A few weeks ago I took pictures of my son, Henry, and his friends at soccer practice. Henry (the one on the left) is ten years old...and eleven is coming up pretty fast in August.

Looking at this picture got me thinking about being ten years old.
I remember thinking to myself that "I can't believe I'm ten"...and I remember lying in bed at night thinking what a big number 10 was. And I hoped and prayed that my dad wouldn't die, because my mom was around 10 or so when her dad died suddenly. Age ten came with risks, with an awareness of mortality. But it also came with dreams.
What did you love to do when you were ten?
I loved to draw and write. I wrote a family newspaper. I wrote articles on our family's adventures and taped pictures inside.
I drew pictures of girls, fashion women, homes, tables, chairs, corner shops...whatever I could imagine.
I felt joy when I created, when I moved my body (I was tiny and gymnastics was my sport), when I expressed myself through writing and art, and I adored family and all it stood for.
What was 10 like for you?
What were your joys, your dreams? Do you still have them?
I find that I am re-discovering them...surrendering to the simple loves of childhood.
And it feels right.
xo
jody