Tag Archives: inner child

Feeling Self-Love

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I asked my inner critic to go on vacation
and invited my inner child to come out of hiding.
She still doesn’t trust me all the way.
I don’t blame her.
For so long I derived my identity
from a man who was unkind to me;
I tolerated the way he spoke to me,
accepted crumbs of affection,
thought this was the best I could do.
Now I need to build trust in myself,
and demonstrate to this little girl
that I am strong and capable enough
to provide for her,
that I love her,
that I am glad she is here,
and she is the most important person in my life.
Instead of just thinking about self-love,
I am working on feeling it, living it, expressing it.
God, show me how to love and care for myself
the way you love and care for me.

Getting A Lot Right

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You know, he said,
You really are getting a lot of this right.
And I took this in,
and I wondered why I fixated so
on everything I thought I was doing wrong.
Could it have been the way I was spoken to
during my marriage?
Or was it the way I was spoken to
when I was a child?
I’m thinking both.
I’m thinking what I learned as a child
led me to tolerate
what happened in my marriage.
Now it’s time to heal.
Now it’s time to celebrate who I’ve become.
I’m a human, and I make mistakes,
but you know what?
As a single mom/yoga teacher/meditator/
writer/artist/speaker/coach/poet/inspirer/
healer/visionary/creatrix/lover of God
I really am getting a lot of this right.

Child Mind

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Watching my mind
to make sure I don’t allow
the anxiety to take over.
And I thought watching kids was hard!
My mind takes more energy
than a newborn infant,
and worries me more than a teenager.
It needs constant nourishment
(at least newborns sometimes nap).
At any moment
it could grab the keys
and drive off with no word
about when it’s coming back home.
I’m wondering at what point
my mind will be mature enough
that I won’t need to call a sitter
when I want to leave it at home
for a few hours
so that I can have a break!

Retreat Day 3: Soul Retrieval

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Today we were asked
to think back to an experience
we lived when we were young,
something that affected us emotionally
and remained in our memories,
something that hurt us,
marked us, something
that was potentially holding us back
even today.
As we imagined ourselves
at that young age
we were also asked
to call our spirit guides in
to help with the healing.
We envisioned our guides
talking with the younger
version of ourselves,
soothing, calming,
protecting, reassuring,
supporting, being present.
I was moved
watching my younger self brighten.
She stopped crying;
she realized she didn’t have to try so hard.
She relaxed; she allowed herself to play.
What if a healing really did
take place today?
If I can suspend my doubts and fears,
maybe, just maybe,
I can feel the little girl in me
playing still, happy to just be alive.

You are a Child of the Universe

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You are a child of the universe,
unique in all the world.
There has never been,
nor will there ever be,
another exactly like you.

You were born
with unique talents and abilities.
Discovering what they are,
and learning
how to best share them with the world
is the reason you are here.
The world is longing to know you,
to receive the special gifts you bring.

So dig deep, child friend.
Open your mind, body,
heart, soul,
and life
to discovering and sharing your precious gifts.

Share them freely with the world,
bring light and love and hope to us.
Show us what is possible
in the realm of human potential.

Share your gifts so freely
that you empty yourself
of any fear, doubt,
or self-imposed limits.

And in the space you have made,
receive the gifts
that the world is longing to give you,
all of the abundance of the universe
placed in homage at your feet.

Remember Your Wonder Child

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But then sometimes
we get so caught up
in the rational, logical, mathematical
world of adults
that life loses its magic.

We get tunnel vision
as we strive for the success
that the outer world pressures us to achieve.

Inside something is languishing.
That something is the child,
innocent, pure, vibrant, creative,
bounding with life,
a zest for new experiences.

The child,
who gets grumpy when she is tired,
or acts out when he is told
he needs to behave a certain way
so that the adults around him
won’t feel so anxious.

That child knows what she needs,
and knows how to make those needs known.
That child can take an ordinary moment
and transform it into something wonderful,
something fresh, surprising, alive.

When life loses its magic, it’s a sign
that we have lost the child.
At times like those,
it would serve us
to allow the child to come out and play.

Maybe, first,
that child needs to know it is safe.
So the adult in you
holds the child for a moment,
rocking it, speaking in soothing tones,

It’s okay, I am here for you.
Your needs are okay with me.
I am so glad you are here,
and I will do everything I can to help you.
You are allowed to explore,
to make mistakes, to fall…
I am here to help you up again,
to encourage you to try again.
I am here to help you understand
your own unique way of learning,
and to support you as you take
steps toward realizing your greatness.

Don’t disregard the child.
Give it space to be who it is,
Love it unconditionally,
and when the fear and anxiety melt away,
when the grieving of the unmet needs has passed,

Then the child can shine in all of its magnificence.
This is a beautiful part of your mind indeed.
This is the closest you will ever come to knowing God.

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I felt a little uneasy after publishing last night’s post, afraid that it might appear that I was brushing aside that which is childlike in us and extolling the virtues of a seasoned adult’s wisdom.  The child mind I was writing about last night is the one who is anxious, afraid, who doesn’t want to try because it is hurting for some reason or another.  Because I didn’t get that nuance across to my satisfaction, I felt a need to respond to my post in defense of that which is wonderful about the inner child.  Words can be so clumsy, and wielding them well enough to bring others close to understanding our inner workings takes great skill.  Although I still feel clumsy about my own word wielding, I hope that a part of you will understand a part of me and perhaps resonate with what is written here.  The wonder child is, after all, a universal archetype–one that we all can relate to–so maybe all of our inner children will come out to play at this invitation, our sparks of creativity will flame together, and we’ll raise the vibration of the whole universe with our enthusiasm.  Blessed be.

An Exploration of My Yucky Mood

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Eh. A yucky mood today.  Maybe it’s because I still haven’t caught up on sleep since the move.  Maybe it’s because I haven’t been engaging in all of the positive adult interaction that a caregiver of children needs to feel sane. Maybe I just miss my tiny meditation room that I had at my old house the last three years…my cocoon room, my womb room.  I would close the door, turn on my little space heater, drop a few drops of beautiful essential oils in the diffuser, open up my journal, and write in peace. And warmth.  Now I’m in the thoroughfare of the house, it’s drafty, I feel displaced, and my inner child is having a tantrum.  What, she says, What happened to my room? Why was my room taken away?  This is not fair!  Why did you move me to a place where I can’t have my own space? Not fair, not fair, not fair! Yep. Inner child. Tantrum.

And then when my actual kids have tantrums, it’s like everyone is joining in, even the cat, joining in this fiesta of temper and reactivity. I need a vacation to a quiet place all by myself. And about ten deep tissue massages to smooth away the knots that have stubbornly refused to leave my body since the move.

There is guilt for complaining. Guilt because in comparison to many, my tale of woe is a joke. I have food, shelter, a family that loves me. There is no threat of bombs keeping me cowering indoors with my children, hoping that we’ll survive another day.  I have a job that I absolutely love.  I have a computer and fingers that type words. I have no right to complain.  And yet…

And yet, these feeling of disappointment, of unrest, of grief are real.  They are as real as my journal holding the words I managed to find to describe them.  Guilt is just another reason to stay stuck in this place of sorrow.  I think I need to let myself feel what I’m feeling, and maybe at some point I can move on.

Taking a breath now.  Hoping to write a poem that will help me make sense of all of this.