(no subject)
Hazen has started building forts. He climbs onto the couch and systematically piles the cushions around his little body, getting frustrated to the point of tears when he can't manage to get one in the "right spot". He will then slide down deep into his tiny castle and peer out at the Tv, watching a movie or a cartoon. That's all. Just quietly inhabiting his creation with only the company of his blankie.
It's got me thinking, for I as well am a fort builder. My earliest constructions were simply a sheet over the dining room table. I would pack my "suitcase"--an empty capri-sun box--with the necessary toys and "run away" to my fort. My sister was allowed in it. Sometimes. Mostly she was too little to get the concept of privacy and pulled the sheet down. When she got old enough to participate, (and we were too big to fit safely under the table) we would drape blankets over our bunk bed and fill the bottom bunk with pillows, dolls, books...it was a very private, if not slightly stuffy hiding spot.
When I was 12, my siblings--both blood and not blood relatives--constructed our own private empire of forts. A secret path led down a secret hill into a secret area in a secret part of the woods...and we filled it with lean-to's made of sticks, branches, and leaves. Each of us got our own--and they were just big enough for us to get all the way into them and sit. The first time I invited my best friend down there she too insisted on a fort, but she wanted a big one. So the seven of us constructed a massive, tent like structure that three to four kids (or two adults) could actually walk into. Behold! Our forts! Our places away from parents, restrictions, fights, cleanliness, schedules...our protected area that we could return to any time we wanted to, and it would always be waiting there. It was perfect, private, and entirely restricted unless we chose to allow someone into it
I am an adult now...and it seems to me that I still have my forts. I have my physical fort: my room which I dramatically decorated and designed to be incredibly comfortable. And my door--well, it has a lock, a lock I use often. I have my people forts: my church, my immediate family, my friends...yes, a group of people can be a fort as well. You recognize this the moment you step into a group of people you don't know and suddenly you find you don't feel nearly as protected or confident as you do when surrounded by those you know and love. I have my emotional forts...the ability to surround my "heart" with a safety zone and not let people in uninvited. I recognized this the first time I invited someone into that fort and they decided to metaphorically spray graffiti on the walls of it. Graffiti takes a looong time to wash off...
As I watch my young charge perform his daily construction, I conclude that we are all born with the innate desire to build forts, and though the methods of how we build those walls changes through our lives, it never entirely dissipates. Perhaps you haven't built the same "forts" I have. Perhaps you are one of those fortunate individuals who doesn't need to. I envy you. I sometimes think that I build mine too quickly and maybe a little too securely for I am not an individual who enjoys being outside of my comfort zone. I like the security and safety that surrounding walls give. See, I am coming to a place in my life where I need to make several major changes, and frankly, I'm scared to. I sometimes feel like crawlinginto Hazen's couch cushionswith him (I can't though, he hits me with his sippy cup when I do). I'm not complaining, I eagerly look forward to the end results such changes will bring, and yet mentally I only see myself dragging new bricks and morter to lay the foundation of new forts.
I can't think of any creative way to finish this entry. So I'm just going to go instigate a cheerioattack on Hazen's castle. I may not make it out alive, so wish me luck.
It's got me thinking, for I as well am a fort builder. My earliest constructions were simply a sheet over the dining room table. I would pack my "suitcase"--an empty capri-sun box--with the necessary toys and "run away" to my fort. My sister was allowed in it. Sometimes. Mostly she was too little to get the concept of privacy and pulled the sheet down. When she got old enough to participate, (and we were too big to fit safely under the table) we would drape blankets over our bunk bed and fill the bottom bunk with pillows, dolls, books...it was a very private, if not slightly stuffy hiding spot.
When I was 12, my siblings--both blood and not blood relatives--constructed our own private empire of forts. A secret path led down a secret hill into a secret area in a secret part of the woods...and we filled it with lean-to's made of sticks, branches, and leaves. Each of us got our own--and they were just big enough for us to get all the way into them and sit. The first time I invited my best friend down there she too insisted on a fort, but she wanted a big one. So the seven of us constructed a massive, tent like structure that three to four kids (or two adults) could actually walk into. Behold! Our forts! Our places away from parents, restrictions, fights, cleanliness, schedules...our protected area that we could return to any time we wanted to, and it would always be waiting there. It was perfect, private, and entirely restricted unless we chose to allow someone into it
I am an adult now...and it seems to me that I still have my forts. I have my physical fort: my room which I dramatically decorated and designed to be incredibly comfortable. And my door--well, it has a lock, a lock I use often. I have my people forts: my church, my immediate family, my friends...yes, a group of people can be a fort as well. You recognize this the moment you step into a group of people you don't know and suddenly you find you don't feel nearly as protected or confident as you do when surrounded by those you know and love. I have my emotional forts...the ability to surround my "heart" with a safety zone and not let people in uninvited. I recognized this the first time I invited someone into that fort and they decided to metaphorically spray graffiti on the walls of it. Graffiti takes a looong time to wash off...
As I watch my young charge perform his daily construction, I conclude that we are all born with the innate desire to build forts, and though the methods of how we build those walls changes through our lives, it never entirely dissipates. Perhaps you haven't built the same "forts" I have. Perhaps you are one of those fortunate individuals who doesn't need to. I envy you. I sometimes think that I build mine too quickly and maybe a little too securely for I am not an individual who enjoys being outside of my comfort zone. I like the security and safety that surrounding walls give. See, I am coming to a place in my life where I need to make several major changes, and frankly, I'm scared to. I sometimes feel like crawlinginto Hazen's couch cushionswith him (I can't though, he hits me with his sippy cup when I do). I'm not complaining, I eagerly look forward to the end results such changes will bring, and yet mentally I only see myself dragging new bricks and morter to lay the foundation of new forts.
I can't think of any creative way to finish this entry. So I'm just going to go instigate a cheerioattack on Hazen's castle. I may not make it out alive, so wish me luck.