Do yourself a favor and read this.
I frequently rail about the special, unique, and important generation Mr. Rogers aided in creating. I am not a fan of the modern concept of individuality, in my opinion it is a sick and grim outlook that is perpetuating stagnation and allowing us to pat ourselves on the back for really accomplishing nothing. I do not consider myself to be any sort of special gift to mankind, I am a human.
I was the first type of kid he talks about, growing up. Awkward and unsure how to take praise that seemed unfounded... but as the years went on, I wove those baffled moments into a my super hero cape that masked my own insecurity. Slowly, tough bitch was born, I walked around smug and arrogant. If you didn't like me that was your problem, I pretended not to care. And that attitude became so second nature to me I did not even realize it WASN'T ME. I totally bought into the "this is me, take it or leave it" power-trip.
I can see that this was all a part of that crazy web of self defense I crafted for myself. It goes way, way, way, back to the little girl inside me that is desperate to come out. To be vulnerable, the little girl that wants to take the complement, the little girl that wants to be praised. That little kindergartener that just wants to play in the finger paints with all the other little girls. And even now, as I become more aware of her, as I get to know her, STILL, I diminish her. Still, I tell her that this is a silly song and dance. STILL I tell her that she needs to get over herself. I sit in silence and I judge that little girl. She's five and full of innocence, and I cannot help but to fill her little head full of doubt.
She wants to be friends. She frequently approaches me, with her sweet smile and wonder in her eyes, and I shoot her an angry glare and I chase her off. I tell her I don't have time for her stupid little games, and the wonder in her eyes dissipates, and they well up with tears.
Stop crying little girl! I shout at her.
It scares her. She runs off into the distance and I don't see her for a while. I wonder where she went... I worry that I may have scared her off permanently. I feel bad for making her cry. I start looking for her. And at some point, she re-surfaces...Eventually, I find her, playing in the deep forests of my mind.
As I approach her I can see she is happily nestled into her own world of imagination. She's sitting alone in the clearing of a meadow, in her little white dress, freshly pressed and pooled around her, her copper colored locks seemingly set ablaze from the sun filtering through the trees. She looks up at me as I approach her, eyes, crystal blue, once again shining brightly with wonder. She smiles and reaches up to grab my hand.
Come on, she says, lets go for a walk...
Her innocence, her trust, her sweet smile, that twinkle of wonder in her eyes. It's all quite enchanting as we walk hand in hand in the forest. She points out pebbles and sticks... leaves and insects... each one a more astonishing find then the next. Everything seems so illuminated through her eyes. And the further we walk, the more I begin to see it too. The raw beauty overtakes me, and for a moment... or an eternity... it's not me and the little girl anymore, it's just me. Me in the crisp white dress. Me with eyes full of wonder, locks ablaze, innocence abounding, and then... something startles me. I jump back, my heart racing, I glare at the little girl...
Where have you taken me? I snarl.
She stammers to reply, but before she can, she vanishes. Back into the thick of the forest... and I am left standing there stunned and I wonder...maybe that little girl is onto something.
