When we are young the world is wonderous, a magical place where all possibilities play out through our imagination and play. All things are real to a child. Then we crawl into that time when we say to ourselves, loud enough for other's to hear, "It's not cool to play, it's not cool to believe." then secretly we still play. Often we have a friend to share this time with. This friend is either real or imaginary, all's good.
Then comes a morning when we wake. Our imaginary friends are gone and our non-imaginary friends are standing beside us. We are no longer waging war with mom and dad, we are engaging with mom and dad sometimes following, sometimes leading in a shared direction to a shared dream. Possibly somewhere along this path, you and your friend will present to Mom and Dad two copies of yourselves, and they become Grand-mom, and Grand-dad. And your copies start their own journey's.
There comes a time when you are holding the hand of Grand-mom and Grand-dad walking in the original direction. It's your turn to lead. The Moms and Dads are following our wonder and awe. Then you wake holding the hand of your child who is leading you, there is music.
Next stop, who has your hand?
Peace and Balance,
John
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