“I learned to value only that which truly activates what is in my heart. I came to value those experiences which activate my heart as it really is. I sought, more and more, only those experiences which have the capacity, the depth, to activate the feeling that is my real feeling, in my true childish heart. And I learned slowly, to make things which are of that nature.“
[Christopher Alexander :: The Nature of Order, The Luminous Ground]
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A friend emailed this quote to me recently and it prompted pages and pages of writing over a period of two weeks. I began to compile a list of the things my childish heart prefers — that is to say, the things I cherished when I was a child, not really objects, mostly daily experiences I had while growing up on remote warden stations in the National Parks of Canada. I want to share some of that list with you now!
My true childish heart prefers:
*playing alone, most of the time (which isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy playing with others — I was prone to wandering off on my own, and was content to be so)
*being in boreal forest (a spruce, jack pine and birch blend is nice)
*star gazing and wondering at the northern lights
*beaver ponds, narrow creeks, mossy forest floors
*tall grass, or a tall crop (wheat, canola, flax) — standing in tall grass or a tall crop
*collecting rocks, twigs, bugs, wings, feathers, bones, tadpoles, frogs, frog eggs, crayfish, leeches
*building snow forts, snow caves, forts in hay bale stacks, forts in aspen stands
*building, in general
*the sound of ruffed grouse drumming
*falling asleep to the songs of wolves and coyotes
*riding horses bareback
*fishing
*cleaning fish, generally dissecting things and investigating the insides of animals
*making whistles with caragana pods, blades of grass, reeds
*watching my dad do woodsman things: pack a packhorse, run a chainsaw, chop wood, build a fire, ride a horse, drive a snow machine, shovel dirt, gut a fish…
*climbing trees
*reading books
*rubbing the cheeks of rabbits (which brings them great pleasure and causes them to grind their teeth which sounds a bit like a cat purring)
*being under overturned canoes on the edge of a lake in a thunderstorm
*swimming
*twirling on ice while figure skating
*running/going places fast
*morning light filtering through a tent wall
*peppermint tea
*sewing
*any kind of baby animal, the wilder the better, rabbits especially
*keeping hens and collecting eggs
*hunting for the secret place the cat hid her new litter of kittens
*the sound of horses chewing oats
*cooling off in the horse trough on a hot summer day
*being made meek by a sudden storm
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At times, my childhood seems a lifetime ago. A girlfriend of mine, last summer, asked me what I was like when I was a little girl. When I went to answer her question, I realized I’m the same person (in most ways) as the little girl who grew up feeling she owned Riding Mountain National Park. My life isn’t much different either. I still spend hours out on the land, most days. I like peppermint tea. I make whistles out of grass blades and it seems there’s never a moment when I’m not exploring…or noticing the world around me. I know I have been changed, burdened, and freed, time and time again, by life experiences and interactions with humans, by loving and losing and loving and losing. But the changes have not been for the worse, but for the beauty of growth and betterness. I’ve been able to keep a good grip on my true childish heart, more than most, and I’m thankful for that. I don’t feel I’ve lost my way in adulthood, I’m thankful for that too. Who were you when you were young? Who are you now? Who would you rather be? I have been turning these questions over and over in my mind, pressing at the answers like they are rumpled cotton beneath a hot iron; they lay out before me now, crisp and white, new and beautiful, ready for the wearing.
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On Friday morning, I went up Gibson Jack. It was a wonderful, woolie spring day. The creek was ripping right along, fat with snow melt and rain. The trees were beginning to think about buds and root-moving-rock-splitting. After exploring the creek and laughing at the antics of the dogs, I laid down on the forest floor and watched the sky through the trees, simply being restful, aware and allowing my senses to drink in the world around me. I thought to myself:
Not enough people take the time to simply linger a little longer in the wild places. We pass through the forests, across the plains, under the arms of the mountains — we hurry on our way to somewhere. We forget to notice the sky and feel the wind. It would be better for us to linger, every now and again, to afford ourselves a full taste of the world around us, to slow our heartbeats and sink gently into the earth. Maybe, if we’re lucky, we will remember our true childish hearts, and feel a spirit of youth and freedom rise up in us.
Yes, yes, oh yes.
My childish heart is full of delight with words, delight with the light of learning. My childish heart read encyclopedias, taught herself how to spell “chrysanthemum” and “pterodactyl” when she was 7. My childish heart read volumes upon volumes of books in the school library — books about wilderness survival were a particular fascination. Everything was fascinating. And please let me never lose my fascination with the word, or with the world.
xo
I love your scholarly childish heart. I bet you won all the spelling bees!
