As the plane glided from Frankfurt to Munich I couldn’t help staring out at the clouds below. As a child I was certain I could devise a way to jump out of the plane and onto the fluffy clouds. I would play with other kids who were smart enough to leave the plane without being seen and without getting in trouble with their parents.
The clouds would be softer than a duck-feathered pillow and smell of fresh made cotton candy. I think we would be allowed to eat sometimes, but not all the time. I mean I sure didn’t want to get a tummy ache and we couldn’t eat it all up otherwise we wouldn’t have a place to play anymore. So there would be set hours for munching away on a cloud, and also set amounts. I think we’d only eat enough to keep us going. And then when the sun went down we would sleep on the clouds until the ray bounced off our cheeks again the next morning.
Some clouds would be like trampolines and we would do somersaults and backflips and all the movements I was learning in gymnastics but didn’t quite master yet. I would know how to do them perfectly on a cloud. Some clouds would be musical clouds like the floor piano at FAO Schwarz and every step we took would produce a different note. We’d compose lots of music and people on earth would be able to hear it but wouldn’t know where it was coming from. Then we’d laugh because it was our little secret.
The world up on the clouds was peaceful. I really wanted to be part of it, but never quite made it out of the plane. Apparently you aren’t suppose to open any doors when it’s flying. That makes it harder for humans to jump out.
I smile. I remember those thoughts I had as a child. It warms my day. I hope that 2014 will be filled with more memories of my inner child. The child who saw the world differently, full of magic, possibilities and goodness. The child who questioned most everything and wouldn’t stop until it convinced everyone around that the idea it just had is yet the best idea in the whole wide world. The child who allowed curiosity to guide it and who smiled and felt proud every time it learned something new.
Happy New Year, I yell full heartedly from the seat. Everyone turns to stare. My husband chuckles. If I were a child people would’ve found it cute or annoying but nobody would’ve questioned my sanity.
So I continue… Happy new year to you and your inner child.
I point out the window and whisper: mine is playing on a cloud right now.