Thursday, July 10, 2014

Childhood Innocence

Yesterday afternoon I sat perched on a bench, nursing my cup of coffee, feeling the sunshine soak into my skin. I sat observing and listening to my surroundings, when I noticed a little boy prancing around, followed by his mother. They walked into the library then stopped in front of Star Fountain. The boy climbed up onto the edges of the fountain and started walking around it, taking big, full steps while singing, “I’m free. I’m free as can be in the waaater!” He walked around a few times, continuing to sing and swing his arms as his mother stood there expressionless. She kept telling her son, come on, come on, we have places to go, but he just kept dancing around the fountain lost in his own little world. A few weeks ago I walked along the canal downtown and saw a group of kids walking on a raised ledge near some steps. They were so excited and yelled out, “Mom! Look at me! Woaaaah!!” In both instances, these kids were so excited about life; just existing in a space where there was a wall or fountain to climb, and the fact that they could climb it if they wanted, brought them so much joy. 
Me as a child.

I oftentimes find myself completely enamored by children because they are so free. This little boy was so happy and full of life by simply walking around a fountain. I love that. Kids are so excited about living, and they act upon their impulses to find excitement, then seek out opportunities to do so. Children get so excited over the simplest things; things that exist in the world already that we often don’t notice because we are too distracted by our own lives. They explore these things in different ways than adults because they don’t feel inhibited, and they don’t have to worry about jobs, conflicts, making dinner, or paying bills. They see a wall that seems good for climbing, so they climb it. They hear a tune in their head, so they sing it. That’s such a beautiful thing. They’re still young enough that they don’t know curse words, and the worst thing they can hear in a day is that their favorite television show is playing a rerun tonight. (Do you even remember the last time you didn’t say or hear a curse word? Wouldn’t it be magical to revisit a time in your life when “shut up” was the meanest phrase you knew?) As cliché as it sounds, they don’t know the realities of the world yet, and I’m jealous of that. I still don’t know many harsh realities, but I oftentimes wish I knew fewer than I do. I wish I was so innocent and free that climbing up on a wall would stir up so much excitement inside me that I’d have to call out so someone could see me and share in my joy.

I enjoy being a 20-year-old, and I am aware that being my age gives me more opportunities and knowledge than a 10-year-old, but I am a little envious of childhood splendor and innocence. As a child, life seems so grand and exciting, and every afternoon holds an adventure in your neighborhood. This is still somewhat true in my present life, and I try to keep my inner-child alive by wearing my Forever Lazy to class, or by talking to strangers and asking people weird questions, but never again will walking and singing around a modest-size fountain be the most dazzling part of my day. I kind of wish it could be.


Saturday, July 5, 2014

Routine Reflections

As I mentioned in this post, I’ve been living in Indianapolis these past few weeks teaching art camp. I decided to come home on Thursday to spend the Fourth of July weekend with my family. Being home, even very briefly, made me realize how quickly humans settle into routines, or ways of living. Tomorrow will mark the beginning of my third week living in Indianapolis. Even though I’ve just been there for two full weeks, it seems as if I’ve been there much longer. I’ve talked to friends a few times since I’ve been away, and it seems like a lot has happened in these past two weeks. Being home this weekend made me realize this even more. Even though I haven’t been gone long, I feel kind of out of place being back home. 
Fourth of July with my bros.

Before I left for Indy, I’d been at home for almost two whole months. Obviously I fell into the routine and comfort of being home, seeing my home friends and family on a regular basis, and hitting up Peoria spots to keep myself occupied. Despite being at school for nine months, derping around my house and hometown felt normal again pretty quickly. Strangely enough, after being back at Butler for only a few days, and having a routine totally out of my school routine (living in a house I’d never lived in, and spending time with people I didn’t spend a lot of time with during the school year), I still fell back into the comfort of being at school. Being away for just two weeks readjusted me to a schedule and lifestyle that was completely different from what I’d been living so far this summer. Being home now for a few days, living my life out of the routine and context I’ve been living it for the past two weeks, feels strange.

Even though we like to think that routine doesn’t rule our lives, or that we are free beings who can do what we want, when we want, if it feels right, “routine” does rule us in some ways. I’m not saying that I’ve done the exact same thing every single day for the past two weeks, but I’ve been in the routine of a consistent living space and environment, so that's governed me in some ways. Although I enjoy being free and having room to explore, I find that my life feels more fulfilled, and my creative juices flow most freely, when the rest of my life has some sort of structure. Having some sort of consistency makes us feel more comfortable, which aids us in living our best lives. 


I find it interesting how I can feel thrown off my game by being taken out of the setting I’ve been living in recently for a short amount of time, and be put back in a setting where I’ve done most of my living up to this point. Our bodies and minds subconsciously adjust to our external world in ways that we cannot control. I think that’s kind of rad.