Lots of us like to dream. It's almost cliche to talk about how kids are good at it, how they have these wild imaginations. But that as we age, somehow, we lose the art of it.
I agree. There is something so organic and pure in the dreams of a child. We could entertain ourselves for hours by exploring the depths and beauty of their dreams. We'd say things like free to fail, no walls, innocence. If you sat with a child and talked about dreams though, it wouldn't make sense to them.
A child doesn't dream, they don't imagine. It's not an attempt. They laugh and run and make jolly rancher igloos, cry when their friends cry, rescue princesses and slay dragons. They play in the NBA and make the worlds greatest works of art. Their little hands craft the worlds most articulate, meaningful, inspiring poetry. They speak Shakespeare. Shakespeare wrote children's books.
What moves a child? What or who engineers their thoughts? Each little choice, each grand idea, how does it come about? How come their hearts beat so differently?
There's no valley between thought and action in a child. As we grow up we get introduced to that divide. Our parents our friends our teachers our nation. Somehow we learn the difference in thought and action. We learn there is a difference. Our imaginary friends disappear and the top of the slide becomes the top of a slide, not Everest. We discover not everyone operates the same, that each person has different ideas guiding them. Until a certain point a child's does not. Slowly that divide grows and our dreams happen during nap time instead of play time.
Children can teach us a lot, but that's dumb. Let's not learn how to be children, children don't learn how to be themselves. Let's just be who we are and always have been, children.