9 years old teaching

My 9-year-old wrote a beautiful poem, a song, about finding himself by looking at the ocean. It's perfect and resonates deeply.

What surprised me wasn't that he did it, but the sudden realization that I stopped writing songs and poems a while ago—for some unknown reason. The same reason I stopped singing, dancing, and expressing joy in simple, natural ways.

And I suspect I'm not alone.

Yet, at festivals or concerts, you witness people stepping out of their routines, singing, dancing, moving freely. It's liberating—a momentary escape from life's treadmill, responsibilities, and everything else, just being in the flow.

Reflecting on this, I now recognize the melancholy I saw in my parents' eyes at times when I was growing up. Similar sudden realizations must have hit them too.

I won't give up easily without a hard fight. Instead, I'll get uncomfortable and follow the inspiring examples of my younger son and my past self to keep that light and fire burning.