When I was younger my mom was always telling me to go outside and get some fresh air. I never really understood her obsession with fresh air. It's just oxygen just like we have in the house, except it also has bugs flying around in it. I just want to read my book in peace, please, Mommy.
But now I think I understand why she felt it was so important. I think she knew that one day I would wish I had spent more time outdoors when I was a kid and had endless opportunity. Looking back on my childhood I know now that I was extremely lucky. I grew up on a horse farm with 25 acres of outdoors to run around in. We have a pond, small woods, a stream, a barn, and lots of fields. Everything you need to have the most idyllic childhood adventures. Yes, I was a bookworm and carried a book around with me everywhere I went but I also spent a good deal of my childhood exploring the farm, lost in my own world of wild imaginations.
There's something to be said just for the very feeling of "fresh air." Four hundred years ago people thought that the air and weather surrounding your body directly affected their thoughts and feelings and health. If a person got too much sun, he or she would be hot-tempered, etc. And while obviously the most literal interpretations of the value of the air around us are false, there is still some truth in the idea. There is something of a sponginess in our mood. It soaks up everything around us.
I had a lot more to say on this topic. I actually felt a good, long philosophical rambling post coming on. But then I was distracted by my cousins screaming and fighting. For about ten minutes all I could hear was shrieking. One minute we're climbing trees and having a jolly good time. Then, they're viciously screaming at each other. Boys will be boys. Brothers will be brothers.
So now I'm just going to leave this blog and try to regain my sanity. I'm going to remember how much fun it is to climb trees and I'm not going to think about my stressful life. I want to be a kid again.
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