She is 14 months old, and she can just about walk. Crawling is so yesterday that every movement is prefaced by the laborious squat and lifting of her body. Her toddle is determined, yet wobbly and slow. Every step an effort of balance and work against gravity. Her eyes ever attentive, she watches with glee the ball game between her sister and their grampa. The eyes follow the ball, until she joins in, squeaking with delight.
She is slow, barely manages to move towards the ball. Catching is out of question, but she can lunge when it escapes the hold of the 4 year old. Just occasionally, she wins the race, when the ball is oh so close to her and the big sister oh so far away. With the ball in her hand, sporting a proud smile, she toddles towards granny and delighted passes the ball to her.
She is playing catch and throw. Only she can't catch and she can't throw. Her world, unlike ours, is not limited by cans and cannots. She is playing catch and throw with all her might. She is part of the game, it's her game just as much as it is ours. She is the game. There is no self conciousness holding her back because she has no sense of self, just a sense of the game.
And I start to imagine a world without self conciousness. A world where everyone just joined in, with all their might, with all their determination and regardless of "ability", to take part without any sense of success or failure, being lesser or better than anyone else. Where everyone is just as good a player as anyone else, and plays their own unique part, with conviction and pride.
Through her 14 months old eyes, I may just have glimpsed a beautiful world.