Dear reader: Recently I’ve been doing work with my inner child and this piece emerged during a reflective time. As a bit of orientation there are three aspects present in this story: my inner child, I myself and my Soul. I’ve done my best to clarify who is speaking or experiencing since my inner child, myself and my Soul are really all the same ‘person.’ Hope you enjoy.
My inner child sits terrified, looking out at the world. Either unwilling or unable to engage. Wide scared eyes. Curled in with arms around knees. She sees all. And it scares her.
She sees the cruelty of one to another. Of one to oneself.
She sees the world as one that will slap you down. It will take you and squeeze the beauty and grace and goodness from you and leave you a grey, dried-out hull, aged and dessicated like a husk.
To uncurl and move among others is to do so as a phantom, a whisp of mist drifting and floating among solid dark chunks of malice.
She has seen light and color somewhere before. But every time she has sought her way to the light, the hard, brutal boulders of malice disorient her, or shift and re-arrange so that there never is a path to light. It is a never-ending path of dark: always shifting and ongoing.
And so there isn’t even wistful desire anymore. Only resigned abandon.
She isn’t really afraid to go into the dark. She’ll do it, and has many times. She has been pushed and squashed and tormented – and for what? For the experience of uncurling and moving.
She doesn’t even know why she has gone out before. She has no memory of what else there might be. The light is only some other place that does not have solid blocks of malice, but it does not hold a firm experience of anything. It simply looks more appealing and there is only a small glimmer of a sense that it might truly be appealing.
And so she sits, curled with eyes wide and face a ghostly mask as a witness to the horror.
She doesn’t get up anymore.
“Would she like to?”
Not really. She has settled into a space of safety, where there appears to be light and open around her and the malice is held away. Her space is small and contained around her but at least the malice is away – even if that is all she ever sees when she looks out.
Inner Child Speaking:
I do not believe there is Light for me, even if I get there.
When or if I move through the malice, I emerge in the light but it does not shine for me. It is dull and empty; faded to a colorless grey illusion.
And so being curled into a ball is preferable to emerging into the light and receiving the emptiness. The disappointment and sorrow are so great as to shatter my heart.
My Soul shows I-Myself-My-Inner-Child:
I have been enfolded, engulfed, consumed by the darkness, the hatred, the malice and emerged into ‘the light’ – the shallow light without shine. I was convinced it was THE Light. But it was an illusion of the dark that I accepted and believed. And so I stopped looking for and believing in the pure Light. I forgot there could be more and fell into despair. And that is where I sit now.
“I don’t know how to come out. I don’t know my way.”
And so I see you, My-Soul, jump in the hole with me “because I know the way out.”
My Soul says:
“Take my hand and follow me. When you have followed me into the pit of despair, I will show you the way to Light. “