The View From My Fishbowl

Running through the dewy grass, little legs flying as fast as they could, I can remember finding myself at the edge of the yard, where the darkness of the wooded night met the warm circle of light spilling from the house. Determined to win, I pushed myself further than I had ever gone before. Removed from the familiar, I now entered the unknown – the dark, boding trees of the night air. Crouching low, I observed the scene before me and kept my silence.

Always before I had stayed in the circle of light, dancing in my nightgown, hair still dripping from the bath, and catching fireflies with many squeals of delight. Eating strawberries on the porch and watching my brothers play made me feel safe and untouchable. I was protected and part of the group, separate from the world that lurked beyond the shadows. This time I had pushed beyond and now sat, with a strange sense of independence on my shoulders. The feeling was a bit exhilarating and breath-catching, yet a strange knot still formed in the pit of my stomach and I couldn’t stop looking over my shoulder.

I won the game. Cries soon came on the night air, beckoning me back. Such convincing need not take long to settle in, and my little legs took me flying back the way I had come. Back into the circle of light, back into the familiar, back into the place I felt secure. From there, the darkness seemed just a bit less formidable than before.

Part of growing up is experiencing that detachment over and over. With each new experience and growth lesson, we push past the familiar childhood bounds and into independence. From the first solo bike ride to the first solo car ride, from the first day of school to the first night home alone. It’s a part of life and it can’t be stopped, yet it leaves us with a feeling that is a bit exhilarating and still forms a knot in our stomach.

Sometimes I want to go back to that warm circle of light, where all was right in the world when I had my Strawberry Shortcake nightgown and the freedom to spin in the freshly-mown lawn. Sometimes I want to revert to those days of simplicity and worry-free complications. Sometimes I can’t believe I’m never going back. Sometimes I don’t want to be a grown-up.