Sometimes, life as an adult is easiest to handle if you think back to when you were a child.
No. I don't mean wistful tinted memories of when you had not responsibilities. I mean when, as a child, you heard quite clearly that little voice inside that told you when something was right, told you when something was wrong, allowed you the certainty of self that meant you were free to live in the moment and to trust your instincts without thought of being wrong.
Today, with content king and productivity paramount, with the feeling that you are not good enough if you cannot multi-task, with information coming nearly as fast as the demands on you to have it at hand ... today, knowing that you are strong and able and permitted to follow your instincts is, more often than not, a far quieter voice than the one voice inside that feels it is forever chasing perfection in a way that might have driven Sisyphus mad.
And then you reach a milestone. You reach a mystic conjunction of feeling wise instead of wayward; of having earned the feel of surf beneath your toes ... and you smile unconcernedly at those who gape with open mouth as you shed your shoes and walk across the sand.
And the water's not as cold as you had feared.
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