The Moon in the Daytime"Why is there a sky?... I know, because birdies need a sky." Lia, age 2When I was little, I believed the daytime moon was a gift just for me. I thought I was the only one who could see it. I'm not sure how old I was when this started, and I don't remember the moment that it ended, but I imagine I believed this because it made sense to me. I imagine that no one else shared my amazement at the sight of the moon in a pale blue sky, and therefore, thought I, they must not be able to see it.
Children live in a world alive with magic. Not just the magic grown-ups ask them to believe in (Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny) but the magic they create. They believe in the stories that guide and shape their play. They believe in their Superhero Powers to fight off the Bad Guys, and they believe their Wild Baby Wolf howling is Wolf Language. They believe in their drawings of Treasure Maps and in their Really Scary Masks. And truly being with them invites us to believe as well. Joining a child in their play allows us to break the mold of expectation we grown-ups so often hold onto. After all our years of experience, we have a good idea what is going to come next. But in a child's world, whatever wants to come next does, with no notion of time frame, or cause and effect. Time is fluid because they don't yet have a grasp of our rigid sense of seconds, minutes, hours, years. In play it can be night for 5 seconds, and after wake up time they can go back to night whenever it suits the story. They can pause time to extend the parts they really like, and they can repeat moments that are deeply satisfying. Especially when the roles are reversed, and you're willing to let them sing you to sleep, or parent you in other ways. I never want to be the mom when I join their play which allows someone else to mother me, and their tender care and sweet endearments give me a lot of insight into who they are now, and who they may become. The look in their eye softens when they see me as someone who needs to be cared for, and for a moment we are the same. |
I still feel a deep sense of joy when I see the daytime moon. I imagine I always will. I always feel an inner thrill as if the magic of belief is still alive in me. In many ways I never relinquished my Magical Thinking. It's part of what allows me to be the teacher I am; I still believe I am capable of Great Things.
The world of children's literature is rife with books about magical thinking, and Chris Van Allsburg's The Wreck of the Zephyr is one of my favorites. His gorgeous paintings bring an added mystery to this seafaring tale of a hidden island and the gifts it has to offer. And in the end, we are left sitting alone above the sea, asking ourselves if we believe.
So begins another Great Conversation.