The Magic Of Our Childhood

The Magic Of Our Childhood

Today while standing in my driveway, waiting for my dog to have his time, I saw these kids. Roughly 11-13, playing laser tag. They were laughing and running around the neighborhood, hiding behind lamp posts and trash cans.

And watching them have their make-believe world sprout around them made me remember my youth.

Remembering when I was that young, running through my neighborhood fighting invisible creatures, making friends with dragons, my bike was my pet, that I'd ride anywhere. Any stick was a weapon. We could play any game.

Climbing high in the treetops looking out at a vast ocean, or looking down at the earth from millions of miles up high. We never ended a story, we just waited for the next day to begin, running around continuing our battles, playing with our pets, imagining new friends the size of mountains.

And I slowly started to wonder when we finally ended that story. It didn't have an ending, one day it just stopped.

For some reason, we put down our weapons which now turned to pieces of wood found in a yard. Our bikes no longer seemed like they were alive. The creatures no longer stood by our sides and all the battles slowly faded away without a second thought.

I realize that I have forgotten how to imagine a world like that and hold it in my eyes as the real world would seem. The power of childhood wonder, and magic that only we had somehow slipped from my hands without a second thought. I can no longer pick up a toy and pretend it's alive and has a story because all it is to me now it is just a toy.

The magic I once held in my hands has vanished and I wish I could flip on a switch and reignite the flames. I don't remember the last time I saw my toys as alive, or my bike a horse, or the world around me a fantasy land where everything was under my control.

I see now that I have lost a part of myself, the ability to see the color in the world around me. The wonders where every leaf had a story and every rock was a mountain or a monster to fight.

I wish I could go back and tell myself to never let that go. To play one more game of pretend. And let the story have an ending, instead of letting the pages fall blank for the rest of our lives.