I believe that when I was a child, I flew, or at least floated.
I have a memory of standing at the edge of the long driveway at my grandparents house. I remember running down the driveway and I began to float about halfway, almost like the kids in Peter Pan when they’re sprinkled with pixie dust. I was not high off the ground, maybe less than a foot… but I remember the feeling, the surprise, and the excitement. When I reached the truck shed I dropped back to my feet, I think because someone came outside.
I know it sounds insane, but I honestly believe it happened. I believe that children are able to see and do things that adults can’t, because children aren’t dragged down by the adult perception of reality. I believed it could happen, honestly with all my heart, and it did. Even if I tried it now it wouldn’t work, because my adult mind thinks it knows what’s impossible, and even if I tried to believe I could fly, I couldn’t.
I’ve confided to my husband about this, but I thought maybe I would share it here too. He believes me. Do you?
