what children know...
are children really the blank slates that we assume?
From the child’s vantage point…and we were all children once…
What did we KNOW? What did we FEEL? How was our knowing shoved aside, dismissed, ignored, contradicted, mocked, even punished in some cases?
Often, it isn’t until we re-awaken our dormant abilities, unused for a long time – stored in the back of our memories and labelled ‘childhood nonsense’, that we remember experiences which occurred naturally in childhood. ‘That’s just your imagination,” they insisted. ‘Imagination’ we were conditioned to suppress.
This is written because it is timely…and in hopes that it will spark recognition and recovering of our Original Self in others. To restore us to our Knowing, to nudge us back onto the path we started out on…
Crib stories…
When I was very small…still in diapers…still in the crib…a Voice spoke these words to me:
“You will not be having children. That is for OTHER people. Your life will be about other things.”
The Voice was gentle, kind, yet authoritative. Not quite male or female…
After that, I was shown a series of mental pictures of what was possible.
I remember seeing foreign lands and having a clear sense of great potential to help on a large scale-IF I could keep my path straight. A global perspective and orientation…with an inclination toward healing…of mind, soul and body.
For someone born into the kind of family and circumstances that I was, it was a huge stretch, not only of imagination, but of luck.
But a seed had been planted and a kind of Knowing resulted. I was blessed with a good intellect and high energy. It was up to me to do the work and to make use of opportunities as I could find them. I KNEW that.
How did I know that? I just did…
I was actually quite happy and excited that my life would be different and that I would be free to do bigger, more important things.
There were plenty of children here already…the beginnings of overpopulation.
The ones that were already here needed better tending, as it was. These things were crystal clear in my mind.
As I grew up, I knew that I would have to find a way to not have children. That would take an extreme effort at that time…in the fifties.
I would have to become a nun or a scholar or both…maybe a missionary. Not many women of the time were exempt from marriage and child-bearing.
I learned early on to keep my feelings and thoughts to myself. To act otherwise was to court all kinds of unpleasantness.
I didn’t play with dolls like the other girls nor did I play house incessantly. That sets you apart pretty quickly.
My nose was stuck in books, quiet, more serious pursuits, not chatty ‘silly’ things. I wasn’t going to play out a fairly mindless script.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Voice came to me a second time…not too long afterward. It instructed me in these words-still vivid…
“The greatest cause of suffering on this plane is the misuse of sexuality…”
followed by a pause. “…and you would be well-advised to steer clear of it.”
Those words came as quite a shock. Though I was so young, I knew enough about life to think that war might be the greatest cause of suffering…or poverty…or sickness and disease. I never would have arrived at this! But it was uttered with such gravity and certainty. It was THE bottom line.
My place within the scheme of things was clearly suggested, as well.
~~~~~~~~~~
Now why would a child be told such things? Who is doing the telling?
It would be several decades before I would be introduced to the idea of spiritual guides and teachers.
One might well ask why a baby would be told such serious things… And yet, I was.
Those words ‘bent’ my life. Those words put me on my path. They rescued me from a lot of pain and distortion. They gave shape and purpose ro my life..
They were deep and clear at the time and they had the desired effect. But, as I grew up, the messages were overrun, eclipsed…and nearly lost.
At times, they were only a dim memory that I myself discounted as I sided with the culture that says children are ignorant…mere blank slates.
I was nearly 40 before I finally recovered them clearly, dusted them thoroughly and began to give conscious heed to them…conscious respect.
By then I had done some living and I could see plainly that whenever I heeded the Words, my life went well.
When I deviated from them for any reason or failed to take them seriously enough, my life became a disaster. In fact, I almost lost my life on more than one occasion.
It is hard to reconcile the inner life with the pressures of the outer world. It is hard to reconcile the two realities.
You learn, sometimes by hard experience, to take Spirit at its Word.
In hindsight, the messages are more true than I could have imagined. The longer I live, the more that truth is evident…
I made mistakes along the way of misinterpreting the messages.
For instance: while the message about not having children was clear enough, I failed for a time to appreciate those for whom child-bearing was a calling.
This is not to say that most are called. Many people just fall into it unthinkingly or because it is expected of them. The lives they secretly and really wanted to have are shoved aside, their gifts and talents buried, opportunities missed.
