Forts

This morning when I woke up the sun was blasting through the front wall of the tent.  I thought that maybe I had slept in and it was some ridiculous hour like 10 or noon...........or something like that.  A quick glance at the clock told me that it was 5:30.  A sense of urgency overwhelmed me............I needed to get up, to greet the day, I didn't want to miss a minute of it.  As I stepped out into the early morning sunrise I felt like a child again.  Anticipation as to what the day would hold.  24 hours and it's all mine.  I can do with it as I please and nothing will be wasted.  I can be productive, organize something, clean, cook, build, or I can play.  Play- so closely linked to role playing, children becoming adults practicing what will be important to them for their own survival.  There was always a thrill in playing, and mostly in planning just what we would play.  Then there was the preparation, the fort building, exploring, collecting and setting things up just the way we wanted them. 

I went on a walk with my daughter the other day to see where her fort used to be.  It was some scrub brush and a few dead logs along the side of a small creek.  To her and her cousin (both in their 20's now)  it was a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom (complete with running water!).  And most importantly it was filled with memories.  Memories of conversation, laughter and fights............relationships.

These children had hit on something big and their "unadulterated" wisdom taught me what was truly valuable.

They worked together, built something, laughed, resolved conflict, and made so many great memories.  As adults it held something so magical for them that it called them back to see, smell, taste, touch and hear the world around them from that very spot.  It was a reminder of what was critical to them.  Relationships.

When she saw that her Dad had cleaned up around the creek, removing some of the very brush she had called her fort, and cutting up the dead logs, she mourned the loss of that special place..............a place she called home.

My fort was my home.  My home is my fort.  Living in the present like a little child, counting only what is vital to that moment creates such strong and scented memories.  I want that.  I want to make every minute count in my life. I will create a room full of memories that I can revisit over and over again....................just like I did my fort.