Growing Older doesn't have to mean Growing Up

When I was really young the summers went on forever. I know it's a cliché but it's true. Every day seemed an age and I spent it playing outside with friends with nothing to be concerned about apart from the tongue-lashing I'd get from my mother if I was late home for dinner.

No cares. No worries. No problems.

If I wasn't running around I was usually curled up somewhere reading, creating mental pictures of tales that could never come true. My own imagination filled in the gaps between the words on the page, making them even more lifelike. I wanted the stories to be real, to live them myself. Of course, when I was really little it was fairy tales, first told to my by my dad but later I learned to read them on my own. And then came adventure stories. Explorers in far-flung places, even outer space. Nothing was impossible if only I could suspend belief for a while.

Of course when I became an adult all that changed. Life tends to get in the way of fun. I hardly had time for reading anything beyond the newspaper stories of war and economic downturn. I had work to do, bills to pay, domestic problems to tend to. I used to think that videogames were time-thieves but they're nothing compared to housework.

Sometimes I'm asked, "How come you go to Disney so often?" The person asking usually says it as if it's wrong for me to do so. As is it's wrong to want to leave the stress of work and a busy life behind or to return, albeit temporarily, to the days when I didn't have to be so responsible.

For many of us the park, be it in California or Florida, is in a sunnier climate than we see at home. It's an echo of the long, hot summers of out youth, whatever decade those years were in. We can play outside all day long without fear. Nobody even calls us in for our meals.

And the things I loved when I was little? The playing outside, the stories? They're all here all under one great big-sky roof. I loved them as a kid and, if I allow myself to, I can love them as an adult too. As Walt Disney himself said, "Adults are only kids grown up, anyway."

On top of this there are the characters, those walking representations of the mice, bears, chipmunks etc. that previously only existed on screen and comic books. Meeting them is like reuniting with old friends that we might not have seen since our childhood but with none of those awkward "will they still remember me" moments. The characters don’t care about the things you hate about yourself. They don't judge. They love unconditionally, even those who are supposed to be villains. At the Disney parks you leave your outside self behind.

Many of us get to take our children with us back into our memories and - crucially - they love being there just as much as we do. Thankfully we don't have to resort to the sad old clichés about how good things were "in my day" for once, because they're just as good now. That awful generation gap is removed. Sure, we may be drawn to different activities within the park but we're all there together, young and old. Whether the Princess of your formative years was Cinderella, Ariel or even Anna and Elsa, you'll be catered for. It's about shared experiences. Shared cultural references. Shared fun. Being in the parks brings out the sense of belonging that we all need. Everyone who passes under the entrance railway tunnel and on to Main Street is of the same tribe, one extended Disney family. Hopefully it's a place we're all a little more tolerant, a little kinder than we might be at home with very few voices of dissent.

The so-called important stuff of our usual lives can be put on hold for the few days or so that we're in the parks. Whether you're an annual pass-carrying local, someone who has saved for years for that once in a lifetime trip across the country or even a foreign writer who fell in love with this most American of American dreams, being in a Disney park can recharge our batteries safe in the knowledge that, if Walt Disney and his successors can create such magic here then maybe, just maybe, we can take a little bit of it home with us to make our lives and that of those we come into contact with a bit better. Pixie dust has a habit of hanging around.

Shaun Finnie is a writer from England. He has written several Disney books and articles and visits the theme parks as often as he can - which isn't nearly as often as he'd like.

More details at www.shaunfinnie.com