I assumed, given the world around me, that I should be a nun or a doctor. Both avenues would have been disastrous mistakes. I found myself repeatedly blocked and redirected. I was eventually prepared and led to a finer expression of those potentials…where I would not be under the control of either of those systems.
The message about ‘the misuse of sexuality as the greatest cause of suffering’ was underscored strongly in my life. A core lesson…
Why would I be told such a thing at the outset? In fact, I was going to need that information early on.
My stepfather was a sex-obsessed man…later discovered to be a pedophile,,,my childhood marred by his attempts to act on his impulses. It was hard, but effective learning. In retrospect I see how I was protected throughout by the Unseen…
(Later in life, I was shown the underlying subconscious events in his own childhood that led to his behavior)
Like most of us, I ran the gauntlet of high school/college sexuality disguised as love. A pretty mixed-up culture…already debased and malfunctioning.
Core lessons are rugged affairs. Lessons begin early. They seem unrelenting at times.
I extricated myself at 17, got an apartment, put my life in order and prepared for med school with an eye toward psychiatry…when there was a 3 am knock on my door.
My best friend, who had disappeared just weeks before graduation, had a young man in tow. “Debbie, can you help him? He od’d and I’ve taken him to all 3 emergency rooms in town and they refused to take him (1969). Please!!” Then she was gone. (she had gotten mixed up with drugs).
Not having much choice in the matter, I took him in, nursed him through a 72-hour comedown from amphetamines (thinking that my on-the-job- training had started. This was all new…the 1st time that drugs had been brought into our town).
When he finally came to himself, he declared I was his angel sent from God (he was a preachers kid). At that point he would not leave, he latched on with the threat of suicide, went on to drain my bank account on the eve of my escape/departure for college and before long, he and his parents forced a marriage. He had his own set of perversions…but fortunately, the marriage was never consummated. Huge protection under the circumstances that were unfolding.
He was a study in contrasts…a musical savant, a Mensa member, troubled from the age of four years old, in the care of psychiatrists, who he typically outwitted. He was also one of the first Ritalin kids, which set him up for methamphetamine addiction as an adult. He spiralled into paranoia, suicidal and then homicidal rages. He was considered manic-depressive, but there was more to it than the medical profession could quantify.
There was a frightening spiritual component, as well. There were many times that his blue eyes would suddenly turn gleaming black and an unearthly entity would take over. It had an overwhelming strength and cunning. His energy field changed and he could scramble everyone and every thing in his vicinity. (much like UFO descriptions)
I relate this because there are others trapped in these circumstances, unable to understand with the meager resources they have…unable to convey their desperate need for help… We lack the framework for dealing on this level.
So those were some of the early lessons…
Going back to childhood…and this may be familiar to some of you…
What Children Know... Remembering...
To give another example of what kids know, I’ll share some of my own story…Sometimes it helps to jumpstart one’s own remembering to learn how another person got there.
Some of these realizations are universal in scope. After all, we have a lot in common. They ‘fit’.
Some of you will relate…others will not. We all have our differing levels and experiences…
From a child’s perspective...
First sensations… First memories…
‘Too loud! Too bright! Too harsh! I jump uncomfortably at everything.
I don’t like this place. What is the matter with these people?!
Why is everyone so mean to each other?’
(I feel everyone’s emotions-much of it negative)
’I am getting filled up with all these bad feelings…waves that I can’t stop or block.
I have to empty myself of everyone’s bad feelings…I can’t handle all of this…
It is making me sick and nervous. I cry.
I am afraid of these bad people…
They are stabbing each other with their eyes, punching with their smiles!
I feel like I am in an insane asylum.‘
(Now how did I think in such clear terms? But I remember thinking that quite clearly as an infant. I am not the only one…)
’They do ugly things to their bodies (like smoking).
They make ugly sounds and they like it! (fighting-swearing)
They want me to be like them, but I will not!!!
They try to break me down to their level, but I will never go there.
I must fight.’
I am soon so miserable, surrounded on all sides, that I can only dimly recall that this is not all there is, but ‘I fight for the goodness inside me.
I must protect it, keep it alive, don’t let anyone see it or they will try to destroy it.
They take pleasure in destroying the good. I don’t understand. I don’t understand… I cry.’
”Desecration” is the word I use now as an adult.
What is it in people that seeks to destroy innocence?
To slap a child that smiles or experiences too much happiness.
To give alcohol to a baby or an animal… To inflict pain…
To harm their bodies in so many ways?
