I’m lucky to have a number of children in my life though none of my own as yet. Children are inspiring in their potential, candor, and insight.
I’m always amused by the conviction that children have that adults are clueless. Perhaps the children are on to something. Everything to them is new, all their ideas original, their enthusiasm without artifice and, cas Milton put it the world is “flowers of all hue and without thorn the rose”. As adults we consider ruefully the process by which this enthusiasm was replaced with experience. Somewhere along the way that boundless joy is tempered by reality. Somewhere along the way we stop believing we can fly.