Finding Neverland

I just recently read J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan. Before reading it, I knew only Disney's take on the boy who wouldn't grow up. I found the actual book to be much darker (not too surprising, seeing as how just about anything that doesn't include cheerfully chatty woodland creatures is darker than Disney) than the beloved Disney classic film. Barrie's Peter is far more menacing and impish. I think he even entered unpleasantly into my dreams a few nights. However he may be presented in different renditions, I love the overall idea of Peter Pan. The boy who wouldn't grow up. The idea sometimes brings to mind that annoying Toys R' Us theme song that repeats over and over in your head when you hear it. You know the one........ "I don't wanna' grow up, I'm a Toys R' Us kid........" You can now thank me for putting that song in your head on instant replay! The idea is enchanting though......and some people take it quite literally, although, unfortunately, the 40-year old perpetual "ladies' man" with a beer gut is not quite so charming as the perpetual boy with the green tights and the impish gleam in his eye. Though we may not all be able to pull of the whole tight thing, I think it is important for all of us to have our own sort of personal Neverland (and, no, I am not referring to a "ranch" where we invite children to "sleep over"). I mean some place in our mind, or perhaps even a physical location, where we feel safe enough to completely let our guard down, to be unabashed, to be a kid again. My Neverland is writing. When I take a pen ( or a keyboard) in hand, all the walls come down. Things I didn't even know I thought, and truths that have been buried in the recesses of my mind and heart come tumbling out. (whether this is always a good thing may be debatable). But when I write, it brings me to that magical place where anything is possible. My Neverland is in the endless possibilities of words on a page. Though my blog posts are usually spontaneous and completely unedited ( with the exception of a few back spaces and an occasional spell check), I have a personal journal at home that I like to call my "word vomit" journal. Perhaps not the most pleasant name, but that is essentially what it is. It is my no holds barred, no walls up, no "grown up" pretences, write whatever comes to mind journal. I would encourage everyone to occasionally practice the exercise of vomiting words. You may be surprised what comes out! Or, if writing is not your thing, find your Neverland, whatever it may be, whether it's music, a beautiful garden, a spot on the beach.......find somewhere or something that takes you back to that childlike state of not caring what anyone else thinks.

Why is is that we have to rediscover Neverland? When do we leave it in the first place? There seem to be a few people who never do, like Dr. Seuss. He had a lifetime pass to the land of perpetual youth; I am sure of it. How, over the course of years, do most of us become so jaded? When do dandelions become obnoxious weeds instead of the first miracle of Spring? When do stars stop twinkling? As parents of young children, we get guest passes to Neverland. We can go there with our children anytime we are willing to let our guard down and be fully in the moment with them. But, as parents, we also enter an entirely new type of Neverland; it is Neveragainland. With each day, week, month and year that passes, we begin to realize that our children will never again be quite so innocent and full of wonder and curiosity as they are this very day. With each first accomplishment, we are brought abruptly to the land of Neveragain. When our baby takes his/her first step, we will never again hold them in our arms as a tiny infant, but as a toddler. The first day of kindergarten, we will never again drop our child off at their very first day of school. And so it will continue, until the day comes when our children will never again live within the walls of our own home, safe under our constant care. And with each journey to Neveragainland, our children slowly, incrementally, begin to forget how to find Neverland themselves.

This is why it is so important that we as adults find our own way back to Neverland; so that when our children's' vision of it begins to grow dim, we can remind them that it does in fact exist, though maybe in a more "adult" word called hope. We cannot completely shut out the harsh realities which naturally await everyone along the path of growing up. But we can still hope that, despite the ugliness that surrounds us, that the beauty which abounds in this life far outweighs it. No matter what your own personal Neverland may be, find it. Go there often. Peter Pan gave his own directions: "Second star to the right and straight on til morning." I think the real directions to Neverland may be this: Find the thing, place or memory that fills you with so much hope that there is little room for anything else, and open your whole heart to it. Maybe that sounds cheesy enough for Disney. But, then again, I don't think Walt Disney ever left Neverland either.