The Childhood Feeling I Miss Most

It was Friday. The bell sang to us. We were lined up single file: A dozen or so 8-year-old girls and boys awaiting the nod that meant 30 minutes of freedom. It was as if we had been spring-loaded into the barrels of cannons. Our teacher held the igniter. We collectively wiggled in anticipation. The nod came, and the heavy door was flung open with ferocious force, prey to a hoard of tiny hands. We burst through the door like skydivers, reaching a sprint pace by the time we melded with the next class. There we were, a mass of kids moving like a flock of starlings, aimless and with the most necessary purpose: Fun.

Recess had come, and the world was ours.

We all know the importance of play, though those moments of eager anticipation surpass the experience itself—the "ridiculous enthusiasm," as my friend once called it. It's that intoxicating level of excitement leading up to the adventure.

It's the antithesis of anticipatory anxiety, a sensation most of us feel every day. The dysregulated nervous system wants to splash in a puddle, build a family room fort, and prank a neighbor.

Somewhere out there, Where the Wild Things Are, adventure longs to be found, much like Corduroy's button. Let those initial moments of ridiculous enthusiasm be the lighthouse granting your child self the go-ahead.

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