Time is a game played beautifully by children. ~ Heraclitus
I told Warren I was resigning my membership as a fully certified card-carrying grown up. I've never been good at it anyway, certainly never enjoyed it, and quite frankly think we'd all be much better off if I just went back to the small table in the corner with the crayons and fizzy drink. He thought it was funny. I'm quite serious.
When you sit at the small table in the corner with the crayons and fizzy drink you get to do one thing without judgement or fear that grown ups never seem to get to do, at least not often, or often enough. Play. Not take rest breaks, or mental health days, or meditate for stress release. Not find work/life balance, or seek happiness, or pursue a passion. Not start a hobby, or an amateur vocation. Not find meaning or make a contribution or earn your right to existence. Not monetise your joy. Just ... play. Colour the sky pink, wear a hard hat with a tutu, make flower soup, build a fort, sing, create an alternate universe from lumps of plastic.
I might have physically grown but I hope I am always in the process of growing up. Play grows vitality and play grows wonder; mix those two things together and you have yourself something like a rocket fuel for living. Supersized wellbeing juice with a side serving of joy. It can't point you in the right direction or build you a space ship, but if its a universe you want to go explore, you're going to need to remember how to play.
I'll write you some instructions. Just wait while I go get my crayons.