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If I ever…

If I ever have kids, I hope they go headfirst over the handlebars of their bike, once in a while. I hope they come home with dirt and grass stains, a canvas the earth colored on, tangled hair, sweat and sun kissed cheeks. I hope they break at least one bone, have skinned knees and elbows. I hope they swing as high as they can and then leap, to see where they land. I hope they learn how to pull themselves up by the bootstraps, how to get back on that horse, how to grab life by the horns.

I hope their canvas sneakers never stay the color they once were, and that they shake the sand, and the dirt, and the earth from them, in the evening. I hope they embrace their naked skin, in summertime, and sleep with feet as black as tar. I hope they shimmy up tree trunks, and dance with abandon. I hope they know what it’s like to crawl into bed, bone-weary but deliriously happy from a day of adventures.

I hope they endure enough suffering to make them empathetic, compassionate, generous, grateful, and struggle enough to feel the jubilee of triumph, the ecstasy of overcoming hardships. I hope they never sit in front of television sets over dinner and watch the world from afar, but immerse themselves in it fully. I hope they never say,“I can’t do anything,” but ask, “What can I do?” I hope they are unafraid to stand up for themselves or for others, but know how to do it peacefully, unafraid to speak up, but know how to do it respectfully.

I hope they are inquisitive, curious, thirsty for knowledge. I hope it is quenched in freedom, instead of being snuffed out in institutions. I hope they question the system, the inner-workings of the world, and have the strength, the courage, to swim against the current.

I hope they nurture their bodies, breath-deeper, stretch longer, that they tend to the earth, in the gentle way they would humanity. I hope they have to swallow a lump in their throat when they see the beauty of a sunset, that the night sky makes their jaw drop, that the sea is euphoria. I hope the mountains are paradise for them, the forest a sanctuary, the warmth of the desert, a womb-like oasis.

If I ever have kids, I hope they know what it is to love, and to be loved.

Posted 1 year ago / 219 notes / Tagged: personal, prose, children, kids, childhood, growing up, future,