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Since my stroke it has been problematic to get my weekly upload of 'innocence' and in these times that is much needed. My source is Skylar, the daughter of Emily Auchter, and the granddaughter of Bonni Stover. Today, August 9, 2020, is Skylar's third birthday. The remainder of this blog was written one year earlier.
Since my stroke it has been problematic to get my weekly upload of 'innocence' and in these times that is much needed. My source is Skylar, the daughter of Emily Auchter, and the granddaughter of Bonni Stover. Today, August 9, 2020, is Skylar's third birthday. The remainder of this blog was written one year earlier.
Must admit to being an “innocence vampire”; having such a hunger for innocence, believing it to be the stuff of a joyous life. Sometimes feel like a stalking vampire seeking out young children's lifeblood of innocence. You see, it has been my seminal aspiration over the last two decades to revert back to experiencing all life has to offer as that of a 3-year old child in the sandbox.
Must admit to being an “innocence vampire”; having such a hunger for innocence, believing it to be the stuff of a joyous life. Sometimes feel like a stalking vampire seeking out young children's lifeblood of innocence. You see, it has been my seminal aspiration over the last two decades to revert back to experiencing all life has to offer as that of a 3-year old child in the sandbox.
My recurring inspirational dream is playing in the sandbox when all of a sudden, cast into shadow, two humongous boots slam down in the sand, one with fresh drops of blood on it. I slowly raise my head to take in this huge archetypal Genghis Khan bad guy holding a long curved Excalibur sword dripping blood. I look up, make eye contact, smile and ask: “Do you want to play?” I see he is very confused by my innocence, literally unarmed by it as he is used to others being afraid. After a few head 'to and fro's', he buries his sword half deep in the sand and sits down in front of me. He obviously wants to interact, and, as I am in innocence without fear, he gets that our interaction is only going to take place in play.
My recurring inspirational dream is playing in the sandbox when all of a sudden, cast into shadow, two humongous boots slam down in the sand, one with fresh drops of blood on it. I slowly raise my head to take in this huge archetypal Genghis Khan bad guy holding a long curved Excalibur sword dripping blood. I look up, make eye contact, smile and ask: “Do you want to play?” I see he is very confused by my innocence, literally unarmed by it as he is used to others being afraid. After a few head 'to and fro's', he buries his sword half deep in the sand and sits down in front of me. He obviously wants to interact, and, as I am in innocence without fear, he gets that our interaction is only going to take place in play.
Normally this here vampire seeks out an hour with Bonni's granddaughter Skylar a couple times a month (the picture). But yesterday it was when I was walking up to get in the checkout line at Aldi's. A young mother arrives at about the same time, and insists that I go ahead of her. I see behind her, with his back to me a small child riding in the cart, so insist that she go in front me so I can meet her child. She acquiesces, moves to the front of her cart, and pulls it into the line to unload her groceries on to the conveyor. Because I do not have a cart, preferring to carry bags, I end up face to face with a beaming light of a child. I loom large over him, maybe not the bad guy in my dreams, but he is so open, inviting, innocent. I squat down to his level, bring my face right up to his and he reaches out to grab my braids . . . they are not called my 'love handles' for nothing. I ask his name, he giggles with excitement, and mumbles “Enzo”. We play, but then mom has unloaded and needs to move the cart.
Normally this here vampire seeks out an hour with Bonni's granddaughter Skylar a couple times a month (the picture). But yesterday it was when I was walking up to get in the checkout line at Aldi's. A young mother arrives at about the same time, and insists that I go ahead of her. I see behind her, with his back to me a small child riding in the cart, so insist that she go in front me so I can meet her child. She acquiesces, moves to the front of her cart, and pulls it into the line to unload her groceries on to the conveyor. Because I do not have a cart, preferring to carry bags, I end up face to face with a beaming light of a child. I loom large over him, maybe not the bad guy in my dreams, but he is so open, inviting, innocent. I squat down to his level, bring my face right up to his and he reaches out to grab my braids . . . they are not called my 'love handles' for nothing. I ask his name, he giggles with excitement, and mumbles “Enzo”. We play, but then mom has unloaded and needs to move the cart.
I stand, start to unload my bags, and comment to her on how much joy Enzo emanates; that not for one second has he broken eye contact or stopped beaming on me. She replies that Enzo is their miracle child, and answers my curious eyes thusly. Enzo is 28 months old, born 4-months premature, was 8 months old before being able to come home, and then 6 weeks later had open-heart surgery. I squat back down with whole new eyes to take in the power of innocence that is the essence of Enzo . . . no past, no future, just now, a time to play.
I stand, start to unload my bags, and comment to her on how much joy Enzo emanates; that not for one second has he broken eye contact or stopped beaming on me. She replies that Enzo is their miracle child, and answers my curious eyes thusly. Enzo is 28 months old, born 4-months premature, was 8 months old before being able to come home, and then 6 weeks later had open-heart surgery. I squat back down with whole new eyes to take in the power of innocence that is the essence of Enzo . . . no past, no future, just now, a time to play.
So this here 'innocence vampire' is sated this day, inspired to pull off an “Enzo” each and every day.
So this here 'innocence vampire' is sated this day, inspired to pull off an “Enzo” each and every day.
“I cried when I wrote this song, sue me if I played too long.” Deacon Blue
“I cried when I wrote this song, sue me if I played too long.” Deacon Blue
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