“When I became a man I put away childish things. Including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.” ? C.S. Lewis
Last weekend I went looking for a tractor. I found a bale of hay, instead. I don’t remember what compelled me to want to climb on the thing. I do remember thinking “this isn’t going to feel very nice”. But it felt fine. Except for that one moment, when it didn’t.
I laughed a lot that day. In that field. On that hay. Hysterically, and without shame. Even when I found myself stuck, rolling off the side like some limp thing.
Later, when photos began to surface-photos that I posed for, quite happily-I was mortified. For just a moment. Then, I got over myself. Because the self is a terrible thing to be under.