Remember how as a child you loved to make believe? That is if you were fortunate enough to have that option. My friend, Brenda, and I would dress up in oversized clothing, drag armloads of toy dishes and utensils, old curtains and dolls to the corncrib to create our 'home' for the summer. We were mommies, actresses, whatever idea presented itself.
So what happened to that wonderful world of imagination? I know some would say that I still reside there. If so, thank goodness. I can't imagine a life with no daydreams or crazy, spur-of-the-moment escapades. Perhaps instead of pulling great thoughts from inside of minds we are too busy crowding outside stimuli into that spongy, grey mass.
Returning to the farm always opened doors once more. I could not walk into the barn without remembering the swing that carried me in Tarzan mode from one side of the barn to the other. I could not walk into the playroom without remembering all of the wonderful times I danced my way from farm to stage. Standing on the old bridge, listening to the rippling water, my mind filled with words and thoughts I'd not yet discovered.
How thrilling to discover that there is no end to what we possess inside. A treasure chest often unopened.
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