It’s funny. At fifty, I’ve become that teenager I wanted to be when I was eight. I don’t have the aluminum boat, nor the lil green motor powering me to freedom. At the same time, the things I loved as a child are the things I love now.
The more I feel at ease to be myself, they more I enjoy and appreciate the things I loved back then.
I loved my family. When I was eight, it was all family, all the time. Family most of the time somehow meant getting into the woods. Crossing swamps and streams and pulling fish out of brooks where all family things.
It didn’t matter whether with friends or alone, riding bikes and building stuff were my real passions. My first experiences of the joy of freedom came when I first rode my bike without training wheels. I did it myself? That phrase changed from a question to a statement to a joyous battle cry within minutes.
One minute I was mortal, the next, in the saddle of the gods, I could soar through time and space and universes and still make it home on t…
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