in our street in January
Today my youngest son, 5, asked me to make a costume with him. He wanted to be a bird. He found a newspaper and went get the roll of packaging tape. Then he explained to me how to proceed, step by step, on top of his clothes. I did exactly what he was asking for. I did not give him any advice. I taped on his wings, tail and feathers. Nothing was cut: it was made with entire pages. In about 20 minutes the costume was done and my son was extremely happy about it. Then he tried his wings, flapping them around the house and declared they were working very well. When it was time to leave and go get his brother at school, he carefully climbed into the car, buckled his belt and managed to not damage his fragile costume. Then, at school, he ran to see his brother, wind in his wings, and all the kids were saying: “look, a bird, a bird!” The whole thing was great, I was thrilled by his spontaneity and the spontaneity of the other children. This child does not think anybody could think it is bizarre to do something like that, he just wants to do it and he does it.
When do we lose this ability to enjoy doing things just for what they are and no more?
No judgment is involved here - and no fear -, just the pure pleasure of doing something exhilarating and light as a feather.
I forgot to take a picture.