but the joy of childhood seems inextricable from a sense of hope for the future
That doesn’t match my recollection of what the joy of childhood was like. To the extent that I can recall, a lot of the joy came specifically from the fact that I didn’t think of the future, and most of the things that I enjoyed were ones that felt intrinsically meaningful to do in that moment. As an adult, there are lots of considerations of “do I have the time for this”, “is this actually useful to do”, etc.; as a child, none of that mattered—something being fun to do was all the reason I needed for doing it. (And I had a lot more fun as a result.)
I did have an abstract understanding that one day I’ll be an adult, but especially pre-puberty, there was no real expectation for that because it felt so remote. It was a thing that I understood intellectually, but which felt utterly unreal and impossible to imagine emotionally.
That doesn’t match my recollection of what the joy of childhood was like. To the extent that I can recall, a lot of the joy came specifically from the fact that I didn’t think of the future, and most of the things that I enjoyed were ones that felt intrinsically meaningful to do in that moment. As an adult, there are lots of considerations of “do I have the time for this”, “is this actually useful to do”, etc.; as a child, none of that mattered—something being fun to do was all the reason I needed for doing it. (And I had a lot more fun as a result.)
I did have an abstract understanding that one day I’ll be an adult, but especially pre-puberty, there was no real expectation for that because it felt so remote. It was a thing that I understood intellectually, but which felt utterly unreal and impossible to imagine emotionally.