Once, We Were Young

“Two golden hours somewhere between sunrise and sunset. Both are set with 60 diamond minutes.” ~ Horace Mann

As another autumn (and another birthday) are upon me, and as I face the daily blows of life, this is always a time of reflection of who I am, where I’ve been, and how I am to face my next year of life. 

I finish the year attending to important deadlines and mail that piled up over summer. I try to stuff the idea of the holidays for now, as I’m just not quite ready. 

When I feel particularly burdened about something, I remember how easy it was when I was a child. And I yearn to go back there.

And it’s dawns on me how little of life is spent during those wondrous years.

What is it about being a child that’s so wonderful? The laughter, the chatter, the sheer delight of everything! Think of it. Their smiles, great big hugs, and very wet kisses! Their unconditional love. Their close bonds with family; aunts and uncles, cousins, grandparents. The humor. Their innocence. Their nonsense! It’s all so magical and enchanting.

We were all children once. And then one day we woke up and began that rocky trip to adulthood called “adolescence”.

I remember that time. I was not ready at all and I didn’t want to let go. I distinctly remember the summer that spending untold hours in my best friend’s pool no longer captivated us. Instead, we started sitting around just “talking’ by the pool, rather than playing in the pool. I remember feeling so sad about that. My friend and I even discussed it because we didn’t understand why. It didn’t take long to figure it out. But still, we were very sad to see our carefree days slip away so fast.

And adulthood stayed; it never transitioned into another stage. For me, it swiftly outlived its welcome.

Plus, I discovered that we are adults for the majority of our life. And we are adults the rest of our lives. As we constantly deal with the blows and stressors of the adult years, how much do we look back and long for those days as children?

Yes, at times we thought they were dreadful; like when mom and dad said no to candy. (What could be worse!) Or how we couldn’t trudge through the house after building a snowman. And vegetables … ugh! Those vegetables! As adults we laugh at the perplexity of those “problems”, don’t we?

It’s so short … childhood. And adulthood … it’s so long … and so serious.

The thought struck me about those two golden hours—how the sun gets to beam and glow, even finger-paint and watercolor—the sun gets to play just like a child. Everyday. For two solid hours! Morning and night.

I wish during those two hours—sunrise and sunset, that we could become children again, for real.

Just two hours! But can you imagine, just imagine, what would happen in this serious world of adulthood?

Think about it. In some places it would be absolutely hilarious; others, a complete disaster! No, we couldn’t do that, of course!

But at sunrise and again, at sunset, could we not use those times as markers to get our attention, to cultivate an hour to release the cares and seriousness of adult life. And just glow

Maybe we can’t just abandon our post in life to utter nonsense and irresponsibility. But maybe we can let go of life’s burdens for a bit. Maybe stop and just enjoy that golden hour, even for a little while. Smile. Laugh. Release ourselves inside, for a moment, to utter nonsense!

Like a child.

Once, we were young. Can we not be again?


Photo Credits: The spectacular orange Indonesian sunset goes to my friend and guest author, Stephen Deal. Probably one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Thank you, Steve!

Peace,
Alexandria

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Why Is Your Structure Such?


You fascinate me.

I don’t know you. Don’t know much about you, actually. I know the monarchs; so regal, vibrant. The little yellow ones—fleeting, quick. But I’ve never seen you.

As I chored about the yard, I caught glimpses of you. And I thought, you’re different. What unusual beauty. Such graceful movements.

But…

So dark. Dark as a moonless night. Dark as a storm front. Dark as deep ocean.

But such a comforting dark. There’s a softness about you. Why is your structure such?

When your lovely flight pattern stopped, I moved closer. You didn’t fly away. It looked as if you waited, and actually posed for me. Your dark was then so beautiful. The rust tinge. The white. The astonishing scallops. And then that lovely shade of blueness. Black and blue. Oh, why is your structure such!

Why did God make a black and blue butterfly??

I’m not exactly sure but I thank Him. For because of beautiful creatures like you, I see the blackest of my days and the blueness in my soul are still tinged with color, and pure white, even if there’s a touch of rust around the edges. Like a lot of things in my life.

If I would just be still; and take notice.

You dawned my day with your dark.

And perhaps that is why your structure is such.

Oh, I know you won’t be around for long. Your life is sadly very brief.

And I may never see you again. But I’m glad we’ve met. 

And I’m glad of the structure that is you.


This is my contribution to the Weekly Photo Challenge with the themes “Structure” and “Waiting.” We don’t typically see black swallowtails around here but this year we’ve seen several. These were some of the thoughts that came to me as I observed and enjoyed them. I hope you enjoy as well. 🙂

Peace,
Alexandria

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