When I was in first grade, Mom bought me a brand new pair of red rubber boots. They were beautiful and smelled so good coming out of the box. I LOVED them. The first day I wore them, it was raining and the playground was nice and muddy. Yes!! In my typical fashion, I remember wandering off by myself, and noticing a gap under the wire fence. Hmmm. Wonder what happens if you stick your foot in that hole. Well, what happens is, you get a big old gaping hole in your new red boots. Oooops. Shoot. Not good. 1) Mom will be angry with me. 2) now my boots have a hole and are imperfect. 3) I feel guilty 4) will I get punished? All the above. I did get in trouble, and of course, was destined to wear those boots til I COMPLETELY outgrew them. So where am I going with this? Here’s where.
I’m guessing we all have a red boot story. You know, a memory that gets buried, and when recalled, brings forth a myriad of emotions from sorrow, to joy, to guilt, to “whatever”. Recently, I have met a group of wonderful new friends in the blogosphere, from artists, to photographers, to writers…all of whom inspire me. Bonnie’s recent post on “Mud-Happy-Writing” in Windshield Thinking (inspired by Maryse’s post on “happiness” in BluAmaryllis) brought up this memory for me, and I decided to expand on it here at Truffles and Tea.
As children, we are meant to be children. We are curious. We are inquisitive. We are open to our imagination. We have imaginary friends. We are innocent. We know angels exist. We are unaware of the trials and tribulations awaiting us in life. We live in our precious little worlds, and as far as we are concerned, we are the center of the universe. Then all of a sudden, we learn about guilt. We learn about responsibility. We learn that actions have consequences. Ahhh…the journey of life. Sometimes I choose to retreat to the world of childhood “wonder” and weave that innocence into my adult life. It allows me to forgive, to live in nonjudgement, to accept everyone for who and what they are. The older I get, it seems sometimes, the more childlike I become. Maybe that’s why grandparents have such wonderful relationships with their grandchildren (I am not a grandparent yet, but look forward to it). My children are exceptionally close to my Mom and Dad. My Mom who made me wear those “ruined” boots :). But alas, I was no different raising my children. It is our responsiblity as parents to raise our children to know and understand responsibility, kindness, thoughtfulness, independence. That “tough love” thing. And then as we age, it seems, we get to be who we really wanted to be, who we really were, all along.
Anyway, I updated my blog roll. Treat yourself to a wonderful exploration in life through these blogs. All inspire me…from photography, to essays, to writing, to angels…and I am grateful these friends have appeared in my life, as well as for those friends I’ve known for years (and for everyone here reading this)!!