upbeat track, and I shook and jumped and twirled.

If we can all remember our inner child, and let them come out to play, we will be better people. This love, lightness, and youthfulness will make us more wholesome adults, and in turn, will help us bring more lightness to our world.