Helen Claire, a talkative little girl with a blonde ponytail and two missing front teeth, has just told me that it's time for me to stop tap tap tapping away on my computer or phone, thinking that I'll find all the answers there. Instead, she says, I should give Freddie a cuddle, then sit down on the floor with my colored paper and scissors and glue and start making something. The questions will arrive as soon as I start moving my hands, and the answers will follow.
Coming in late with my reply this time, as I’ve been celebrating my 11 (!)-year-old’s bday all day today! 🥲
I tried a “meet your inner child” guided meditation a couple years ago, where the narrator leads you through an imaginative process of meeting your inner child in a walled garden to ask what’s on their mind and what they want and need so that you can use this insight to understand who you are in the present day. The idea is that the wisdom of your inner child can help cut through the ambivalence and ambiguity of adult life to connect you with what is essentially you and essential to you.
At the culmination of this whole long mediation -- that I had thought might lead to my inner child pouring out tons of useful advice for me since I was a big talker as a child -- my inner child had only one word for me: “Adventure.”That was it. Make sure that life feels like an adventure.
This message has been so clarifying ever since, helping me let go of many things that I had felt like I “should” care about. The world is full of success metrics. But the one that will actually help me do the work that I’m here to do (and feel like it’s even worth it to try) is the question of whether it feels like an adventure. Am I taking risks? Learning new things? Feeling invested in the process as it unfolds? Outmaneuvering mortal peril every now and then? And am I narrating to myself a fascinating life story as I go along, regardless of whether anyone else ever hears it? These are the things that matter.
I still love this advice from my wise inner child. Thanks, little Margy :)
Thank you so much for this prompt, Margy. When I asked my Younger You - the one with fingers sticky with coloured pens and glue - if she had anything to say to me, she smiled and said: 'You only need to trust yourself.' 💜📝
Wow what a great question. So many things come to mind but the most prominent is that I hated wearing dresses. They seemed so impractical and inconvenient and they made it difficult literally just to walk down the stairs without a lot of attention to where things were and how I looked. Perhaps that younger me would suggest that in my work and writing, I continue being myself, even if it doesn't look pretty or polished.
And I'm just the opposite, Michelle -- younger me reminds me that I've always liked to dress up in colorful outfits, and that it's okay to look and act like myself, not the stereotypical "serious" academic I once thought I was supposed to be.
WOW! What an incredible prompt! This one actually made me cry. I was born in Transylvania and spent my childhood in a Romanian orphanage, a world engulfed in communist terror. It's taken years of therapy to shed the fear embedded in my childhood bones. I'm the oldest of five siblings; I was pretty much the adult and decision maker. We were starving, and the traditional ideas of play did not exist for us; we lived in terror, abuse, and survival mode.
I was adopted in 1991, at the age of eleven, by an American couple, and I was forced to leave my siblings behind. I moved from my very traumatic orphanage to glorious Vienna with my new wealthy parents. I couldn't even fathom the world I was relocated to. My parents and I communicated by looking up words in dictionaries. I was desperate to please and wanted them to adopt my siblings. I was also scared they will send me back to the orphanage if I didn't learn the language, so I threw myself into learning English. In college, at 17, I fell apart from living in the institutional dorm setting and left in my first spring semester. My parents were devastated that I left an Ivy League school, so I ran away and married. In my early twenties, when my daughters were toddlers, someone told me I needed to be gentler with them, I had no idea what they meant, so I devoured books about play therapy and parenting through play.
As I sat with this prompt today, I realize that scared little Edith is embedded in me, she is still ever present, especially in new terrains. I'm back in an Ivy League school in the first semester of my PhD with an incredibly generous doctoral fellowship. I'm terrified of writing, which is laughable because I'm a writing specialist. I've had tremendous success with students for fifteen years in the classroom, and my two daughters are incredible writers pursuing English degrees.
With the semester a few short weeks away, I'm struggling with the momentum to keep writing because I'm hiding in the readings. This prompt is the enlightenment I desperately needed. Thank you 🙏
What a story - thank you so much for sharing, Edith! 🙏 I am so glad to hear that the prompt has helped you reconnect with your brave child self, and that you’re finding ways to bring her wisdom into your writing in the present day. 💗
Helen Claire, a talkative little girl with a blonde ponytail and two missing front teeth, has just told me that it's time for me to stop tap tap tapping away on my computer or phone, thinking that I'll find all the answers there. Instead, she says, I should give Freddie a cuddle, then sit down on the floor with my colored paper and scissors and glue and start making something. The questions will arrive as soon as I start moving my hands, and the answers will follow.
Happy birthday to Abe!
