Up this morning and out for a run in the rain. It wasn't a downpour, but it was more than a drizzle. A friend reminded me this morning about a conversation we had about running years ago. He's a runner and I was saying that I just didn't understand people out in all the nasty weather running down the streets, they must be insane! He gave a knowing nod and probably said something like, "Eh, you never know".
Well colour me purple and put a big flower on my head because I am now one of those loons. I cut this morning's run short to rest my knee and to get home and get some work done with Europe first thing.
Ben arrived at my door just after 9. He has a ped day today, so he's spending the day with me while I work/study from home. We will also run a few errands and later we will go to his playgroup/swim night.
When he's here alone he can play by himself for hours, immersed in his world of legos and transformers. I listen to him creating scenarios and worlds, digging around in the toy box, the sound of plastic being stirred around before it becomes a spaceship, a base station, a control panel, completely in awe of his limitless imagination. He doesn't need a tv to entertain him, or another person. I remember what it was like to slip into that land of pretend where all was possible, all was magical, a cocoon of happy dreams and endless amusement. Although some of us never lose that, it does dim and it seems harder and harder to get back to as the years go by, and our attention is constantly competing with life's other daily tasks.
If we were released from all the responsibility, could we go back and experience it and love it as much as we do when we are 6?
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