To ruin and mar a clean slate…
There is something evil at work in bringing a child down-in desecrating something pure.
In Bali, a child’s feet never touch the ground for the 1st year of their lives, because it is understood that a soul freshly arrived from heaven will need time and gentle handling to touch this earth.
It is not easy to tackle this existence…especially if you are born more sensitive than some…
They are lowered slowly and gently into this world, surrounded by prayerful protectors…as they should be.
I remember vowing with all my strength that I would NEVER go down.
Even if they succeeded in breaking me or making me do bad things like lying or beating another child
I would not go all the way down.
I would resist, I would pretend…but not very much.
I would not debase myself or let myself be debased by them. I would somehow stay clean.
I did not want their ugly, unhappy lives with all the fighting and broken-down existence.
I did not like the lives they made. I wanted no part of them.
Don’t go DOWN, I told myself over and over…don’t go down!
Still when I look at people today with their mean lives, disheartened situations,
their distorted bodies, half-destroyed minds and deadened spirits, I still see the broken-down children who were not born that way.
They were not helped into life. They were desecrated and beaten down until no memory remained.
Their dead eyes say so much…
They think this is who they ARE.
It is never true. But the evidence seems overwhelming.
I think of the Kirlian photography example of a living leaf surrounding by a strong, clear white radiance.
When the leaf is plucked from the stem, it’s radiance diminishes somewhat. There is a little loss of life, but it is still there.
Then that leaf is torn nearly in half. A chunk of it is missing. The torn leaf is photographed once more.
The shocking thing to all who see it is that the original aura of light that surrounds the leaf remains whole and perfect!
I think that is true of us, as well.
Life has torn some pieces, an injury occurs, sexual or other abuse is enacted, divorce and death and heartbreak take their toll, but the Original Spirit..the Life Force remains whole and alive.
What is done TO us does not destroy or even much diminish us.
If we hold that picture in mind, we are still viable.
As Marcus Aurelius said…”Reject your sense of injury and the injury itself disappears.”
****
As a young and precocious child, I practically began speaking in sentences. Given my interior world, that was altogether natural.
I thought in sentences from the start. I thought in direct concise concepts.
Words came later, as needed, to impress something on my waking mind.
As a baby, I remember having very strong, clear thoughts and opinions about the world I had just entered.
I remember thinking that I had landed in an asylum of sorts...a world-wide asylum with few places of sanctuary.
I felt assaulted by the harsh noises around me. The unbridled insensitivity of most people, the crudeness of life and the loutish behavior of people was a constant source of shock and dismay.
I felt a great desire to flee or at least to hide. I spent a lot of time hiding, in fact…and a lot of time planning my escape.
My mother seemed to sense my sensitive nature and she was my early refuge.
She took me aside often to reassure me and she tried to protect and nurture, even champion me. She knew what was needed... that is, until she was overcome herself.
My dad, on the other hand, decided that I was too sensitive and that I needed to be broken of that sensitivity. He turned it into a family crusade. I was oversensitive…too pure…too fussy. I was crazy according to him.
Something was wrong with ME for not liking his touch (read molestation), his breath reeking of alcohol and cigarettes, his beatings-doled out daily, our inability to have ‘fun’ with him in the following moment after his temper was spent.
Why was my dad so bent on destroying my sensitivity?
Well…that sensitivity was getting in his way. I felt him. He was easy to read...
We children see without meaning to. We assess as we should.
A child’s purity naturally enrages someone who doesn’t want to be seen.
I always knew when dad was sneaking around with other women, or when he was picking a fight with mom so she wouldn’t catch on to him…or when his guilt was too much…or when he wanted a reason to leave the house for a few hours to meet yet another woman.
Innocence speaks loudly, apparently…
How was I to know?
****
I was generally spared the banality of baby talk. Only the occasional relative or neighbor would coo over me in that strange way that they have. I always found it to be ridiculous and demeaning, something to be endured.
I hated their touch, their smells, their rough handling, their horrible manners.
Why did they think they had the right to do that to me?!
I couldn’t wait to get them out of my face!
To this day I still rankle at this ill-conceived practice.
Children should never be forced into the clutches of anyone they are uncomfortable with-for any reason.
A parent should protect those boundaries until a person can confidently do it for themselves.
Instead, our families encourage the breaking down of our boundaries.
Untold damage often results.
