Today I spent a few minutes going through my archives, wriggling all over from the cuteness.
Cuteness like in this post:
Or this one.
We are all so old and sensible now. The kids are sensible at least. Except maybe Solomon, who is still as crazy as ever.
Do you know that feeling when you just want to break out? Break out of the wrapping and the cellophane, the fetters and the sticky raincoats, the customs and the politeness? Maybe I want to break away from gravity and just fly. Clouds heap up in the sky and in the evenings the sun touches their edges. I would like to touch just… there. That bright line between cloud and the dark sky behind it.
I want Solomon to bloom with all the genius within him.
I want to do what I say I’m going to do.
I want to run faster than anything.
I want Kai to move into the realm of adults with ease and grace.
I want them to know how much I really really love them.
We are fettered by the laws of gravity and language, of our own neurological abilities, of life with all its bathroom breaks and digestive needs. Food of course, and water. At intervals throughout the day.
So I settle back down and write fantasy. And read books full of adventure to my kids. And suggest hikes to waterfalls.
We did go on a hike the other day. We went with our friends Alisa and Emiko, and all our kids as well as a couple more. Sort of a homeschool co-op event. It’s a beautiful two-hour hike into the jungle, and at the end you find Elephant’s Head Waterfall. It is true jungle and the beginning of rainy season, so bugs are everywhere. There were bees (I got stung) and ants, and little flies that clung to your legs, and biting flies, and mosquitoes, and it was still worth it because of the beauty.
The kids climbed to an upper level of the waterfall and I nervously watched them (I’m always a nervous wreck around heights combined with slippery surfaces.) Two boys climbed to an even higher part of the waterfall, and Kenya and her friend Vrinda tried to as well, but they gave it up and splashed around in the pool. When the boys were climbing back down, there were sudden screams from the others.
“Snake! There’s a snake right beside your hand!”
The boy, Joe, identified it as a green viper, and there was more screaming. The snake was coiled in a crevice in a rock that the kids had been using as a handhold.
They all got far away quickly, but Taran was still stuck up on the higher level, and the only way down was right beside the crevice. I called the kids to come back down, and when Taran looked around to find another way to us, he spotted a long tree that had fallen, high above the waterfall. It stretched from where he was to above where I was, and he gestured at it, asking if he should take that way out. Because he is a ninja, I said yes. It seemed like the lesser of two evils. So then he crawled along the fallen tree, Mowgli style, and I nearly collapsed with relief when we were all back down on a lower level again.
Perhaps it is enough flight, enough near-death experience for anyone. But still I find myself wanting a boat or a pilot’s license, or simply to be able to run like a cheetah.
And then sometimes a pile of yarn and a cup of tea are enough for me. Especially after a day in the jungle.
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