First there was the Supermoon, and then there was the super discovery. After spending just over an hour taking photos of the Supermoon in this blisteringly cold weather, I decided it was time to head home. Just as my body was beginning to thaw and I could feel my feet again, I noticed a journal on my nightstand. Somehow, my journal from 2nd grade had ended up with my husband’s belongings. I became flushed with excitement and serendipitously opened to the page that accompanies this post. My birthday is April 16th so I had just turned 8 at the time I wrote this:
“Writers afternoon was a lot of fun. We got to go to two things. I went to poetry...I wish we could have it every day! You could tell it was a fun day!”
(*** I think I also mentioned in that entry that I got to see an author, but I had the developmentally appropriate focus (and spelling) of an eight year old.)
After reading this entry, I felt validated and vindicated. Last year I made a number of radical changes in an effort to prioritize my love of writing. Twenty-eight years of dust fell away with each turn of the page, and I felt a wonderful sense of homecoming. The journal had become a touchstone. While I was looking at the words my spirited, inner-child wrote, she was unmistakably looking back at me. And then I recalled a story I once heard a number of years ago. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I find there is such value in it that it’s worth sharing. After Michelangelo had sculpted David, a reporter asked him about his difficulties carving with marble. Michelangelo supposedly responded, “David was always there in the marble. I just took away everything that was not David.”
My next post will continue this theme of the inner-child and how keeping our inner-child in mind can help us relate to ourselves with more care and kindness, especially when difficulties arise. Stay tuned!