XX
I think this may have been one of my most favorites posts that you have shared. I just really appreciate your outlook on life. I think we would all be so much better off in life if we could remember our true childish hearts. I think we would all be much happier.
Thanks!
You know, I agree with you. X
I love your posts which make one reflect on aspects of ourselves or our lives. You do that a lot. And I love that about you. I tromped into this world with my adults britches already on, I’m afraid. There was plenty to explore and do, but I was either too afraid to try anything new (what if I failed!)or too busy wanting to be the leader and bossing the other kids around to ever really just be a kid. (I know, if I could go back I would have given me a wedgie, too.) Thank God I outgrew that phase! Now I get to eat birthday cake for breakfast, Vegemite toast for dinner, read through the night and go to sleep at 5am (actually, I did do that as a kid!), have a conversation with the neighbor’s dog about the ethics of 4am barkathons, and write stories for kids, telling tales of all the things I wished I had done. I guess for some of us, we just had to do things in reverse! =)
xxx
Benjamin Button style…. 🙂
Some kids don’t discover their true childish heart until they are adults — I mean, think about some little kids who have to take on adult responsibilities at very young ages, their childish hearts are filled with adultness prematurely. And there are some kids too who are just sort of born serious, know what I mean? Anyway, love that you came out old and are growing younger with each year.
XX
I love your childish heart, may it be forever young.
I love my own childish heart, may I remember and remind myself to keep it forever young, to wiggle my toes in the earth, to keep climbing trees, to collect feathers and owl pellets and bones. To linger.
Thank you for sharing with us.
Amen to that.
I think that we’d have made great childhood pals…we’re making up for lost time now.
XX
Jillian, this is just beautiful. All those things are so precious to me; nearly every single one. You are a beautiful refreshing soul
Kerry
Kerry,
Woman.
You and I are like peas and carrots…
XX
…and then this. You just keep resounding truth & beauty with every new facet it shines! That last paragraph is so painfully true for many in this day and age I fear…
I always get this heart-ache of nostalgia when I think of my childhood, a good ache – like a long lost friend really. I was a real tom-boy, living in trees, skinned knees, always eager to run/play/create. Never sticking to one crowd of people, but bouncing between the circles of whispering girls and wrestling boys, embracing the underdogs, befriending the outcasts… I think that’s stuck with me. I kind of love it.
You’re such a source of loveliness, I thank God for you and your heart and your words.
xx
mel
needle and nest design
“I always get this heart-ache of nostalgia when I think of my childhood…”
THAT’S so true and beautiful. Me too.
I’m only 30 now, but the differences I notice in the world, already, are astounding…I think I miss the world of my childhood…or at least my heart and mind of childhood…at times.
X
As a child, i lived in the woods. When i wasn’t in school, i was outside, sun up to sundown. I climbed trees, I made waders from trash bags and explored the swamp. I built forts and hid in trees from the boys who lived nearby and pelted them with crab apples when they passed beneath me.
Now I live in a city and am so far from where I want to be. But on the inside, I am the same girl. God willing, I find a similar place to raise my children in.
Beautiful post, Jillian, and a great reminder. Just as I believe children are more open to God because the world has not become too stong in them yet, so too are we most likely closest to our truest selves as children. I loved this – I’ll be thinking on it a lot this week.
xxE
Holy crow!
I think I’d have been best friends with ALL of you little nature freaks! I hope you find a similar place for your children too — a place where they are unhindered and can grow wild.
X
Thank you so much for this, Jillian.
Sometimes, I am afraid of my true childish heart. It hurt and got hurt and hurt itself. But not always. I made my own list today, because I have been growing up too fast my entire life and I’d like to slow down. I loved:
– the collision of hot and cold
– the production of things, and the salvaging of things
– sledding down hills, running down hills
– the physical act of writing
– repetitive manual tasks
You know, I’ve been forever growing up too fast, but I am not an early-bloomer. I’m decidedly late.
What about rolling down hills?
I liked that, too.
I’m a late bloomer too. Maybe that’s why I still have a grip on my childish heart…perhaps I’ll grow out of it in the future. Won’t that be a sad sort of passing…?
Love having you here, Lizzie, always.
X
You know, I imagined you doing all those things, being that child of nature. I had no doubt. Except for dissecting animals. Gross!
