I often wish I could once again look at the world through the eyes of a child. A time when magic still filled my days, and there was something fascinating to see everywhere I went. My opinions of what I should like or want was not yet structured by society and rules. I had my own vision of beauty.
Back then the world was not limited, and colored in shades of grey as it is now to me. It was alive and vibrant with adventure and color, each running into the other, creating a beautiful kaleidoscope of wonder and excitement.
I remember spending entire afternoons crouched in the dirt, fascinated, watching the activity of the ants and other insects around me. Wondering all the while what they were doing and what they were thinking. I pictured a whole inner city, deep below the ground, where they all lived. I imagined families, children, and babies for them, and wondered what their children did for fun.
Other times I would lay on my back in the grass or on my trampoline, staring at the sky, waiting and watching patiently, on the off chance I would catch a glimpse of an Angel or Jesus, peeking down through the clouds at me.
I loved flowers and picking bouquets. The flowers growing wild were my favorite. My mom spent hours and hours planting roses, irises, pansies, and other flowers... but it was the wild ones that I loved best. The ones that sprang up in the yard in between mowings, the ones found scattered along the roadside, and the ones in my Grandma’s back yard. I loved smelling the butter cups and rubbing the “butter” on my nose. I made wishes on as many Dandelion heads that I could pick.... before blowing gently to scatter my wishes out into the world. I watched each little seed for as long I could as they carried my wish to distant far off places.
Riches surrounded me, a treasure found each day... in the shape and texture of the rocks, the lines and colors on candy wrappers and cereal boxes, the feel of mud squishing between my toes, and the velvety texture of each blade of grass.
Adventure followed me everywhere I went and came alive in my imagination. As I explored the woods beside our house, went wading in the stream at my Dad’s, walked the pastures across the road from my grandparents farm, skipping rocks on the ponds. There was never a dull moment.
I viewed the world as “good” and “innocent” back then. But, somewhere, along the way, I lost that sight.
Corrupted by the media, news, and my environment, I don’t see the beauty that surrounds me anymore. My days are no longer filled with adventure, wonder, and excitement. These are now things that I have to seek out and make an effort for.
The wild flowers that I so loved as a child, I now see as weeds, the ants and insects a nuisance, all of which we try to eliminate from our yard. Cereal boxes, candy wrappers, and rocks that my children stuff in their pockets and turn up in my wash, are no longer viewed as treasures.... but trash.
I don’t see the world as “good” anymore, but filled with evil. Violence and crime fill the news, heartache and suffering shown on every channel. Society dictates what is beauty, as I try and often fail to meet those standards. From the style of my clothes to the color on my walls..... I seek from the media what should be worn or had.
Every now and then, I catch a glimpse of that “sight” I had when I was a child. The sudden rainbow after a storm, the smiles on my children’s faces, the smell of the fresh air as I watch my curtains flap in the breeze from the open window..... But these are just glimpses. Most of the time I take these sights for granted, missing the wonder each one holds.
The adventure, the beauty and wonder..... it’s all still there... the world hasn’t changed.