little me

this is me, age 2. i love the little innocent face, the deep wondering eyes, the tentative eyebrows, the finger to the mouth as if holding back a thought.

this is me.

before the world changed me.

i look at this picture, then i ask, "where did you go, little girl?"

and the answer comes softly from deep within..."i'm here... i'm just waitin'..."

my little self. i love you.

over the decades, this child has remained in her hiding place, waiting, watching, whispering way back in the corners of my mind.

she's aware, and so am i- now.

we grow together. we commune. we love each other.

someone said to me the other day, after they met their little self for the first time, "this is really weird."

i quite agree.

but it's real.

just because we grow up, doesn't mean the little one does. the parts of us that get left behind because of pain or trauma are there waiting for acknowledgement, for healing, for courage that we hold out to them. and the HEALER stands in the shadows, quiet and gentle, hands outstretched, to bring us together.

it's really weird. it's REALly weird.

and that's ok.