The #1 Thing I Learned from a Kid
By Z Zoccolante
(Listen to the audio of this blog in the blue box below!)

Kids are interesting little humans. They’re us before the world has molded us with the dos and don’ts of how to be a proper adult.

Before this happened, we were little beings in tiny bodies that moved like play dough. Once upon a time we were fully expressive and reacted to all our momentary feelings.

Although there are obvious benefits to being a mature member of society, kids harbor a sense of pure magic.

While visiting family, I’ve adopted a four-year-old shadow named Sophia.

My morning begins with her crawling up on my inflatable bed in the living room to ask me why this and what’s that.

A short time later the living room’s become a hospital and I’m the patient. One plastic toy doctor item emerges at a time, from her room, as she runs back and forth down the hallway.

Here’s how the procedure goes down:

• She gives me a lot of shots in my arm. She takes my temperature, which is 405 degrees telling me that’s why I have to stay in the hospital, despite my protests that I’d be dead at that temperature.
• She chops four fingers off my left hand then gives me a deer-in-the-headlights look when I ask her how that’s supposed to help me get better.
• She pours her fake container of “milk” all over my body because apparently surgery requires me to be completely soaked before we begin.
• She chops all my hair off, even though I still have no idea what surgery I’m having.
• Finally, she runs all around the house rounding up every reachable blanket and pillow and building me into a life-sized cocoon. (I’m in there somewhere.)

It’s quite an experience and the anesthesia works quite well ‘cause I’m able to squeeze in a quick power nap while in a deep cocoon cryo-freeze.

Later that night, when she’s passed out in her room and I’m still up at 1am, I think about when I was a kid.

I remember running outside in my pink princess dress, carrying a life sized plastic machine gun. My best friend wore my other princess dress and had her own gun. My younger brother looked like Indiana Jones with a pistol and biker jacket. The three of us played for hours, fighting the bad guys with our guns and ninja skills.

Being around Sophia, reminds me that our little kid versions still exist somewhere in us, waiting to be let out to play.

As I write this, Sophia is currently sitting next to me on the couch making a naughty list that consists of all the letters she can write in no particular order. She’s asked me 15 times and counting why I’m still writing about her. Subtext: why am I not finished yet to play with her?

This Christmas, take a few moments to remember the little kid version of yourself.

• What made you smile?
• What lit up your day?
• What did it feel like to have a Gumby body?
• Do you remember what it felt like to laugh till your stomach hurt, or have a cry the moment you felt sad?
• Do you remember how you played?

Forward Locomotion:

Kids bring a certain magic to the world. Although it tends to be ironed out of us as we grow up, there are remnants left behind. This Christmas, take a moment to rediscover your moments.

How can you relish in your magical little footprints?

With Love,
Z :)