Imagine with me a toddler, let's say two years old,

walking around a living room and picking things up.

And the things that he or she's picking up,

they're using for play.

In other words, not the original use that these objects were designed for.

Right?

The kid is picking it up and inserting it into his or her own worldview

the way that makes sense to the child.

There's not courage involved there.

That's innate.

That's built into the kid, right?

Like our lungs breathing in oxygen.

It's involuntary.

Doesn't need to be taught.

But somehow, there becomes a point when this is no longer the case.

When the object's intended use and history

takes center stage,

and the launching pad that was once our imagination now exists simply to stack supposed-toes and obligations.

After all, we no longer need living room tents.

Flashlights or tire swings.

For what?

Our driver becomes not making mistakes, blending in, not failing, falling, or getting dirt on our hands.

...