As a child I was confused by a story about a kid torturing himself by trying not to think about orange penguins. The intended moral was that it’s impossible to not think about something. But I never understood why you wouldn’t want to think about orange penguins. They seemed fun!
I never really grew out of childishness.
It’s just so fun. Children get to be curious, silly, and playful. And there’s something delightfully mindful about the capacity they have to get absorbed in an activity for hours on end.
I often feel pressure, like questions are burnt into my brain by endless repetition:
I was intending to write the next part of the series about anxiety, but I accidentally wrote a story about a cake instead. I’m sorry. The Story About A Cake “Hello,” said the cake. “Have you ever met a talking cake before?”