I may be alone on this one, but do you ever have a moment where you suddenly feel like you're back in your kid body, sitting in a board meeting, driving your car, having dinner at a posh restaurant—pretending to be a grown up?
Today I was in the conference room with some coworkers, talking about an upcoming project when suddenly I was 8 again and wondering how the hell I got there. How did I end up in the adult world? Did I fall through a worm hole?
I have to wonder if all of you—or if all of the world—feels this way. Like a bunch of little children just performing the roles of adults like actors on a stage. When we're unsure of our lines, we make stuff up. When we have wardrobe or set malfunctions, we improvise. We convince our audience—each other. But inside, we're still the same people we were in third grade.
This past Saturday, I attended birthday parties for a four-year-old and a thirty-year-old. Tutus and princess dresses vs. vodka and tonic. Twenty-six years may have separated the two situations but actually, I think the attendees weren't too far apart from one another. And you know what? I wouldn't want it any other way. Because those little kids inside all of us are what keep us full of wonder.