Bakersfield.com

Growing up happens on the outside, then slowly seeps into our souls.  We know it is encroaching on us when we start hearing phrases like, “You’re too old for that toy,” or, “Stop behaving like a 3-year-old.”

As those phrases become more and more common, we begin to believe them; feeling shame for having these “childish” desires, they become subjugated to that part of our beings where other socially-taboo behaviors reside.  Those are the actions that for no reason, other than “because,” are unacceptable for “people our your age” to act out.

To feel the cool mud ooze up between your bare toes on a hot summer day, to blow bubbles in your milk, to pretend you are the armed forces commander, sending GI Joe out on a dangerous mission; These forms of play are pulled from our grasps by people concerned for our “mental well-being.”

Adults are supposed to act a certain way.  Responsible and secure in their aging shell, they go about their grown-up duties.  Or do they?  Do we truly welcome the onslaught of what is expected of us as pass through that magical boundary between childhood and adulthood?  18 or 21, depends on if you commit a crime or want to purchase alcohol; those few years provide a glimpse of what is to come.

Some try, to no avail, to walk against the persistent flow of time that leads to the “other side.”  They are considered foolish for clinging to “childish” rituals and avoiding the heavy responsibilities of the adult masses that surround them.

Pushed along by the throngs of citizens who march in perfect step to the swinging pendulum, we steal moments, when no one is watching, to entertain our inner child; balancing along the curbing, instead of walking on the paved path, buying a popsicle from the ice-cream truck, or wearing a bubble hat in the tub.

So how do we balance the adult outside with the child inside? How do we address the stares and whispers behind our backs?

Perhaps with pity.  Pity, that they deny themselves the joy of playing with their inner child, instead of celebrating its existence.  Pity, that they have fallen prey to the whims of the masses and lost their young souls to the grinding machinery of the adult world.  To be swallowed by such an oppressive force is truly sad, but must they remain lost?

They can teach themselves to play.  They can open their hearts to the small voice that yearns to be heard.  They can take baby steps toward fulfilling their inner desires, gradually evolving into a whole person, not just the façade known as “grown-up.”