I feel stirred. I need to write. No idea about what.
As I type, I spy the corner of an index card, under my keyboard, with some writing on it. So I pull it out, and I see the whole message (written some time in the past):
“I am love. I now choose to love and approve of myself.
I see others with love.”
An affirmation! An affirmation has jumped out to answer my question (about what to write).
What does this make me think of?
I am becoming more and more aware of an aspect of myself that I never quite noticed “out loud” before. This part of me quietly resists moving forward in the world. In my mind’s eye, I see her as a little girl, madly paddling against the pull of the rapids. She wants to protect me – restrain me – keep me from the precipice of the waterfall. She’s panicked, and she doesn’t believe God will catch me this time.
I imagine that this part of me developed when I was very young. It responded to the onslaught of limitations that are inevitably portioned to a newly incarnated soul (“No! Stop! No!” SMACK!) by learning perhaps the wrong lesson: DON’T do what you want; DON’T express what’s inside you – DON’T get into trouble.
And I have gotten into trouble that way, because of an undeniable (narcissistic?) urge to express myself – to be understood by others. And I have driven my inner little-girl to distraction. We’re equally strong willed, she and I. It’s a battle.
There were so many times when she won the battle. And even when she didn’t, I could always feel her pulling at my body energetically, trying, trying, trying to rein me in, to mitigate. I experienced her as self-doubt. I interpreted it as the pricking of my conscious (“Stop being so loud – stop taking up so much space!”) I listened to her. I toned it down. I learned to express some reasonable portion of myself and to suppress what didn’t seem acceptable. Sometimes. Whew.
This little protector and I, we make each other tired.
I have a mental image of her now, sweating and panting – wet tendrils of hair sticking to her face – working harder, and faster, and becoming more and more panicked. She’s afraid I won’t listen this time; afraid I won’t stop. And she KNOWS – she learned this very well – disapproval brings that bad feeling – that dark, impending-doom sensation in the stomach. She doesn’t like that! And it is she who has kept me relatively safe from that, these sixty years. Yes, it has only been with her help that I’ve managed a reasonably successful, main-stream existence. I’m fairly well-liked by a broad variety of people. The ripples she couldn’t stop me from making, we managed to smooth back over – to contain.
But now the waterfall looms. This could be the big one.
As I endeavor to align my will more fully with that of Spirit, it seems necessary to surrender the protection of my little girl’s people-pleasing ways. For how can I hear God’s direction if my mind is full of machinations – vigilance? Oh but this little protector is sore afraid. What dreadful waves am I liable to make – what awful judgments might I incur?
She’s really getting active.
So why did this affirmation remind me of her? (“I am love. I now choose to love and approve of myself. I see others with love.”)
I get it.
That little girl inside me needs unconditional love. She needs appreciation and approval. Oh she had love as a child; no denying it. But she deduced early on that love and approval were somehow conditioned on shutting up, shutting down, fitting in. I can see now that she and I have been struggling ever since.
I love you little girl. It’s okay to relax now. The only love you need is mine – and God’s – and that is unconditional. You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe. I love you; I approve of you; I appreciate you. You can let go now. Let’s both of us find out who I really am . . . when we’re not afraid . . . when we aren’t pulling against each other. What’s wanting to come out, little girl? What inside us wants to express? I need you, little girl, because I think you’re the one with the answer.