When my girls were little, and doing cartwheels, and bopping around with so much light and vibrant energy, I used to say that it would feel good, as an adult, to walk around - to dance, flit, and spin around - in one of those five-year-old bodies for even just a little while. Another great joy in being so young, is the complete "suspension of disbelief." We often hear that phrase in conjunction with movie watching... a movie will mesmerize watchers, reviewers tell us, if they can suspend their disbelief. Five-year-old Tanka walks around with his disbelief permanently suspended.
Out of the blue, he will ask me, "What's your made-up candy?" The trick here is not to ask for an explanation of the "game" because that interferes with the organic flow of the moment. So, he says, "What's your made-up candy?" and I reply, without hesitation, "It lasts a really long time without dissolving and changes flavor every few minutes." I gave the same answer several weeks ago, and he doesn't let that slide. "You've had that kind before," he reminds me. "I know," I tell him, "But it's one of my favorites, so I want to have it again." He's cool with that, and nods his head, pulling a made-up candy of his own from his pocket and popping it into his mouth.
I'm getting in touch with my inner five-year-old: What's your made-up candy?
photo by Aisling, May 16, 2008: Dicentra Spectabilis, Bleeding Heart