It is thought that 80% of us have been molested…huge numbers. It has been driven underground…quietly normalized.
This is where it starts...
What Children Know... Digging for Truth
I think that one of the most important things we can do in this life is to recover our Knowing… our Original, Authentic Self.
And here I want to say “Blessed are the Stubborn!”
You know, some children are hard to break! They are strong-minded, willful, defiant!
And that is a good thing! They have a chance of holding onto their truth, their essence.
It is much harder for the child who is softer, more fearful, more compliant.
For them, it is a longer journey back to Self.
How does one go about recovering one’s Self?
What happens if all we can unearth of our original selves are fragments that we are unsure of?
Actually, that is almost always the case... Still, it is a legitimate Beginning.
“Beginning” is a holy enterprise in itself.
Like an archaeological dig, sometimes we find a whole vase or a weapon or a piece of jewelry, but many times what we find is broken, seemingly useless amidst messy layers.
But the ruins call to us of earlier, finer and more illustrious times in our Souls.
Once you begin to find those fragments, a certain excitement builds, a thirst for knowing who and what we were before we became diminished…before we became cogs in society’s various machineries.
The Soul is eager to be recognized even if it’s 50 or 60 years later.
While there is life and energy, there is possibility...
At some point a key is unearthed…something that says ‘Aha!’ THIS is the real me!
I remember... It may be faint, but it is still there...
Then the chase is on! You want to recover more! And more!
You start to see yourself...experience yourself…your True Self.
The very foundation of your life emerges and a real life can finally be built.
We are sometimes like a city that has been conquered, destroyed and built upon by successions of marauding armies.
Along the way, family, religion, culture, marriages, jobs have all imposed their rule
and sought to destroy what does not serve their purposes.
We may have to dig through the rubble and confusion to find who and what we are.
When the pressure of having lost touch with our Essence is too much, one might dismantle or blow up their current situation and a mid-life crisis or breakdown results.
If the work is not done-either through disbelief or avoidance, depression is the likely result.
How does a parent, teacher, partner, or friend learn to not harm the Self in another…
to recognize and honor the true Self and not drive it into further hiding?
***
Recovering our Knowing...
As a bodyworker of 20 years, I am more and more dismayed that while we are so-called highly educated in the west, we know virtually nothing of value about our own bodies.
All of our education points to things outside the body. Math, English, history, science and the like…
But what do we know of our bodies? When we have problems, we hand them off helplessly to doctors and the medical establishment who go on to encourage that ignorance.
I’ve worked on enough doctors to realize that they don’t know much abou the basic workings of their bodies either. They are as hopelessly cut off and at war with their bodies as they are with ours.
Instead of learning the language of the body with its treasure house of sensing and obtaining information, we are taught to ignore, override, and belittle the incoming information.
All real learning has to originate with our Selves…the body-mind that carries the expression of Soul and Spirit.
This is the foundation, the vehicle for our journey of life. Outside knowledge comes later.
We are systematically directed outward and AWAY from our Selves at all times.
After enough damage is done and suffering is experienced, we are finally admonished by the overculture to ‘seek within’, but even that is as artificial, confusing and useful as the rest of the programmed ‘knowledge’ we are fed.
In the end, it may be more useful to set ALL of that aside for the time being and see what we can recover of ourselves.
Start with the simple idea of not being a blank slate.
We KNOW things…LOTS of things, as we come into life.
We know what we like, what we don’t like...We know who we like or don’t like.
That innate knowing should not be over-ridden. It is vital information. It is the child’s Truth.
A baby who rejects the nipple or bottle of milk knows something…senses something. They convey that directly with their actions.
Perhaps the nursing mother is angry or fearful or is taking a medication that is harmful to the baby.
Perhaps the child is lactose intolerant or chemically sensitive. We should observe and learn from these actions rather than overriding and forcing the child to do what we want.
If a child does not want to be held or passed around to everyone that wants to handle the child, the child’s wishes must be taken seriously.
The child knows what is good for it. That knowing should not be dismissed or violated.
A child wants to make music or climb trees or bang on things or take things apart…
all rightful expressions of what is inside.
As an acorn becomes an oak tree quite naturally, a child becomes what they are meant to become...
and they may be many things.
Our pigeon-holing culture would have us relegate them to a preferred role...a mommy, a firefighter, a scholar, or a soldier, etc.
