Back to the start

We all want to feel like kids again. But how?

Allow me to share with you a secondhand anecdote. I failed to bookmark the thread it derives from and am sorry for that, not just because I want to recall all the details but because it diminishes my credibility. I will do better! But here is the gist:

A grown woman visits her hometown and stays in her childhood home with family. She needs something from the store. She hops on her old bicycle and rides. It is dusk. She is alone, which is rare given present-day obligations to her children, her work, her life that never stops. But this is not a present-day moment. This moment is a memory relived: her bike, her street, alone at dusk in the warmth of summer.

Consumed with old emotions, she pulls over and weeps.

Deep inside, I think people feel a certain softness for their past. Complicated, sure, but soft. In our earliest years, we are unsullied and unburdened, our outlooks unfiltered. Revisiting people and places for a walk down memory lane will not necessarily recreate that. It takes more. The woman above might have visited her parents’ house twice a year for her entire adult life, but riding her bike alone at dusk in the summertime elicited something she had not felt in forever. She was a child again for one vivid, fleeting moment.

We don’t miss being children—we miss the feeling. As adults, gaining even brief access to those primitive emotions from our childhood can warm and mend our harried hearts.

I am no stranger to being overrun by nostalgia. Pour me two cocktails in the East Village, and I won’t stop crying until someone hand-feeds Vanessa’s Dumplings straight into my mouth. But I know where those memories live; they occurred less than a decade ago. I walk through them often, physically on visits to the city and mentally in my writing. The feelings I associate with those memories are the easier ones to recall.

We have a harder time accessing emotions from our childhood. Just because we’ve pinpointed them—because we know they once existed—doesn’t mean we can have them whenever we want them. If we could, we would probably be better adults. The anecdote above inspired me to think about the feelings I miss from childhood, and what circumstances in my life today bring me closer to accessing them.

Innocence. Children are born good. They see good. Problems have little context beyond what stands right before them. They approach challenges, new situations, and people as blank slates; often with open hearts, not discolored from the experiences that make us question everyone’s intentions. I’m not sure I will ever access innocence again, but I see it in the eyes of my kids. And when I volunteer, I come from a place of yes, a place of open hearts. This is as close as I can get.

Anticipation. Children bring all of their energy to things they are excited about. They don’t think about the what ifs and the hazards of things not working out. Halloween as a months-long discussion is a great example. While I am sometimes too exhausted to embody that anticipation, this year, we set out for trick-or-treating on our historic neighborhood street at the perfect time, in perfect weather. The vibe was just right. The girls were ready and so were we. Concerts, too. I feel giddy with anticipation before going to a concert or show I’ve been waiting for.

Being cared for. Think back to having a cold as a kid and just being tended to. Being cooked for. Being checked on. It felt so safe. This is not a slight against spouses (I swear!), but once you get older, especially if you have kids, this feels much less possible. Even when you need to be cared for, you are always worrying about someone else.

Glee. Unfettered happiness comes easy when you’re young. In your Thirties, not so much. I want relive a snow day with my best friend or the hugs after curtain call. Life and its scale reduces down to the present, and you are living for the joy of that moment alone.

Tomorrow, my family is *supposed to* leave for Walt Disney World, a place where I experienced infinite glee as a child. My three year old has never been on a plane or stayed in a hotel before. We also might experience a hurricane (minor detail - send all good juju our way). Parents can joke about the exhaustion, the whining, and the expense—how it would’ve been cheaper to go to Europe—yet, we do it, “for the kids,” we say. But I think some of us do it for us, too. We want to access a happiness tethered to our childhood, before life got in the way.

What takes you back to the start? LMK: averagejoelle3@gmail.com

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The little things

I have been on a worldwide search for the perfect loafers, buying at high and low price points, making many returns. At long last, AGL’s Sirena moccasins entered the chat. They are chic enough to wear with a skirt and cute sock but soft enough for bare feet. They’re also lightweight enough to actually walk, which you’d think would be front of mind when designing a flat, but you’d be surprised. Also, glitter socks are from Amazon.

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Also

• Home is Where Your Best Friend Is - Harper’s BAZAAR

• I won big on “Jeopardy!” So why does it still haunt me? - Salon

• House of Spears - New York Magazine

• Eight Hours With Lindsay Lohan - Cosmopolitan

• Marriage Is Hard. Just Ask Tom and Gisele. - The New York Times

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Your Wins

My friend Alyssa completed the New York City Marathon on Sunday. I’m in awe of her strength and commitment, especially with how hectic life is as a working mom of two!