Eyes on Us
The future surrounds us. In every child, we can watch what will become. Envision if any of us who are officially adults would be followed around 24/7 by a camera crew taping our behavior to role model. Now, at what cost would that footage need to remain on the cutting room floor, trashed, or scorched like the earth we’re exhibiting some hefty fines of failure upon? Adulting well is no small task. Headlines scream how we kind of suck at this all too frequently. So, to all the Greta Thunberg’s now, before, and popping out every second of our days, I’d like to suggest we invariably remember they have eyes on us. The only fair measure to leaving a thriving planetary playground for our youth to grow old happily is taking the “I” from ruin so they’re able to run with it. When we give more than mere observation to these youngsters we ascend to mindfulness vigilantes.
For in every adult there dwells the child that was, and in every child there lies the adult that will be. ~John Connolly, The Book of Lost Things
A currency of my tender submersion was the carefree world of all things pretend to possibility. I began with my own eyes all a wonder to the extents that formed beyond my boundaries. Ceaseless options seemed to fill every sensory avenue. Tiny animals took in delicate flower petals, while some crawled way up high into the treetops I couldn’t even claim to climb in height. I saw the creation and the cosmos in its entirety as a giant sailcloth waiting for me to artisan a ship of my affection fit to whisk me away to my destiny. But it’s not all dreamy. Grownups doesn’t imply smarts. We are known to fall into our poorly protracted childish tactics when things get too wonky for us. We tattletale, cry wolf, cower, or clearly need naps. Though, this is not to say that childhood is relegated to tantrums. Timeouts would be sufficient starters. The sooner we commit to memory the wisdom from our ages of innocence the more developed our responsibility will grow.
Big isn’t good unless big does good. ~ Angela Ahrendts
Just because you get bigger (older) doesn’t assure you’re getting better. Kids commonly see my soul before I’ve realized it’s driving my decisions. Their eyes have it tattooed in copious colors and shades. This pink wisp in Fiji had been coyly sizing me up for hours. Without any language but her body’s eyes, she’d caught me trying to capture her magic on camera. In exchange, she left me with chills of insight. In one quick flick of my shutter, she’d ‘told’ me she knew what I was up. I wasn’t alone in my island thoughts. No longer could I debate a new life across oceans by myself. Our children view anything that could be through a dual lens. No matter a callow age, they are seasoned with second sight. They understand the importance of seeing through both sets of eyes ~ their own and all others. Impersonating our former little selves comes with a code of conduct. They are keenly surveilling us for knowledge paired with a guardianship of monitoring.
The body grows slowly and steadily but the soul grows by leaps and bounds. It may come to its full stature in an hour. ~L.M. Montgomery, Rilla of Ingleside (book 8 in Anne of Green Gables series)
One of the fastest tracks for calibrating competence is the connection to your forever young self. Herein is where our heart consciousness goes from bud to boom. In part, it’s our ability to respect why our feelings, foreshadowing, and passage of fame mattered deeply to us as an adolescent. I think it makes us extra equipped for the upper ages. As a smaller human, we tend to be wide-eyed. Predominately, we drink from the cup of everlasting. We have zero sense of loss. That is until we look up and out fully. These older people appear as a magical bunch of productivity machines. We want their everything until we see the monsters in their closets or trolls driving their bad decisions. Nevertheless, a residue of strange persists in how many us race to be adults. Meanwhile, coinciding with a fallback into juvenile antics of plentiful elders. Tapping into the core of such buffoonery arrives back to the seat of the soul: one’s eyes.
Being silly is still allowed, not excluded by adulthood. What’s excluded by adulthood is thoughtlessness, so be thoughtful and silly. ~Hank Green
No one ever said you had to give up the good stuff. Happy childhood is filled with a lightness that seems in adulthood as hard to keep as a bubble floating on the breeze.
It is not so much the vantage point as the advantage points we can effect. You’re welcome to continue costumey dress-up regardless of Halloween or similar excuses. It’s doubtful that playing chicken will ever lose its allure well into my dotage and despite the body of water. Notwithstanding, our wakefulness ought to far exceed wading in the pool of duration. We must reach into the abyss to respectfully find our manners, morals, and aptitude to secure all angles. It isn’t enough to claim womanhood or manhood, nor any ripe hood if not complete with sentience. For, as we rise to our senior selves, peering left and right, or solely ahead won’t do. What behoves us is our gaze to every direction. Focus it as your global welfare duty to see yourself now, as you were, as you will be, from all sides, above, below, and definitely yonder selfishness.
Adulthood is like looking both ways before you cross the street and then getting hit by an airplane. ~Unknown
May our maturity harness a belief of youthful indulgence, yet packed with unlimited concern.