You sit down in a swing. You wiggle back, making sure you are snug in the slightly uncomfortable fit of the seat. You kick your legs. Again, you kick them. And you're catching air. You are reaching higher and higher, your back becoming more level with the ground the higher you are. You look up at the sky. The sky is budding with stars, the last orange rays of light slowly fading into the ground. The clouds are still holding pink from the sunset. The top of the world is slowly leeching its dark blue down onto the horizon. And you breathe in. The evening air fills your lungs as it presses against your body. The breeze pushes against you as you swing up, up, up. You feel like you can fly. You feel like you are eight again. And then you fly.

My first instinct when it rains is to splash around in the puddles. At Ole Miss, our sidewalks have dips that are impassible in a downpour, and you can find yourself ankle-deep in rainwater at times. It can make for a miserable day. That is, unless you yearn to jump in those puddles -- I recommend not jumping in them when people are around. We lived in Florida for my kindergarten and first grade years. Whenever there was water that wasn't accompanied by lightning and thunder, my brother and I would race from our porch to the tree at the end of our backyard. We would run back, hair plastered to our faces and laughing from the soppy messes we had become. When we moved to Alabama, we got our younger brother to run in the rain once. He did it just in his underwear. It was a memorable moment.

Wanting to run in the rain makes you feel like a kid, much like swinging to fly does. If you can jump in puddles, you have no worries. There is nowhere you are going that doesn't permit you to be there while soaking wet. Your purpose in life is to find fun in whatever you are doing. You are there to imagine what can be.

You lose this as you grow older. It's no longer acceptable for you to show up in muddy clothes. There are rules you have to follow, and it's no longer cute when you try to question them. Growing up tries to kill the kid inside of you. You shouldn't let that happen. Now, you have schedules and essays to write and bedrooms to clean. That doesn't mean you can't still be imaginative. While you're cleaning your room, you can still try on all of your outfits and dance to your favorite songs. You can still play Pokemon (conveniently in new app form). You can still draw and pretend and believe in the good of the world. When you're an adult, don't forget that once you leapt off a swing because you thought you could fly. Keep jumping. Keep flying.