Do you remember way back when in kindergarten when you used to color, play with clay, possibly even eat the clay? Okay, I wasn’t one of those kids either—I mean the eating clay part, but I did enjoy working on scribbled drawings coloring outside the lines of course, perhaps a precursor to the adage “think outside the box.”
I remember listening to my teacher read us some of the magical literary classics which left us in wonderment in a pure sense of imagination to what the character’s face may look like or what a gaping countryside really is.
As I got older I began to contemplate, where exactly did this spark of imagination, this crafty kid-like sense of awe and inspiration go? As in when we age, when do we decide playing hopscotch is no longer a valid pursuit or coloring a book become uncool, odd, juvenile or something adults just don’t do?
For those of you that have children, in a sense it gives you that nostalgic feeling of growing up all over again, the playtime we enjoyed that felt endless.
As we grow older, we naturally mature, but for some reason I can’t see myself stop dancing to a song I hear from my headphones even if I’m walking down the street, or pick up a paintbrush and start creating. I checked and I don’t think it was on holiday. As in, how come as we age into adulthood we at times lose our sense of imagination?
So today I invite you to think about one of your favorite activities as a child and remember the sense of joy it brought to you. If you did it today would your feelings change? It’s okay to see your inner child staring back at you in the mirror today.
Imagination is mature, creativity is ageless.
I’m cheering for you.