On Trust

Yesterday the kids and I played at a park. We found long sticks and used them to etch pictures in the gravel of a baseball field. We drew suns and Fisher said that our suns would bring out the sun in the sky and keep the rain away and it didn't rain the rest of the day. At one point Phoenix, my 2 year old, said look mom, I drew a horse. She's never drawn a horse or anything but random scribbles, and though I'm sure it was by pure accident her scribbles did look like an ancient petroglyph of a horse:

I love watching kids at play at the park. All it takes for them to make friends is finding one thing in common with another kid--whether it's wearing the same color of shirt, or discovering a similar affinity for dinosaurs or the teeter-totter. They make up their mind in that moment to be friends for the next hour. They assume the best. I always wonder what it is about aging that takes away that simple magic. I think it must be trust--the more we see of the world, the more news we watch, the less faith we have in humanity. Though being hardened to the tragedies can keep you safe, it can also prevent the magic of optimism. There must be a balance of realism and daydreams. I strive to keep my kids safe so that they can live in the world of dreams for as long as possible, to nurture their passions no matter how small or strange. Fisher is currently obsessed with Bigfoot. He watches Harry and the Hendersons, stands at the end of our driveway yelling out his Bigfoot call, spends hours gathering leaves and preparing a bed for when the big man comes to visit, he leaves carrots in the woods and wonders all day long if Bigfoot has found them yet. I could go on. So I found this Bigfoot doll online, which came in the mail yesterday and which Fisher claimed was his new most prized possession that he would keep forever and ever:

My hope is that by encouraging their passion they will trust themselves. Phoenix likes to dress herself (sometimes 20 times a day). I don't discourage her when she puts on her brother's underwear inside out and backward. I don't discourage Fisher when he paints his toenails with my nail polish. I let them be so that they can be. Hopefully by the time the world starts to rear all of its colors in their direction they will have anchored enough trust in themselves to not let it keep them from believing in magic.