Well, what i wrote yesterday evening looks like nonsense now. But i have a reality check this morning: going to see Felix (and his dad, of course).
I haven’t seen him for a few months – in fact since his second birthday, so he’ll have grown a lot. Seeing small children always leaves me with less stress – things i habitually worry about no longer matter, since a toy car and a matchbox can fill one’s world with pleasure.
Adam Philips wrote about the ‘intensity with promiscuity’ of a child’s attention – how they will focus utterly on one thing, then give their attention to something else. They learn from adults that drawings ‘must’ be finished, that dinner must be eaten completely before play.
Why do we stop them doing that? Wouldn’t it be lovely to do what we liked for as long as we wanted – and then stop? Or at least, not feel guilty for quitting the Hardy novel, or switching off Eyes Wide Shut.