My Boys: A Reminder That There are Infinite Possibilities in Imagination

Like I have mentioned in a previous post, I am struggling with writing at the moment.  Well, for a couple of weeks’ worth of moments.  With this struggle planted firmly in the forefront of my scattered mind I declared that my one and only goal for this evening was to write.  After postponement via dinnertime, a long, well-deserved bath, and other mundane household activities, I sat myself down at my desk and looked at a blank screen for a while.  And then I did the smart thing – I went downstairs to check on the boys.

What I saw was something that could have resulted in many different reactions.  There could have been anger, frustration, confusion, or any other negative or impatient reaction.  But what happened is laughter.  I simply laughed when I walked into an obstacle course made of furniture, shoes, boxes, and whatever else could be cobbled together to create an elaborate world; an imaginary world in which my children were playing.  Together.  Happily. 

I was not laughing at them.  Or even with them because they did not notice me walking into the room.  I was laughing from plain old happiness.  And the reminder of the fact that I really can find a tremendous amount of joy in the simplest of things.  

Simple things, like a destroyed living room, filled with ordinary objects transformed by imagination into lava pits and catapults.  As I stepped over a line of shoes that must have been a make-shift border between Alec Land and Nick Village, I chuckled quietly to myself.  Because it reminds me of the simple, cool things in life that I sometimes lose sight of because of the difficult and not-cool things that come along. 

I forget sometimes that children at play are a very cool thing.  That taking the time to construct elaborate fort blankets and impenetrable castles constructed of dining chairs is sometimes the best use of time possible.

I love the way my boys imagine the worlds in which they play.  I love the way their new worlds are made from pieces of everything they know, with their personal improvements added.  I love the way they switch from good guy to bad guy without missing a beat and the way a ninja game can morph into an army game and immediately into a pirate game in a matter of seconds and no one ever questions the validity of such changes.  I love the way they still possess the ability to be adaptable and cooperative and happy.  I love the way they just simply play. 

I am not saying that on a different day I would not have walked in and demonstrated one of those negative emotions that I mentioned previously or that my patience would not on another day have been pushed to the limit.  Because that can, and definitely does, happen.  But thankfully today is not one of those days.  Today I found joy in a living room that looks like a war zone.  Because at that moment, that is exactly what four wonderfully infinite imaginations had intended it to be.