Thirty years ago I met my Inner Child.
Riding the subway from Queens to NYC with my eyes shuttered to the unnerving crush of rush hour commuters pressing in upon me, I seemed to effortlessly find her. She was about 6 years old and lived in our old apartment house.
In my mind’s eye, she and I held hands and went through a closet door behind my bed and Narnia-style we emerged into another time and place. The scene was completely different from an urban 6th floor apartment or a rush hour subway commute. It was wooded, serene and soothing. We came upon a log cabin which seemed to be ours and we explored both inside and outside our private safe space. There was much to find and enjoy, but the train ride was nearing my stop and I knew we had to go back ‘home.’
But I was surprised, actually shocked, when she refused to go back! I pleaded, cajoled, and offered many important reasons why she needed to return. I promised that now that I found her I would not let her be lost again in my seemingly endless need to please others. I told her how our sisters and brother, grandfather and parents would miss her. Nothing worked and I was stumped. I finally told her I couldn’t stay – I had to go to work in a few minutes – and that I didn’t want to leave her alone. She said not to worry – she had enough to keep her occupied and she would wait for me whenever I came back. Time was obviously not linear there.
And so, I left her in that warm, cozy home with the fire burning, food on the table, easel and paint, books, swing, cozy bed with beautiful quilt and other other wondrous things for her to craft her days and nights. And I, who in this 3D life have not lived alone for more than a week or two, left her there and got off the subway with a prayer in my heart not to think this was just a daydream to while away the uncomfortable ride, but to remember that somehow, this was Real and not to forget her!