Child, where did you go?

    When you were little, you dreamed of climbing trees that stretched up into the cotton-candy clouds that seemed too far away but at that same moment looked like they were close enough to touch with your slender open fingers grasping wonder. Your young imagination stitched together pictures of you running wild and free alongside cheetahs and zebras and dinosaurs, or swimming with dolphins and sharks and schools of rainbow fish, a leaping graceful arch beside a killer whale in the sea. You'd dive into the pool water every summer pretending you were a mythical/mystical/magical mermaid, the world your oyster. Your heart rate would rise at the thought of flying, writing songs along to the beat of your heart. And at one point or another, you dreamt of saving the world.

When you were little, did you ever dream you'd lose those sweet dreams?

When you grew up, you let the odds favor your fears, you let go of your giant dreams. Your childhood is now only a vague reflection in the back of your soul, those faded memories tasting strangely sweet on your tongue.
Let's put aside age and the expectations that come with those numbers, let's refamiliarize ourselves with our past childlike fearlessness and compassion, stretching our minds with tall thoughts and overflowing our deep, deep wells of souls.