In my last post, I introduced you to my inner child, Beth. Now, I’d like to back up and explain how that scenario became possible. While being a stay-at-home mother, I did a great deal of reading, much of it fiction. But, would stray into other areas on occasion. I read a great deal of psychology, spirituality, and other things that simply interested me. One of those things was about dream work. I had always had very vivid dreams and could, more often than not, recall them in detail. I was also interested in Native American spirituality and that led to an interest in mythology and symbolism.
All of that led to an idea that it would be great if I could somehow learn how to dream while consciously awake. Remember, I was alone at the time, and there was no one around to point out the sheer illogical reality of that thought. The up-shoot of that reading, and dreamy sort of thinking, eventually led to the creation of my Personal Mythology. The beginnings of which can be found here on this site by typing in the title words A Tiger Named Pain.
Once I began to be comfortable with spontaneous imagery, the thought of using it to meet my inner child made all kinds of sense. The imagery was a direct link to my subconscious mind, all of my memories, thoughts and feelings. My inner child had to exist within that space, all I had to do was be willing to try it. And that was the hard part. That willingness was not easily obtained because I was extremely fearful of the outcome. Yes, I understood that this was going on inside my head, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t effect my emotions.
I knew I had abandoned that child, left her there alone in the back forty swampland, of my own mind, to fend for herself. She had to hate me, intensely. How do you seek, or even begin to expect forgiveness, under those circumstances? I mulled around with those types of questions for weeks. Finally realizing it was just plain fear that was holding me back. I had come to know that fear is never a good reason for delaying the inevitable.
All I had to do was breathe deeply and close my eyes. And she was there, had been waiting, all of that time, for me to come to my senses. She even shushed me when I sought forgiveness. She had been sure that I would find my way, at some point. That trust, which she offered so freely, was a priceless gift, one among many.
Our second encounter was, to say the least, mind blowing. She came to me and told me there was something she wanted to show me. Held out her hand and asked me to follow her. I did. She took me into those woods she had originally stepped out from. Led me to a beautiful meadow, she called her Secret Garden. There she asked me to sit, and just watch. She stepped into the center of that clearing and began to dance, to music she, herself, had created. I was mesmerized. Only slowly coming to realize that she was the very center of imagination, and thus: creativity.
It was she who had led me to those books I’d been reading. She, who had created the Mythology from my own story. She who had taught me how to deal with, and become friends with the wild creatures that inhabited it, and had taught me so much about my own life and living. She, who had nurtured my curiosity, while feeding my thirst for knowledge and personal awareness. She, who with the greatest of patience, had guarded and defended me from the bogeymen of fears that would have stopped all of it.
There is so much to be learned by seeking out our inner child. She is a precious gift that continues to give of herself. And I am grateful.