In reality, it might be better described as part mommy, part artisan, part farmer, etc. Many aspects or facets come into play as a life unfolds. Just as some gemstones are more complex than others. while some have fewer facets..
These are just differing expressions of Life.
Maybe, as children, we didn’t like our family, or town, or the manner in which we were raised.
These are things to note…they matter. We do not have to downplay or sugarcoat our truth.
We diminish ourselves when we do...
Perhaps a parent wants a son to become a doctor. The boy wants to work with his hands and travel the world Whose desires survive? At what cost?
Perhaps daddy or mommy wanted a boy instead of a girl. A daughter grows up trying to please that parent and then society goes on to blame HER for being “gay”.
The girl wants to be whatever it is she decides to be… It will come to her in time if she is not meddled with too much.
A child should have the best influence, support and example from its parents, but beyond that, there are lines that should not be crossed. Raising children calls for guidance in helping them become the person that lies within.
It is a voyage of discovery rather than a call for programming.
I side with the venerable Kahlil Gibran when he says:
“Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.”
We, as children, endured so much wringing and twisting up of our Selves that we often throw in the towel and live a life of someone else’s choosing.
And then, much of the time, go on to enact that same damage to succeeding generations. We wind up supporting the agendas of our captors as well as the over-culture.
Like tender blades of grass finding a way up to the sunlight through concrete, the Truth within us will try to find a way out and up or it will wither and die and pass out of this life unmanifested.
There is a wonderful example of a toddler who, at the age of 3, asked his parents for a violin for his birthday… a real one, he insisted, quite precociously.
The family had little money or concern for music.
They were sure that a toy violin would be more than adequate. When the boy unwrapped the gift, he flew into a terrifying rage, smashed the toy violin to bits and screamed at his parents for trying to fool him with a fake violin.
He insisted on the real thing...at once! He went on to become a world-famous violinist.
It was his destiny….and he knew it from the start. It was imprinted in his soul.
I knew a man who, as a boy, had an astonishing talent for the piano.
He was a savant, someone who could listen to a Rachmaninoff concerto one time and sit down and play it flawlessly.
He never learned to read music. In fact, he flatly refused lessons. It would have been torture to force lessons on him.
He already exceeded anyone who might teach him. All he needed was to be supported in his giftedness.
Another curious description of a young child’s inner life comes from a woman in Atlanta, Georgia.
I knew her as a metaphysical teacher. To some, she was a psychic, to others an accomplished painter.
She once shared with me the experience of her first years of life. This was in the context of not being too quick to judge so-called autistic children, for she was one of the early ones.
She remembered clearly her birth into her body in this life.
Once she realized that she had once again been sent to earth-a place she detested more than anything-she was furious beyond words…and beyond words she remained for the first 6 years of her life.
She felt as though she was being punished, insulted, imprisoned down here once again against her will. She hated almost everything about earthly life from prior remembered experience.
Strong-willed as she was. she took up her battle with what she called ‘the Home Office’… or God, if you will.
The battle was furious, determined and protracted. As she put it, “I had a six year long hissy fit with the Almighty and firmly refused to serve humans” (that’s what she knew she was assigned to do here once more). She raged within the whole time, refusing food, water and all forms of contact and engagement. She wanted OUT!
In the end, she realized she was not going to win this argument.
Once reconciled to that fact, she turned around to face her life and began speaking in full sentences! She began to interact with the world, much to the amazement of her parents and the ‘experts’ who had been brought in on her case.
She brought herself around to serve with reluctance and difficulty, but she made it.
As she described it, she went through the motions of what was expected of her as a child and young woman, pretty much in a huge sulk the whole time. She knew what she was capable of, but she kept it to herself. She resolved to live a selfish life as much as possible. She married and entered the workplace, bent on avoiding her calling. But a series of strange events dogged her efforts to have things her way.
She would take a job somewhere and within a few months of her arrival, the business would fail.
At first it seemed coincidental, but several failed businesses later, she knew the score.
This would keep happening and more and more people would suffer until she finally surrendered to her calling…her reason to be here…the work she was destined to do.
When I first learned of her, I was very leery of psychics, but I began to realize how many people she had helped…in particular, how many suicidal people she had helped through life.
She provided a kind of help and insight that was wonderfully beyond what pastors, counselors and psychiatrists could offer. There was no denying the power and the scope of her gifts.
She was teacher, mentor, spiritual mother and guide beyond compare. She was no-nonsense, at times, blunt and true...
