Childhood is a Puddle

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Once upon a time, there was a puddle.

A glorious wonder you fully explored, feeling the wetness, no matter the cleanliness. The muddier, the better, for then the wonder transformed into imagination of what was in there. A puddle, the mode for endless active games, splashing, jumping. Ripples became waves. A hands-on experiment in science made the landing of rain boots produce colossal impacts, and then there was the trial-and-variation of what could float. Floating in the puddle, memories of a time when nature and the outdoors were enough, didn’t use electricity, didn’t cost a dime. That puddle so mystical the way it drew out smiles and squeals of surprise and delight. That puddle, a portal, to a simpler life.

Last week, there was a puddle.

A nuisance you fully avoided. The puddle threatened the fancy shoes you were wearing. Nasty muddy puddle, too. You let out a curse to the city for not engineering the walkway better. Perhaps you’ll sue. Thank goodness you noticed it over your phone’s rim. You had to jump over it, risking looking so stupid, hoping the other phone-viewers didn’t notice. Floating in the puddle you regard for a fleeting moment a leaf, which reminds you fall is nearing, and your yard work will increase. Maybe you’ll cut down the tree in your yard to avoid the awful raking. The puddle-portal to childhood has faded. Your life is now complicated.

A puddle is but one portal to childhood. A gift from nature that used to provide ample pleasure. At what age, what day, did you grow up and away? Which time was your last splash? When did your mind racing replace your legs? When did your imagination fade and the mundane move in? When is the last time you slowed down, breathed in, the simplest joys, put down your showy toys?

What if…

What if you took off your fancy shoes and shamelessly dipped your unmanicured toes into a puddle? Let the wetness take you in, back to a time and place when you had no cares. Look deeply into the reflection until you can see yourself again. Whisper the password, and I bet the portal will open and transport you back.

Let the ripples become dimples and waves and make you small in the best of ways. Dive into the puddle and emerge

re-birthed.

©Laura Denise 06/30/18

3 thoughts on “Childhood is a Puddle

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