I spent most of the morning after Christmas looking out my back window and sketching. My mind, free to wander and wonder, eventually coalesced around a pane of glass
INTO THE AIR WE EVENTUALLY THRUST OURSELVES
I used to make a mean paper airplane. It was fun experimenting with folds and tossing them into the air. Some flew mostly straight. Other planes flew erratic paths in the air.
Now, many years later I find myself wondering, is there a difference between childish and childlike? As usual when my mind drifts too far afield I ask Mrs for her perspective. What usually happens is while she's sharing I either have a sudden AHA! moment of crystal clear insight or my thoughts go off on an unexpected tangent.
Today it was a sudden insight that brought understanding. Childish suggests something having to do with one's maturity. Caught with my hand in the cookie jar do I deny it's my hand or do I ask, "Want a cookie too?" Childlike, on the other hand, speaks to innocence and wonder.
It's sometimes painful when I look back and recollect. What might have been, if.. I used to think they were cognitive excursions of the wasteful kind. The past is immutable, right? But of course they're not wasted. Reflections can lead to the old seen in new ways and to new directions.
Which brings me to my granddaughter Carly. We light up when we see each other. I've mostly given up sharing things I know with her. We both get more out of our time together when I experience what she shares with me. I like being childlike alongside her. Problems I'm working on seem smaller when I see them as I think Carly might. No pane, no gain.