What generated a sense of excitement in your childhood? Well, there was the belief in Bigfoot. You used to go on those excursions with your friend in the woods behind the neighborhood searching for the beast. There was also the belief in Santa Clause and the reindeer…the Tooth Fairy…the Easter bunny…the Great Pumpkin. Too bad these all turned out to be a bunch of lies. Why do parents need to make up lies and fairy tales? Is it because the reality and truth of human momentum is devoid of excitement? Is adulthood really that bad…forcing us to make-believe with our children? Perhaps…instead of lies…we could talk about some real significant humans and human achievement and celebrate that…or…there is an abundance of beauty and mystery to celebrate in the inhuman sphere.
There were lots of real adventures that got the heart pumping. Those secret missions at night, once the parents were asleep…sneaking out to egg and toilet paper neighborhood homes. Remember that time you and xxxxxxx poured gasoline on the neighbor’s firewood pile, set it aflame, and then proceeded to be firemen putting out the blaze? Remember how fast your heart was pumping when the cops rolled into your driveway? The approaching storms were invigorating. You would watch them approaching from the front porch…the lightening…the thunder…the swirling dark clouds…the tornado warnings. Remember when your brothers used to make you punch some random kid so they could watch a fight? How mean. But, it did get your adrenaline flowing,,,right?
Man, all the fun and enjoyment you had outdoors. Remember catching fire flies in your hands on a warm summer night? Remember building snowmen, snow forts, throwing snowballs at moving cars and running as fast as you could when they slammed on the brakes? All those games…kick the can…tag…war…bikes…big wheels…tackle football in the snow…playing for hours outside until dusk…when mom blew the whistle three times to let us know it was time for dinner. Remember the public swimming pool…when we would pick a corner in the deep end and as a group jump in with cannon ball form…blowing away all the would be swimmers…the corner would be ours. We called it…the Bermuda Triangle…lmao.
There were more memories of feeling excitement and being alive. Remember that trip to the Cayman Islands? You went skinny dipping with your brothers at night during a full moon. That beautiful water, light but dark…swimming in terror and excitement. Remember the horror movies, the haunted houses, the damn scary pirate mask that your brothers terrorized you with…the vivid nightmares? Remember that one night…when you thought about being dead forever…and you almost grasped what that meant? The fall…the leaves changing…jumping in piles of colorful leaves. And King, the family dog…a real dog…Norwegian elkhound…such a spirit…always finding ways to escape and roam free for days.
These are the broad memories of your childhood…the important ones…when you felt excitement…when you felt alive. I find it very interesting and telling…that the majority of this excitement was outside…not indoors. Indoors was the place to eat and sleep and get warm. Other than that…the indoors was simply a means to prepare to go outdoors…and live. There was also a little bit of trouble…mischievousness…freedom to roam…and some disappointment in the adults or culture…the lies…the fairy tales…the cover-up…the misdirected celebrations. But all in all, it was a good lively childhood…mainly spent outdoors…or so that is…all that I remember.