I seem to forget and relearn all the ways of being with my Inner Child. I’ve been in a busy and exciting time with a poetry presentation that went very well; the audience loved it. But all the praise started to feel a bit toxic. Everyone meant well, but inside me, it felt tangled and sticky.
Yesterday I finally asked my Little Girl, What is it you need? What’s up? She said, I just want to play and make a mess and not be good at anything. I want to be ordinary.
Ah! I got it. When I was a child, I needed to earn my parents’ attention. They wanted me to be good at everything I did—to excel, really. Praise started to take over my inner life. It was hard to do something in an average way and hard to do something just for the joy of it, even though I was an energetic child who loved doing things.
Today I’ve been messing with art work and remembering how satisfying that is. I scribbled and put the energy into muddled, untidy clots of color. I don’t have to be good at it! Slowly I rediscover my own soul in the jumble of shapes and colors. Play and inner satisfaction take over from the desire to shine.