Would you go back to your childhood?

Every season is characterized by something different. In the winter, I think of the sun ironically. It's more glaring in the winter as it pierces right through the bare trees and reflects off the snow. Winter also brings a deathly silence outdoors. There are moments where the only thing I can hear is my own heaving breath. Sound is almost frozen, suffocating and unable to travel through the stifling air.  Spring is a beautiful time of year and is certainly my favorite season. Not the wet, chilly parts of spring, but the mild, sunny days where the grass is just beginning to reveal shades of green. The air in the spring feels wet and heavy but in a refreshing way. Unlike the winter, where sound is frozen, I hear birds for the first time in months when it's spring. Sound in my ears. That's when I know warmer weather is to come. 

When I think about summer, I'm reminded of my clothes clinging to every part of my body. Sweat pools at my sternum and I feel my socks stick to the bottoms of my shoes. I also always wear a hat outdoors in the summer. Summer is characterized by my blurry selfie camera on my phone from humidity

And then there's fall. Where we are right now. I love the fall because of the crisp air, New England colors, and because it's dahlia season. The leaves crunch everywhere I walk and pine needles that would otherwise not be affected by a storm fall at the slightest gusts of wind. But I love fall because it's also a time where I see and hear a lot of kids playing outside. Their giggles ripple through my windows where I'm studying. When I drive through town, I see kids biking, playing with chalk, jump roping, or probably playing some version of "house". 

And that's where the bittersweet edge of fall comes into play. While I feel a sprinkling of sadness with winter's approach, the ecstasy of little kids playing outsides evokes a great bittersweet taste within me. Their happiness, joy, and innocence puts my current teenage lifestyle to shame. When I see them playing "house" or trying to sell things outside it's reminds me of what unabridged imagination can do. I remember thinking I was going to become Bill Gates selling friendship bracelets and "perfume" made of grass and vanilla extract outside my house when I was young.  When I was younger, anything felt tangible: if I could imagine it then it could happen. The mere possibility of every thought becoming true made me happy as a kid.

But would I forsake knowledge and darkness in return for that level of innocence again? To be stripped of all responsibilities and knowledge? Would I rather just live in bliss like that? Perhaps this points to English philosopher Jeremy Bentham's thoughts on pleasure and pain. When the world grows difficult and I start to lose control of my reins on life, perhaps I do wish I could go back a little. To relieve myself of reality. To just…be. But I wouldn't want to give up my knowledge for innocence. The world is ugly and society is not as just, perfect, or ideal as I imagined it as a kid. But I wouldn't give it up. Perhaps that's why I'm still bearing it all day by day.