Inner Child Healing

“No matter where you are, or what you are doing or who you are with - I will always honestly, truly, completely love you”

I cry every time I let my mind forecast a future that sees my little boy out in the world - independent of me. Right now, where ever he goes I am always a few steps behind. The smile that validates his experience, the refuge that opens up and comforts him immediately when he needs it. 

Last night at a restaurant I watched my boy excitedly initiate friendship with children he didn’t know. He hugged kids like they were old friends, took them by the hand, jumped up and down and shrieked with the excitement that only a three year old can cultivate for no real reason at all. I saw him stand his ground when “big boys” were playing rough - he was unintimidated, self assured & unphased by their vibe. The centre of his own universe. 

He is amazing. 

And yet, as his Mother, I watched him stretching the boundaries of his independence and a part of me ached. 

The truth is - with every passing day I can’t help but be acutely aware that he is a day closer to being out in the world on his own. Without my eyes cast upon him from the corner of the room. 

It brings me to tears but I realise these tears aren’t tears I’m crying about the anticipated future my son will experience. 

They are tears I cry for the child within me. Watching my son gives me deep insight into the innocence and naivety of children. 

The tears I cry are for the little girl in me who had no idea that she would have to endure and experience so much .. my memories of childhood are of feeling obligated, responsible and burdened by the awareness that I felt too much, too deeply & didn’t know how to process any of it. 

Sometimes, I scoop my son up in my arms and soothe him, kissing his head, whispering words of affirmation to him ... and he melts into me, loving the moment. 

I realise how much of my own grown self longs for that. For someone to scoop her up, hold her close, pat her hair, rock her a little and offer a shhh, shhh, shhh as a mantra of sorts to act as an anchor for a mind that drifts endlessly. 

I have felt deep sadness. I know it well. What I actually have to learn to hold and embody within me is the feeling of being loved. I desire this deeply. I want to be love. I want to embody that in this life time so that the way I feel when I offer my whole heart to my son can be amplified and carried as me, for the benefit all beings, transmitted and transmuted through every move I make in this world. 

If I want to offer it up, I first have to receive it. 

I see the ways that I confuse feeling sad with a desire to feel loved. My inability to feel loved plunges me into sadness, maybe as an expression of the desire for love… not truly because I’m sad. 

To be loved. To be love. 

Not in a romantic, relational sense - but as a way of being. An embodiment. An offering. An expression. 

Knowing what we love and letting love in are two very different things. 

I’m here for it.“No matter where you are, or what you are doing or who you are with - I will always honestly, truly, completely love you”

I cry every time I let my mind forecast a future that sees my little boy out in the world - independent of me. Right now, where ever he goes I am always a few steps behind. The smile that validates his experience, the refuge that opens up and comforts him immediately when he needs it. 

Last night at a restaurant I watched my boy excitedly initiate friendship with children he didn’t know. He hugged kids like they were old friends, took them by the hand, jumped up and down and shrieked with the excitement that only a three year old can cultivate for no real reason at all. I saw him stand his ground when “big boys” were playing rough - he was unintimidated, self assured & unphased by their vibe. The centre of his own universe. 

He is amazing. 

And yet, as his Mother, I watched him stretching the boundaries of his independence and a part of me ached. 

The truth is - with every passing day I can’t help but be acutely aware that he is a day closer to being out in the world on his own. Without my eyes cast upon him from the corner of the room. 

It brings me to tears but I realise these tears aren’t tears I’m crying about the anticipated future my son will experience. 

They are tears I cry for the child within me. Watching my son gives me deep insight into the innocence and naivety of children. 

The tears I cry are for the little girl in me who had no idea that she would have to endure and experience so much .. my memories of childhood are of feeling obligated, responsible and burdened by the awareness that I felt too much, too deeply & didn’t know how to process any of it. 

Sometimes, I scoop my son up in my arms and soothe him, kissing his head, whispering words of affirmation to him ... and he melts into me, loving the moment. 

I realise how much of my own grown self longs for that. For someone to scoop her up, hold her close, pat her hair, rock her a little and offer a shhh, shhh, shhh as a mantra of sorts to act as an anchor for a mind that drifts endlessly. 

I have felt deep sadness. I know it well. What I actually have to learn to hold and embody within me is the feeling of being loved. I desire this deeply. I want to be love. I want to embody that in this life time so that the way I feel when I offer my whole heart to my son can be amplified and carried as me, for the benefit all beings, transmitted and transmuted through every move I make in this world. 

If I want to offer it up, I first have to receive it. 

I see the ways that I confuse feeling sad with a desire to feel loved. My inability to feel loved plunges me into sadness, maybe as an expression of the desire for love… not truly because I’m sad. 

To be loved. To be love. 

Not in a romantic, relational sense - but as a way of being. An embodiment. An offering. An expression. 

I’m here for it.