Go Fly a Kite

I don’t think I had a deprived childhood by any means but yesterday at 49 I flew a kite for the first time in my life. Boy was it fun.

I’m not sure what it means to be an adult. I don’t feel like one, doing everything I can to avoid schedule and structure that ties me down. I am much more into play. This is one of the main appeals to me about the yoga practice; we have mats and blankets—we take naps. Just like being back in kindergarten.

What is adulthood but an attempt to continue childhood? Or something like that. I still feel and behave like an adolescent in most ways. Mine is the generation of slack and I embody it in a fairly profound way.

I have two little kids and I am often trying to figure out what my take on the world is going to mean for them. Will my slack be there slack? Will they channel my laziness into ambition of their own?

I have no idea but it was a lot of fun to fly a kite.

Tibial dynamic.