Oh this is so precious! Love it. Give Freddie a pat for me! 🐾 And thank you for the bday wishes 🧁!
Coming in late with my reply this time, as I’ve been celebrating my 11 (!)-year-old’s bday all day today! 🥲
I tried a “meet your inner child” guided meditation a couple years ago, where the narrator leads you through an imaginative process of meeting your inner child in a walled garden to ask what’s on their mind and what they want and need so that you can use this insight to understand who you are in the present day. The idea is that the wisdom of your inner child can help cut through the ambivalence and ambiguity of adult life to connect you with what is essentially you and essential to you.
At the culmination of this whole long mediation -- that I had thought might lead to my inner child pouring out tons of useful advice for me since I was a big talker as a child -- my inner child had only one word for me: “Adventure.”That was it. Make sure that life feels like an adventure.
This message has been so clarifying ever since, helping me let go of many things that I had felt like I “should” care about. The world is full of success metrics. But the one that will actually help me do the work that I’m here to do (and feel like it’s even worth it to try) is the question of whether it feels like an adventure. Am I taking risks? Learning new things? Feeling invested in the process as it unfolds? Outmaneuvering mortal peril every now and then? And am I narrating to myself a fascinating life story as I go along, regardless of whether anyone else ever hears it? These are the things that matter.
I still love this advice from my wise inner child. Thanks, little Margy :)
Only seeing this now, Margy - love it...
A very happy birthday, Abraham! 🎂🎈
Thank you so much for this prompt, Margy. When I asked my Younger You - the one with fingers sticky with coloured pens and glue - if she had anything to say to me, she smiled and said: 'You only need to trust yourself.' 💜📝
Aww, very wise little one you have there! I Thank you so much for the birthday wishes 🧁
Wow what a great question. So many things come to mind but the most prominent is that I hated wearing dresses. They seemed so impractical and inconvenient and they made it difficult literally just to walk down the stairs without a lot of attention to where things were and how I looked. Perhaps that younger me would suggest that in my work and writing, I continue being myself, even if it doesn't look pretty or polished.
And I'm just the opposite, Michelle -- younger me reminds me that I've always liked to dress up in colorful outfits, and that it's okay to look and act like myself, not the stereotypical "serious" academic I once thought I was supposed to be.
that's so funny Helen--we're both still our younger selves in a way!
And you’re an inspiration to so many others to be their colorful selves too! 🎨
Oh this totally sounds like current you! The spirit of Child Michelle is alive and well at InkWell 😊💝!!
Back later for fuller thoughts but happy birthday Abe! Happy birthing day, Margy!
Aww, thank you Kimberly! Would love to hear how the prompt worked for you :):)
WOW! What an incredible prompt! This one actually made me cry. I was born in Transylvania and spent my childhood in a Romanian orphanage, a world engulfed in communist terror. It's taken years of therapy to shed the fear embedded in my childhood bones. I'm the oldest of five siblings; I was pretty much the adult and decision maker. We were starving, and the traditional ideas of play did not exist for us; we lived in terror, abuse, and survival mode.
I was adopted in 1991, at the age of eleven, by an American couple, and I was forced to leave my siblings behind. I moved from my very traumatic orphanage to glorious Vienna with my new wealthy parents. I couldn't even fathom the world I was relocated to. My parents and I communicated by looking up words in dictionaries. I was desperate to please and wanted them to adopt my siblings. I was also scared they will send me back to the orphanage if I didn't learn the language, so I threw myself into learning English. In college, at 17, I fell apart from living in the institutional dorm setting and left in my first spring semester. My parents were devastated that I left an Ivy League school, so I ran away and married. In my early twenties, when my daughters were toddlers, someone told me I needed to be gentler with them, I had no idea what they meant, so I devoured books about play therapy and parenting through play.
As I sat with this prompt today, I realize that scared little Edith is embedded in me, she is still ever present, especially in new terrains. I'm back in an Ivy League school in the first semester of my PhD with an incredibly generous doctoral fellowship. I'm terrified of writing, which is laughable because I'm a writing specialist. I've had tremendous success with students for fifteen years in the classroom, and my two daughters are incredible writers pursuing English degrees.
With the semester a few short weeks away, I'm struggling with the momentum to keep writing because I'm hiding in the readings. This prompt is the enlightenment I desperately needed. Thank you 🙏
What a story - thank you so much for sharing, Edith! 🙏 I am so glad to hear that the prompt has helped you reconnect with your brave child self, and that you’re finding ways to bring her wisdom into your writing in the present day. 💗
This prompt was very powerful for me, thank you for inviting the reflection, Margy.
💗💕