So, while reading CS Lewis's Surprised by Joy, my heart gave a little flutter when I came upon the following:
I number it among my blessings that my father had no car, while yet most of my friends had, and sometimes took me for a drive. This meant that all these distant objects could be visited just enough to clothe them with memories and not impossible desires, while yet they remained ordinarily as inacccessible as the Moon.
The deadly power of rushing about wherever I pleased had not been given me.
I measured distances by the standard of man, man walking on his two feet, not by the standard of the internal combustion engine. I had not been allowed to deflower the very idea of distance; in return I possessed "infinte riches:" in what would have been to motorists "a little room."
The truest and most horrible claim made for modern transport is that it "annihilates space." It does. It annihilates one of the most glorious gifts we have been given. It is a vile inflation which lowers the value of distance, so that a modern boy travels a hundred miles with less sense of liberation and pilgrimage and adventure than his grandfather got from traveling ten. Of course if a man hates space and wants it to be annihilated, that is another matter. Why not creep into his coffin at once? There is little enough space there. (ch. 10)
I'm still chewing on this little piece of wisdom and how to broadly incorporate it into my family life. How have you created opportunities for thrilling discoveries in your children's lives?
Thanks for stopping by-