I laughed when you said as a girl you thought you owned Riding Mountain National Park! I wondered, did she name it that when she was a little girl because she loved to ride horses? Then I looked it up. It’s a REAL place. Yup. You lived in the RMNP. In fact, it’s around the same area that Grey Owl (the Brit, Archie Belaney) revived the beaver population. That is one fascinating story, and a place I want to visit. Lucky you, little Jilly.
I’m a kid at heart. I belong in the woods. I’m most comfortable around animals. I laugh a lot and I cry easily. The only thing I like to dissect is an owl pellet.
HA HA!
I didn’t do it all the time. But if I found something dead I often investigated. I helped my dad out with a few field dissections of dead animals as well…it was awful and fascinating.
RMNP is a real place. For certain. Beautiful and wild, too. 🙂 I was lucky to grow up there for a stint.
Good luck with those pellets! Hee hee!
XX
* searching rockpiles for lucky rocks, stringing them on cord, wearing them ’round my neck.
* sitting on the porch in the midst of storms, warned by my mother to go inside.
* wandering cemeteries and looking for young saplings under the grandfather trees.
* walking the muddy field of the farm, picking wildflowers and daffodils.
* crying hard, laughing loudly, feeling deeply.
as you know, i’m not much different now.
the colours and textures in this post astound my senses.
and i love your childish heart.
xx
Sounds like you’re still you!
XX
horses.
it was always horses that occupied my true childish heart.
i was one of the few who was just as happy to embrace the manure rake and wheelbarrow as a part of horse ownership as to saddle up and hit the trail. funny how that hasn’t changed. several people have told me that retirement is when people look forward to taking it easy and cutting back on the responsibilities in life.
i know better!
You’ve taken on an entire herd now and it’s a pleasure to watch! I’m so glad you’ve come back to horses, and horses always. XX
A most lovely collection of words and images. Thank you.
Thanks, Helen.
YES! Beautiful. xx
XX
miss jenifer sent me the link to this today. It coincides with my 4 year old youngest son asking me over tea-time, “is there a real dreamland, mama, a place where dreams come true?” We had just come in from a long rainy walk, at their request. Tossing sticks off a mossy bridge, squealing with delight when one overtook the other as the current took it swiftly downstream. Noticing all the red wing blackbirds who seem to have come back to southern Wisconsin after a long, cold winter overnight.
My childish heart has been reawakened through the privilege of spending every day with my four sons. The indescribable joy of night sledding, landing at the end of the run in a laughing heap, head thrown back taking in the beauty of Orion. Laying on a carpet of soft needles in the pine barren, listening to the wind creak the centuries old trees. Making violet syrup in May, picking each delicate, vibrant head ever so carefully. My six year old’s hand in mine as we wade in wellies through the creek as he exclaims “this day is pretty much perfect!”
It’s good to actually write these things out. For the days when I forget and become curmudgeonly, grumbling over money or some other such nonsense…the latter is really so meaningless (as are most adult worries) in the grand scheme of the world, isn’t it, and what we have left when we learn to shelve the not-important, is a great big landscape of hope and wonder. In the words of sproutgirl74, the end.
I’m so glad JSL sent you over!
I hear that kids are great for the reawakening of a childish heart. I hear that time and time again.
I agree, adult worries can be so very meaningless. It’s sometimes a true shame, the way we spend our energies. I know it’s practical, paying bills, changing the oil on the trucks, owning things like lawnmowers and whippersnippers…but golly, not a day goes by when I don’t want to shuck it all and simply get lost in the moments of beautiful things, wind, sun…the trout in the stream. I often reflect on how lucky I am to have found a fellow who is pragmatic and far seeing…it allows me to live with my head mostly in the clouds. 🙂
Thanks for being here.
Just the other day I was thinking about how if I met my younger self I would not recognize myself at all – even if it was only “my five years ago” self. With every passing year I feel more open, more free and less burdened and I am so grateful for that. I am happy to hear that the things you loved as a child are still present in your life as an adult. xoxo.
Oh the ever shifting and ever changing.
I’d say the same thing about myself, as contradictory as that may seem. I feel like I grow into new difference every single moment that passes.
I know what you mean exactly and now that you mention it I think I feel the same. Thank you for the words. Xo
I love this post and your others on self exploration. This particular post brought me to tears. Not sad tears but happy ones. I had a wonderful childhood. Wonderful parents. Still meditating on your quote. Lots to think about here. I usually don’t post anything, but this was too profound not to. Love your blog with the beautiful photos and your fabulous creations.
But I’m glad you left this comment on this post, and am so glad to know that you stop by here. Grow young, sweet beauty!
XX