Edith Cobb states “It is significant that adult memories of childhood, even when nostalgic and romantic, seldom suggest the need to be a child but refer to a deep desire to renew the ability to perceive as a child and to participate with the whole [. . .]” ( 718).
I do not want to be a child again—I enjoy my greater independence, maturity, and intelligence that come with age. What I want is the creative and innocent imagination and participation in life that children posses and which Cobb speaks of. I think our readings about the “mystery,” ranging from a child to adult and from old to present, mirror the universality of this desire to rekindle child-like qualities. Already, before this assignment, Ryan chose the qualities of his younger brother as a role model while Brian wanted to grasp the consistency and companionship that inanimate Lincoln Logs held. The quality in Denton Cooley that I most admired was his ability to become involved in his surroundings. Notice similarities? Innocence, friendliness, involvement, and more. The qualities that we all want to model ourselves after seem to be the same traits that children have.
I think that society causes us to lose the childhood sense of wonder by encouraging completion in a busy system. More pressing issues like death, housing, relationship problems, and money force individuals to streamline their thoughts and push aside “less important” creativity and imagination. Dylan Thomas captures this destruction of youthfulness by life experiences when he says, “time held me green and dying [. . .]” (709). The fresh green of childhood naturally fades with the passage of time.
At the same time, however, I think we all retain (even if hidden) a sense of wonder and mystery. Just as the logical left brain will never over power the emotional right side, so too will one’s functional and adult habits never completely overshadow child-like qualities like curiosity and energy.
I had never really considered nostalgia as missing childhood. But when I think about it,
I sometimes reminisce about sitting in the back of a friend’s truck afterschool or playing with my neighbors whenever I felt the urge when I was younger. Shown by Troop 1500, separation from loved ones eventually leads to a loss of childhood. Though not as profound, I think the first real sense of separation I experienced was this summer. Every summer my family takes a road trip somewhere in the United States and sometimes even Canada, Mexico, or Europe. I usually was only slightly excited about these family vacations because it meant sitting in a car for LITERALLY 12 hours a day. But, this summer the only time that the rest of my family could travel was the week that I was a camp counselor. So while I was working as a counselor (even if it was fun), my family took its road trip without me. Although I probably would have reluctantly traveled with them since it meant leaving my friends for more weeks, I still felt like I had been abandoned. Hearing all the fun adventures my brother and my parents told when they returned made me feel sad. Watching my younger brother, Ian, I also know I have become less passionate. Every few months, Ian picks up a new hobby, to name a few: coin collecting, skateboarding, swimming, paper air planes, and currently origami and running. He throws his whole self into these past times while I usually rush through school assignments and try to find time to spend with friends or family. But, all is not lost!
Remnants of my childhood remain. There’s spontaneity in deciding what to do every night. There’s a love of interaction in knocking on peoples door whenever I want to talk to someone. There’s creativity in decorating my room. Just as Professor Bump pointed out in class today, I am my one-year-old-self all the way up to my eighteen-year-old self. I just need to reach back and recover some of the qualities of my younger self.
