Do you remember when we were kids we always wanted to try out our balance? We climbed up the road curbs to see if we could walk along it and not fall. We climbed up the trees to see if we could reach that top branch and not fall. We rode the bicycles not touching it with our hands to show off in front of our friends and prove to everyone that we don’t fall.
Having grown up, we stop challenging our balance. On the contrary, we hold to any form of it and avoid anything that can shake it. We hold to the handrails coming down the stairs (because we can slip), we hold to annoying jobs (because we can lose financial stability), we stick to relationships that grew worn out so long ago that we don’t even remember why we got involved in the first place (of course, we’re afraid to be alone).
When kids fall down they get up, cry the pain out and come back to doing what caused their falling. Because it’s fun! Grown-ups are afraid to fall far before the falling, and we walk so cautiously checking every step that there is no space or energy for fun. We stop asking questions, “Can I?” as we know the answer, “I can’t”.
How does it happen? Does anybody remember that turning point when the fear and fatigue came in to replace the curiosity, the game, the fun? Or are there big steps downhill? Or does it happen so gradually that it is not possible to notice? Why do we stop being unconditionally happy? Do we have to? And who, after all, can answer all these questions?
No idea. The only answer I found: I have to come back to that kid I used to be.