Childhood musings
I still dream of fairies and living in a world filled with magical possibilities.
Do you still remember how you handled frustration as a child?
I remember watching the movie ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ and how it got me to reminisce about my childhood.
There was a lot of hiding—hiding in my room, opening the door ever so slightly, my pouty face peeking through a small crack, observing and waiting.
Is it over yet?
When I was a kid, I used to imagine small worlds that exist within our home. Every window crevice and shelf, to me, was a potential house for imagined little people. Rocks were chairs, leaves were their beds, and the pollen of santan (jungle geranium) was their week’s sustenance.
I never owned a Polly Pocket like the kids in my school. Instead, I imagined little people and in my head, they were fairies. They can fit in my pocket, none of them were called Polly, and they had so many places to hide.
Whenever I get stick in the hubbub of adult life, I dream of joining the fairy people of my childhood. Oh how convenient it would be to turn pocket sized and hide.
But sometimes, in my curious little head, I also think, does being little in a world filled with giants also meant that they live in constant fear?
Or are our thumpings and grumblings drowned out by their dancing on leaves and puddles, muted by their singing and sliding inside gumamela (hibiscus) tunnels?
I would like to think that their simple joy is far too great to ever live in fear.
I want to live like that, too.
Perhaps I’m entranced by flowers because I used to think that these are the pretty houses where the little people live.