A Voice From the Past
I was going through an old notebook this evening, and I came across something I wrote over 10 years ago. What struck me was not how poorly written it was (it was me after all, who authored it) but rather how much the content still resonated with me. My life, of course, is in a much different place than it was at that time – but even still, it was like I was giving myself a piece of advice from the past.
3-26-1998
The Simple Things
I can remember when I was very young how simple the things were that made me happy. I loved to go outside on a beautiful day and ride my bike. I couldn't wait for it to stop raining, so I could splash around in the puddles, play in the mud. Like all other kids my age, I'd spend time laying on my back staring up at the clouds, making pictures in my head from there changing shapes. I used to love to do these things. They made me happy. Really happy – in a way that isn't that often realized as an adult. When I think back on these things, it's with fondness, but also with a sense of loss. As you grow older, do things that provide genuine happiness get harder to obtain, or do we more easily forget what they are?
