After thirty weeks in the roots, climbing into the branches, bearing fruit, and learning to share it, we looked across the Forest of Consciousness and realized something:
We didn't do all that work just to become really well-adjusted adults sitting politely in one tree.
We did it so we could participate in the whole damn forest without losing ourselves.
So naturally, the first tree I jumped into...
has a swing.
Because maybe play isn't what we do after the important work is finished.
Maybe play is one of the ways human beings discover what's possible.
And at fifty-one, I'm discovering that the little girl who knew exactly what to do with a swing might have understood something the adult spent decades trying to remember
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