When I was younger, I used to think I could breathe underwater. If I just closed my eyes, stayed submerged for long enough, and really willed myself to do it, I was convinced that it was possible. And for some reason, even after I broke the surface in a spluttering mess, I would dive back down a few minutes later. Again and again. And one day, I swore it worked! One day, I thought I actually took a breath from underneath the serene waves. I remember hesitating for a second, and then bursting out of the water in gleeful astonishment. And for a long string of months after the event, I believed that I had, in the most fleeting of moments, become a real live fish, and taken a breath underwater.
Didn't we all do and believe in silly things like this as children, thinking that it could be real as long as we kept trying? There must be something you can think of that you used to believe was possible.
Ah, the pure persistence of a child -- to conquer what defies the laws of nature so that dreams might turn into realities. But is that only applicable to a child's mind? If someone was to have maintained this mentality, someone who is not a child but has, say, just turned eighteen ... might it still be called happy, child-like naievete? Or is it muddled by experience, so that it's now just plain stupidity?
Nowadays, sitting at our desks with overwhelming piles of books and work before us, it takes some effort to sit back, relax for a second -- and remember to breathe.
Sometimes, like now, I stop and remember when I used to think I could transform myself into a creature who could do anything, even if it meant defying my nature and breathing underwater.
I don't remember when I stopped believing that was possible.
Maybe it was when I stopped remembering to sit back, relax for a second -- and remember to breathe.
