I watched my five year old son the other day in amazement as he gathered construction paper, a few pieces of tape and a pair of scissors and created his own masterpiece paper airplane. When he was done, he beamed with pride as he pointed out what each piece represented and how fast the airplane could go. "Eighty million miles an hour Mom!" Wow, now that was fast. Then I watched him run off into our yard with his airplane in hand as he concocted a whole story in his head complete with sound effects. Our backyard was no longer just a backyard. It was the great big world and he was going to explore all of it with his new paper airplane.
I watched him experience something so magical......his own imagination. A truly mystical place where there are no boundaries, no judgements and no pre-fabricated ideas of how it should all be done. In his imagination, my son was a world traveler with an airplane that could fly faster than any other plane on the planet. Pretty cool!
My noodles started to bubble to a full boil as I thought about my own childhood. I can still remember those days when anything was possible. If I could imagine it, then it had to happen. It was that easy. But as I got older, my imagination came with a long list of rules, logic and prejudices. So when does the imagination end? At what age do we get too smart for our own good? Or maybe too stupid, for that matter.
As I watched my son with a sparkle in his eye flying in his own adventure, I instantly wanted to protect him, act as his shield, place him inside a bubble so that his magic wouldn't slip away. Of course I know that's not possible. After all, everyone has to grow up sometime right? But why does growing up mean that you have to let go of your magic? Why do we have to let our imaginations disappear?
That's when I realized that we don't have to. We can hold on to the magic. To that feeling where the sky is the limit. To the ability to passionately throw our noodles, our ideas, our adventures with so much fervor and inhibition, that they actually have a chance to come true. Maybe they might not fly eighty million miles an hour like my son's paper airplane, but they certainly could soar beyond our wildest dreams. Only if we try. Only if we imagine. Only if we hold on to the magic. Not just for the sake of ourselves but for the sake of our children. Teach them that jumping, going beyond the boundaries and flying paper airplanes around the world, is a part of life's curriculum.
My noodles started to bubble to a full boil as I thought about my own childhood. I can still remember those days when anything was possible. If I could imagine it, then it had to happen. It was that easy. But as I got older, my imagination came with a long list of rules, logic and prejudices. So when does the imagination end? At what age do we get too smart for our own good? Or maybe too stupid, for that matter.
As I watched my son with a sparkle in his eye flying in his own adventure, I instantly wanted to protect him, act as his shield, place him inside a bubble so that his magic wouldn't slip away. Of course I know that's not possible. After all, everyone has to grow up sometime right? But why does growing up mean that you have to let go of your magic? Why do we have to let our imaginations disappear?
That's when I realized that we don't have to. We can hold on to the magic. To that feeling where the sky is the limit. To the ability to passionately throw our noodles, our ideas, our adventures with so much fervor and inhibition, that they actually have a chance to come true. Maybe they might not fly eighty million miles an hour like my son's paper airplane, but they certainly could soar beyond our wildest dreams. Only if we try. Only if we imagine. Only if we hold on to the magic. Not just for the sake of ourselves but for the sake of our children. Teach them that jumping, going beyond the boundaries and flying paper airplanes around the world, is a part of life's curriculum.
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