Peter-Pan-itis

Childhood. I can't seem to drop it... And I think I've sort of come to kinda maybe understand it a teeny bit more. I think it's that I have a fear of growing up. Give me a sword and a Captain Hook, because I never want to grow up. But I suppose the world has different plans for me.

But, I've found a (temporary) cure to Peter-Pan-itis for me! After my emotional breakdown today (yeah, high school is freaking me out way too bad. Too much change!) I decided that I was going to think of all of the childhood memories I can. Already I felt better... mud fights, trick-or-treating, pretending to put evil spells on boys when we played house (we were always magic), cooking mud pies in our "oven" (aka the top of the garbage can in the sun), making mud sculptures of turtles, making snow angels in the dark, making a fort out of fall leaves with my neighbors, and climbing my tree and having long discussions, staring at Orion in the winter, and reading. "We" always seems to be Sammy and I. I didn't realize how much I truly miss Sammy until I realized that she is a vital part of nearly every childhood memory. Sammy, I love you.

So I climbed my tree and hugged it for twenty minutes. It's the best smelling tree ever, I'm convinced. I stayed in there long enough that I could track a single tiny red spider as it crawled around an camouflaged among the little red lines on the white bark.

I was going to go in, but found a random string with beads attached at one end and a basket at the other. And this is the point that I became the cowgirl/executioner. I be-headed the weeds with a flick of my "lasso". Gosh, no wonder children like random objects. I don't think I ever had a decent toy besides my green VW Bug hotwheels and Furby (which my brother and dad thought was hilarious to get sick with the TV remote) when I was little; I would have become bored too easily with something with one purpose! Give me some PVC pipe, a bucket, and a cardboard box, and I'm well on my way to building the next flying machine!

And then I was going to go in after playing with the cat instead of doing my duties as executioner... but then I saw a puddle. I guess that's the way I was when I was younger: I immediately thought, water+dirt=mud!! I shall never outgrow mud. : ) So now I have a little rock house and firepit with dinner on a table and wood drying by the shore of the lake in my backyard waiting for the faeries.

So now I'm cured! I can go on with life now. I'd prescribe re-living childhood to anyone who's felt like me recently, lost, confused, and stressed. Faeries really understand things quite well.

Peace, love, and memories to get us all through life happily!