you were a child crawling on your knees

Amstronge

2 min read

·

16-04-2025

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Rediscovering the World: My Life on My Knees

The world was a vast, mysterious landscape when I was a child, viewed not from the lofty heights of adulthood, but from the humble perspective of my knees. I remember the cool, smooth tiles of the kitchen floor, a tactile map charting my explorations. Each journey was a grand adventure, a thrilling expedition across uncharted territory.

The Sensory Symphony of the Floor

The floor wasn't just a surface; it was a multi-sensory experience. The rough texture of the carpet tickled my knees, a constant, comforting sensation. The smooth coolness of hardwood floors offered a stark contrast, a refreshing change after the plush embrace of the rug. Each material, each temperature, provided a unique form of feedback, shaping my understanding of the world around me.

The scent of the floor itself varied greatly. The faint, lingering aroma of lemon polish in the hallway, the comforting scent of freshly mopped wood, the earthy musk of the basement—each olfactory cue was a landmark, a signpost on my crawling map.

A World of Discovery

My hands were my primary tools of discovery. They scoured the surfaces, feeling the intricate details of wood grain, the soft fluff of a rug, the cold, hard reality of a dropped toy. Everything was new, exciting, a potential source of wonder.

I remember the thrill of reaching a new destination: the comforting warmth of a sunbeam slanting across the living room floor, the enticing gleam of a dropped cookie crumb, the vibrant colours of a dropped toy. These were my Everest's, my Mount Everests, scaled with determined scrambles and triumphant gasps.

The Challenges and Triumphs

Crawling wasn't easy. There were obstacles. The dreaded threshold of the doorway, a formidable barrier that demanded a strategic approach, a careful assessment of the angles and a burst of sudden energy. There were also the falls. The inevitable tumbles, the bruised knees, the surprised whimpers. But these were quickly forgotten in the rush of discovery. Each tumble was a lesson learned, a skill honed.

The sheer effort involved in each crawl was a significant part of the experience. The burn in my arms and legs, the rhythmic push and pull of my small body, the concentration required to navigate the complex terrain of the house; it was all a testament to my dogged determination, my innate human desire to explore.

A Perspective Gained

Looking back, crawling on my knees was more than just a developmental stage. It was a profound immersion into the world, a perspective that allowed me to appreciate the small details, the textures, the scents, the vastness of the seemingly small spaces of our home. It instilled in me a sense of wonder, a love of exploration, a spirit of adventure. It taught me the rewards of persistence, the joys of discovery, and the resilience of the human spirit – all from the ground up. The world was a wondrous place, seen from the ground, inch by painstaking inch. And those knees? They bore witness to it all.