The Idyllic Melancholy of Youth: Nostalgia and Homesickness in Russia.

I have not updated this in a while, partially to myself becoming more involved in my studies and partially from watching Firefly (excellent show by the way, shame Fox canceled it). The urge to compose another entry came upon me today when I was returning from lunch. Occupying the lot next to the University is a primary school, and their exercise yard is right by the fence. As I walked by, I glimpsed a few boys playing in the school yard and I was instantly hit with a sense of nostalgia and memory of my youth.

Recently, some arborists had cut off the upper branches of one of the trees in the school yard, and they had left the trimmings in a large pile in the corner by the university's fence. Nearby to this pile were 5 boys playing with sticks, and one was actively breaking off another one from a large branch within the pile. As I watched, I saw one twirling two sticks in his hands as if they were swords. He walked with the confidence of a hero of old, chopping at the long grass as if it were enemies in his path. Seeing this, I immediately started to recollect playing as a child, and doing the same thing as that child was doing now. The other boys were talking amongst themselves seemingly planning what course of action to follow in order to deal with the vile foe they were facing. One boy picked up a stick and pretended to load and fire it like a Kalashnikov (what else).  Clearly these boys were inheriting the world that I had created so many years ago, and now they were creating their own ideas. Expanding on what is the curious world that is the imagination of an 8 year old boy. What new worlds had they created? Who were they portraying? What epic struggle were they enveloped in, and who were they antagonizing in their minds as the primary enemy? I was captivated by this imaginary world I had once lived in myself, but now was confined to observe through the clouded perception of  adult reality and responsibility.

Soon enough I had passed by and was once again seeing life through my (somewhat) adult perspective. This left me with an intense feeling of nostalgia and homesickness. The homesickness was really only there because thinking of my past reminds me of the places which it took place. So within this article, the matter of homesickness is of little or no relevance. What really piqued my interest was this feeling of nostalgia, and longing for the past. When I was a boy, I lived in this life of mixed existence, where the lines between imagination and reality were blurred. The worlds I created, and the things I did within my imagination sometimes seemed as real to me as playing with friends in our so-called "real" life. It is also interesting to note how easily an imaginative child can switch between the world of their mind, and the physical realm. Imagination to me, seems to be some sort of reflection of our inner consciousness, perhaps similar to dreaming while awake. There are no limits within the scope of our imagination, and the ability to do anything is a very appealing notion. Through our imaginative play, we can develop behaviors and social attitudes that will be useful for interaction with other people in the future. This sort of play usually results in physical activity, allowing the child to develop early on, a healthy lifestyle. It is for this reason that I sometimes fear for today's young generation of youth, who due to an excessive amount of artificial stimuli, seem to be lacking imaginative tendencies.

I am sure that the ability to create these environments inside one's head is not going away (as it seems to be intrinsically linked to our unique human characteristic of critical thought.), rather, most of today's children are not given the opportunity to learn how to fully utilize this ability. They are not encouraged to go out and play, instead they are provided with everything they need to have fun without the need to create it themselves. They can now satisfy that desire of their growing minds to play with artificial environments on a screen, with pre-conceived images that are tangible to the physical eye. As such, children no longer have the desire to leave the couch and run around, and the problems of childhood obesity become evident. This dire turn of events is why when I saw Russian children playing in the manner that I used to brought me such nostalgia. It is something that, sadly, I am observing less and less of this in Western culture, and I hope that parents will begin to encourage imaginative play in their children. While this can, in some cases, be attributed to a lack of good parenting and the disintegration of the family unit, it may also be a result of over-parenting. Perhaps parents should cease to fill their child's schedule with courses and programs that they insist will create a well rounded individual who will be successful in life. While I agree that specialist programs teach children valuable skills, I do not agree with saturating the child with them. Children need to be allowed to discover some aspects of humanity on their own, and the imagination is a great tool for this.

With all this in mind, I look back to my own upbringing and how I was encouraged to use my imagination. While I could usually entertain myself, and I did not have access to the plethora of readily available electronic stimuli such as the modern child, I had my own distractions, and I did not always desire to use my imagination on my own accord. When this happened, I can thank my parents for encouraging me (forcefully or otherwise [that's another issue with today's parent, they are too soft. But that is another discussion entirely]) to go out and play even when I went kicking and screaming. In those situations, I usually ended having a memorable play time none the less. In short, the imagination of a child is a valuable tool in his or her's development as a human being. It should not be replaced with electronic gadgets or a full load of programs and study. I think it is best if the child is allowed to discover themselves, with help from the parents as example.

Now excuse me while I immerse myself in a land of my own construction, free from this philosophical rhetoric.