It seems like these days everybody’s on a mission to find their passion. Or some larger meaning.
But what if some of the answers were here all along, but we just forgot about them?
My grandparents were never rich.
They spent their whole lives saving. And building. Building a home, building a life, building a family. They were builders. They gave their lives to creating something magical. And boy, did they create it.
They had a house in a small village next to Burgas. To me, their place was giant. It was home, it was a farm, it was my paradise. You’d step into the yard and you could get lost. Flowers everywhere. Apple trees – three kinds. Pears, apricots, cherries, peaches. Cabbage, peppers, radishes, pumpkins, carrots, cucumbers, watermelons. Four or five long rows of grapevines across the whole yard. A cornfield in the back. Strawberries, raspberries. Chickens, goats, sheep, pigs, horses. They had everything.
I spent every summer there, but to me it didn’t feel like summer – it felt like eternity. I could find a new fantasy world every day. My favorite spot was the tomatoes my grandmother looked after. When she watered them, she dug little channels along every row and let the water in at the start. It would slowly fill up and wind its way around each row. That was my moment. Sticks, toy soldiers, a leaf that fell off a tree, all of it became my fleet. I’d disappear into that world completely.
The next day was my dragonfly arena. I would hide around the garden for hours and try to catch dragonflies. I was actually good at it too.
Imagine that – a kid come come up with a whole imaginary world and spend hours having fun in it.
When was the last time you completely disappeared into something you were doing?
One of the ironies of being an adult is that we keep saying we just want to be happy, but do we actually remember what happy truly feels like?
So this is my note to myself today.
Do more things I can disappear into.
They don’t have to be productive. They don’t have to be valuable or make me any money. A quiet afternoon painting. A book. Just being playful for a bit.
Perhaps that’s when the soul actually smiles.
That’s it. No big theory here. If you’re reading this, take it as a small reminder. Let yourself play a little. Maybe do something you loved as a kid.
Or maybe let the grown kid in you today find a new adventure.
Who knows. Your heart might love it.