I love jumping barefoot in puddles, especially when I was a kid, but every once in a while you will find me doing it now. Right in front of my home there is a dip in the road that makes a perfect puddle for jumping. The sidewalk from my front porch to the street indents into the earth, so I have a mud puddle to play in when I don’t care about dirty feet, and dirty floors. It’s the imperfections of the street and sidewalk that make them perfect. I know some people like that, too.

My mother always encouraged us to use creativity in our play. For a time, we lived in an apartment that had an outdoor stairwell with an inviting patch of dirt under it that was perfect for making mud pies. Mom would give us pie tins and we would fill them up with mud, topping them off with sticks and rocks for decoration. We know today that digging in the dirt releases a microbacterium vaccae, which triggers the release of serotonin in our brain. Serotonin is a natural anti depressant that also helps bolster the immune system.

When we played indoors, we had access to furniture and blankets to make caves, tents, and secret hiding places. One of the houses we lived in had giant “cubbies” that you could crawl into and curl up with a flashlight and a book. Reading was always fun, in part, because we could create inventive reading spaces. We were three blocks from a public library, and I remember going through a phase where I wanted to read about the Salem Witch Trials, and I walked to the library and checked out a few books to soothe my curiosity. As an adult, I would see the movie The Crucible with my best friend, and sitting next to her would be as thrilling as the movie was disturbing. Curiosity sometimes requires great courage.

I hope we can all find a way to recreate the childlike wonder that remains in us as memories, and celebrate a new way of seeing, doing and being. We all deserve to relate to the world with fascination and curiosity.