Loving the Inner Child

Many ideas for posts have come and gone recently and I just haven't the time to commit to documenting each one.  This one will round up a few of the goings-on neatly though.  We've had a little change around in the house and I am settling in as though we'd just moved house to a new and exciting place.  I've been planning a change for some time, but it didn't come as I expected it, which was to be some updating in the kitchen (still planned).

After a session at work which did not end as well as possible, I returned home reflecting on my current position and my true motivations.  Being a mother, this is nothing new, but more and more I have questioned my true path in life and whether this is just an inevitable conflict such as we all just have to work through, or whether it is something more, something I see myself as setting free from soon. 

That afternoon however, I needed something cathartic and immediate.  The idea popped into my head that we could change the bedrooms over, moving furniture and all, and that a new arrangement might actually relieve some of the space problems we had been living with for the last few years.  After measuring up, I saw that it would work well so I texted Raj to warn him that I'd just booked our Saturday for a thorough spring clean and movearound.  Fortunately, he had no objections.  (Pictures to follow soon, hopefully...)

So, we did it.  The children loved all the activity, and apparently the result too.  It struck me as rather odd that I hadn't jumped on the idea before.  Anyway, it is giving me a chance to nestle in and reflect on the changes within myself as well, to start to enjoy them more.  I am not sure whether that is particularly noticeable to anyone but me (apart from the cessation of hair dying revealing just how much grey hair I have), but I am certain that I do not wish to become more cynical with age, but instead, to bring more joy and love to all in my life.

To be able to do this fully and unconditionally, I need to let go of some old baggage that I have lugged around for a few decades.  I've been exploring ways of laying some of the groundwork in this myself before I embark on a serious commitment to psychotherapy.  (It may sound odd, but I am very excited about that prospect!)  The first exercise beyond all the reading is writing to my Inner Child (from a suggestion in "The Emotionally Absent Mother" by Jasmin Lee Cori).  I love writing letters, though sadly, very few people can find the time these days. This way, I can write myself a letter, full of love, and I know I will really appreciate it.  I even found some Raggedy Ann stationery from my childhood.  (If this makes uncomfortable reading for anyone, well, I'm fine with it.  I've never been a very private person anyway.)