Sleeping Child

As a child, our world is very small, and our joys simple, pure, and innocent.  We live mostly by the day, not really concerned about plans and mostly ignorant of future complexities.  But as we grow, strings and chains start pulling us in different directions, the expanding world gradually changes from fresh experiences into accumulating burdens we carry, and our eyes are opened so much that things are no longer as beautiful as they once were.

From a confined perspective, we see the soil, the water, the plants, the flowers, and trees.  Soon, it is the jungle and all the creatures of the wilderness.  Later, it is the river, the waterfalls, the mountains, the volcanoes, and the storms.  Look even beyond those, and you find the world, the universe, creation, destruction, and the mysteries of it all.  Then it seems there's nothing else, or at least no more answers for now.  And I am not so sure if I really wanted to learn all of that or not.  Sometimes, it seems we've gone far and reached so many places, but in a way, we're really not very far from where we started -- with life still shallow and empty, but the only problem now is we are aware, which is why it is disappointing.

If I could make my way back closer to the start, to choose a more ideal time period without the ugliness and trauma, then I would.  But I cannot go back.  I am not a time traveler.  Or maybe I am looking too much for fulfillment, when perhaps I just need to go back to following my basic instincts, as a human, and as a man.  In my mind, I am now semi-retired -- I will reduce load and am not going to stress as much or go as hard anymore about matters of ambition.  I've focused so much on giving others their comfort and pleasure, that I've forgotten about mine.  I've been out there in space trying to carry planets on my back.  I guess it's about time I come back down to Earth -- to smell the roses, chase butterflies, find inspirations, and enjoy what remains of my youth before it's all over and done with.