Monday, September 28, 2009

Best to stay a child forever?

I hope my blog doesn't sound too much like Malory's, but I was thinking along those lines, and she put it excellently.
Wouldn't it just be best to stay a child forever? Things were so simple. Our biggest responsibility was to keep our room clean so our parents wouldn't ground us. We appreciated nature, in a way. When I think of my childhood, the first thing that pops into my head is riding my bike on April Lane. Years of my life were spent in those woods, biking, hiking, searching for who knows what. But can I say I want to go back to it? Not necessarily. Like Wordsworth, I wish I could have some of my mindset back, my appreciation and naivety. But I've found love, I've found passion, work, discipline, and character since my childhood days. Responsibility is heavy, but we need to remember that it's a gift. I sometimes think that I wish I didn't have so much to do, but then I look around, and I realize that God has put me at the college that I've hoped for for so long now. Even the pain is new. The most pain I felt as a child was scraping my knee on the sidewalk. Now, I've experienced heartbreak, depression, distrust, I've been stabbed in the back, had crises of beliefs, wished I didn't exist anymore, all the pain that comes with being a teenager. But the pain, I wouldn't take back. I do not wish myself to be rid of bad circumstances and once again playing in the dirt and forming superhero clubs.
What I'm trying to say is that yes, life was simple and happy when we were children. But ignorance is not bliss. The richness of life I've acquired is something I would never want taken away. My deep love for Kyra, my hard work required of me, the satisfaction from simply carrying out my daily responsibilities, my character and personality crafted from my past, my ever-growing relationship with my Savior -- these things make growing up not an inevitable evil, but something quite beautiful that we should appreciate, and cultivate, because we can never go back to now.

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