She took me aside after class one day and counseled me along these lines, saying “Debra, as you are experiencing all of these new things, all this new growth…do not let go of your foundation in Christ. This is an extension of your walk with God. It is not apart or separate from it. It is the fulfillment of His Being. Hold onto your good foundation. But! Do not be limited in your beliefs! Not by the church and not by yourself!”
She paused a bit and then went on to explain. “You know, sadly, most Christians still do not know Christ. When they say they believe in Jesus, they may as well be saying they believe in Santa Claus.
They use His Name in the same way.
He is just there to provide presents to them. He is just someone they want to use. There is no reality…no real following…just make-believe.
She was characterized by that kind of razor-sharp expression and loyalty to the Truth.
She was right, of course...a little hard-hitting, but Truth can be like that.
That kind of Truth can save a life...or salvage it.
~~~~~~~~~~~
A lot can be learned from those that are still true and truthful…no matter what size they are.
A wise Turkish teacher asked me once: “What is the single most important thing in life?”
I thought for a bit and then answered “Love.”
He fell silent. I felt like I had missed the mark… I couldn’t come up with anything better. Finally I asked him what his answer was. Without hesitation, he said “Truth.”
I was taken aback… His answer was stark and uncompromising.
Our culture claims to value love above all else…but the more I thought about it, the more important and accurate his answer seemed. That single word began to re-orient my thinking…
Truth is the foundation for everything. Where truth and love are concerned, without truth we have nothing…no possibility of real love.
Children are still true… Therefore we have much to learn from them...some things to teach (like the practicalities of life and culture), but much to learn.
In fact, in some cultures, parents see children as full-fledged souls who carry insight for those who are willing to learn.
A Taoist teacher shared the following observations with me…”Each child that is born into a family reflects the state of the parent’s relationship at the time of their conception.”
Ever wonder why some children within a family are so similar, while others are so different?
Furthermore, they see that child’s soul as being a somewhat older soul than the parents…slightly wiser and more evolved. They come in to teach…as well as to learn.
If you stop to think about it…who doesn’t remember thinking,…even knowing, that they were wiser than their parents in many respects?!
The question becomes “How did we know these things?” Perhaps the ancients were right...
Perhaps we are experienced souls continuing an everlasting journey.
Some traditional societies regard their children as being recently arrived from life between lives.
They have not forgotten the higher realms altogether as people are prone to do after some time.
Imagine what it would be like if parents were willing to hear and to learn from their children. What if we are missing the better half of the equation by turning a blind eye to what they have to teach us?
It’s much easier to imagine that a child knows nothing and that their opinions do not matter.
Society convinces us that it is so. It becomes much easier to lord it over them and to behave callously toward them. “I am the parent! You are the child! You’ll do as I say…or else!
Or even to go so far as to say “Do as I say...not as I do!” The crazy-making contradiction.
Now obviously, children need some assistance in the physical realm of things as they mature to the point where they can take things up on their own.
But, internally, they are far more experienced and equipped than we give them credit for.
Admittedly, this can be a little confusing on the surface…
The problem for the child is that they DO know many things. Who they are, in part, what they want or don’t want.
But after living in a society that constantly tells them that they know nothing…
that they are blank slates…they begin to falter.
They begin to lose touch with their original knowing and eventually concede defeat.
Finally they go on to believe that about themselves. They acquire the falsehood.
The light inside begins to dim.
They slowly succumb to the ‘Authorities’ ie: the ‘Big People’…those that hold power and that punish when they don’t have their way. Eventually the child’s knowing is eclipsed. Their own light is disregarded and they begin to doubt and forget and set aside all the brilliance, the heart and the sense of purpose they came in with.
The knowing never goes away, but it lies buried like an ancient city under the gritty and relentless sands of time and culture.
Like the children in Bali whose feet don’t touch the ground for the first year of life, I delayed my descent as much and as long as possible…
Though I stumbled along the way and fell short of some of those potentials, I did not wholly relinquish my Self. We feel like we miss the boat or falter sometimes…and we do…but Life always finds new expression.
My endeavor is to see and to say and share what I see and the connections along the way…to bring up what was half-forgotten and revive and encourage…
As always, thanks for reading. Please feel free to like, comment, share, restack and subscribe (free).
a companion story….
Things that go Bump in the Bed...Debra Robinson·Mar 15Read full story
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