My Little Brown-eyed Girl
Because my body has been hurting in various place for such a long time, I've been reading a lot of self-help websites on both physical and mental health. From what to feed my body, mind and spirit, to how to think about and accept my body, mind and spirit, to how to exercise my body, mind and spirit.
Tuning in to know when your body, mind and spirit are hungry, sad, tired, lonely, thirsty etc etc., is a really good and necessary thing - like recognizing when to remove your hand from that hot burner on the stove - and when I apply the suggestions and advice that resonate with me, it's helpful and I'm even successful in accomplishing a goal here and there, especially when I stick to the advice and stay consistent in applying the suggestions.
But sometimes there's a deeper thing going on inside my soul. A rumbling and tumbling of something trying to be seen and heard and felt. Or fed. A craving for deep knowledge that I sense but haven't known. Ancient wisdom. Ancient memories clambering to be remembered.
Most of the time I ignore those noises, tune them out because when I take the time to look inside myself to see what's going on, I see, not a "thing", but a person. A little girl longing to be fed with love and attention; acceptance and approval. She looks up at me with big, sad, brown eyes and she breaks my heart. So I don't look. I just feed her with food to dull her senses and lull her to sleep.
The thing is, she always wakes back up. And she's always hungry.
I'm not sure why I don't just give her what she truly needs, what will truly nourish her. I want to. I want her to be healthy, happy and alive. I want her to finally grow up to be big and strong, lead a fulfilling life and be who she was created to be. So what's stopping me?
This is terrible to feel and say, but it's easier to let her languish hidden away and allow the distractions and pushes and pulls of everyday life to drown out her plea. It's a sacrifice on my part to pull up the patience required to listen and pay attention to her needs, take the time to cook and feed her healthy food, call her forth, invite her out to play, teach her how to be a woman, explain to her the ways of life.
It can be a tough world out here. Is she strong enough to survive? I'm afraid for her. Afraid she'll be criticized, scrutinized and found lacking; put down, beaten up, poked in the nose. Would she be able to stand up for herself? Defend herself?
Honestly, it frightens me, even though I know she has what it takes to do this. She already has everything within her necessary to live and thrive. And it's apparent by the racket she's making down there that she wants to come out and give it a go.
So perhaps it's me who needs to swallow hard, buck up and have a little faith. I gotta let go sometime. Every parent does. I can't protect her forever. She has to endure the skirmishes of life and push against the hard things and test herself in order to become strong and beautiful and knowledgeable about herself and the world. She has to learn to have faith herself and grow in wisdom, and experience the good things in this world and know the satisfaction of coming full circle by offering to others what she's learned.
I know there's only one love greater than the love I can give to that little brown-eyed girl, and that's the love given by The Creator who fashioned and formed her. So, to Him I must look, who is above, inside and all around her. In Him is where I will find the courageous love I need to call her forth. He is the Ancient Wisdom and the Holder of Ancient Memories from Whom I must draw. He has the instructions I need to quiet her rumblings and tumblings.
So when she comes out I must point her to Him, put her in His capable hands and have the faith that He will take care to lead and guide and protect her. And I do know He will.
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