Time Warp

What is your favorite age? If you could stay that age forever, would you? (Prompt courtesy of Mama Kat)


I have to think back pretty far to reach my favorite age. I have to bypass teenage pregnancy (which I'll never regret, but people DO look at you funny), my troubled years in high school, awkwardness in middle school, the misery of making friends after our move to Maine (I was the quintessential Mass-hole), and the death of my Grandma Ruth. 


Once you get through that mess, you hit about eight. That's not to say 9 through twenty-five stunk, it's just that eight was...well, eight was just about perfect.


We lived in Groveland, Massachusetts at the time, in a beautiful colonial on a quiet suburban street.

My dad and grandpa did a ton of work and an amazing job renovating this almost 300-year-old house, which you can read about here.

We lived in an actual neighborhood, something that is somewhat scarce in our current neck of the woods. There were lots of kids right around my age and we participated in the usual roving gang of kids activities, like flash light tag, secret clubs, and adopting a stray dog that spent a lot of time going through our trash cans.

Halloween! I'm the kiddo in the white turtleneck next to the scarecrow. All these kids grew up to be amazing and kinda gorgeous, by the way.

At eight, I was never bored. I spent crazy amounts of time outside. I had ambitions, ideas, stories, pictures, a voice. It's not to say that I don't have any of that now, because I do, but it was so pure and so uninhibited. There was no concept of, "What will they think," because "they" didn't exist. The only other people in my life were my family and my very best buds, and they all loved me unconditionally, so it didn't matter what I did - it would all be great.


At eight, you're all innocence still (or, at least if all is right in your world, you ought to be), but you are cognisant of the world enough to really be smart about stuff. It's a perfect balance of a willingness to see an unjaded and beautiful world as well as an understanding that maybe everything isn't perfect, but you can do something about it. Rudolph Steiner, who I'm reading an awful lot about lately, would say an eight year old is spending a lot of her time interacting with the world via feelings. Kids are discovering empathy at this age, and truly feeling the brunt of their emotions. They are understanding how emotions work and preparing to someday control them so they can be used to benefit others. It's an amazing time to experience the world. Maybe because I tend to feel so intensely is why I can connect so easily to eight-year-old me.


But would I want to be eight forever? No, of course not. I think most adults, when they think about it, wouldn't want to go back. There are wonderful things about childhood, but once you've tasted adulthood, you know there is no going back. Not necessarily because being a grown-up is so much better, but because what you've seen and done can't be unseen or undone. What we've experienced as children and young adults has helped us unfold into the full person we've become - and really, that's not such a bad person.

What I want to hang on to is some of that eight year old perspective. The world is a wonderful place. My family and friends love me (including some of those folks in the picture above). I am capable, smart, and beautiful. Flashlight tag is fun (heck, any kind of tag is fun). And you know what? If I want to be a ballerina, then, damnit, I can be.


How old are you, really?