“How old are you?”
“One.”
Innocence. Naivete. Obliviousness. Carefree. Worry-free. Untouched. Pure.
“Two.”
Innovative. Creative. Investigative. Curious. Imaginative. Children are amazing little creatures who have unlimited access to the insurmountable ingenuity life has to offer. They indeed model the right-brain thinkers Pink mentions in his article.
“Three.”
My childhood was surprisingly serene. Neither enmity nor 
hardship
plagued it. We weren’t introduced to chores until much later, when we
moved to the States; so childhood responsibility was out of the
question. Instead, my childhood was spent snorkeling in untouched
waters, trekking to majestic waterfalls, and visiting historic
monuments. Being surrounded by nature, as Wordsworth states it,
“[purifies] thus the elements of feelings and of thought” (700), thus
creates a greater understanding for the creation of things around us.
“Four.”
“Five.”
Then, my childhood dissipated like vapor into thin air. Adolescence (and adulthood soon enough) hit me like a ton of bricks. At the age of 12, I was forced to grow up instantaneously. The endless flight from Manila to Los Angeles prepared me for what was to come. No more maids to cook, clean, and do household chores. No more parents to tell me what is good or bad (both worked long hours…they still do). Just me and my siblings.
“Six.”
“Seven.”
Every time I think about my childhood, I am reminded of a particular incident. Back in the day, my siblings and I would hang around the storage room and pretend it was our base of operations. Scrounging around the closets in the room, we stumbled upon several black plastic boxes. Inside these sat various chemicals used in prawn and shrimp ponds (apparently). Naturally, our childhood curiosity took a hold of us: we began playing with the chemicals and mixing them as if we were chemists or scientists or doctors. Little did we know, however, that the chemicals cost P20,000, roughly $400. My siblings got in trouble; however, I didn’t and to this day I still wonder why.
“Eight.”
“Nine.”
Even
since childhood, I have had a mature perspective of life. I was very
much involved in the orthodox ways of the Catholic Church: praying the
rosary every night with my grandmother, lighting candles and placing
them anterior to the statue of Mary in the garden, going to church at 7
in the morning every Sunday. For that, I’m thankful for. My Catholic
background has given me a foundation for my present spirituality.
Through religion, I learned the mystery of God.
“Ten.”
“Eleven.”
The
mystery is the universe and the boundless energy that surrounds it. The
mystery is the limitless spirit embodied in us. The mystery lies in the
children; untouched or untainted by society, they hold the key to
happiness. In “The Mystery,” a child urges us to “feel the mystery
every day as long as you are awake forever” (167).”Forever,” the voice
echoes in my head. The mystery is in prayer, in being one with God, in
the people around us, and in “[loving] others,” in those who are having
trouble feeling happy” (167). The mystery is all around us; but, do we
have the childhood mindset to tap into the mystery? “Enter thou into
the joy of the Lord,” (168) Augustine beckons and we will experience
the true mystery of God and the universe.
“Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen.”
All
of my colleagues have brought up various perspectives on their
childhood: how they grew up, what their experiences were, who they met,
when they lost their innocence. Each one of us has a story to tell; the
universe, after all, is made up of stories, not atoms. We all
experienced both happy and sad times in our lives, traumatizing and
uplifting: Margaret with her fall as a child; Julie, her undisclosed
event; Ryan, his barefoot excursions. Different stories, yet interwoven
in the fabric of life. "We're all connected; I am you and you are me"
-Ryan.
“Eighteen.”
“…listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.”
~Desiderata
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