I’ve been remembering.
Remembering when I was fully happy, fully myself, fully held. I used to play in the backyard of our little house in San Diego. The trees and grass swaying around me, the birds singing their songs, the sun warm on my braids, my dolls nearby, my flat brown feet in the dirt, my little brother splashing water + making mud pies beside me. Our mother somewhere nearby, watering her plants or polishing a new piece of antique furniture she just found.
This was before age 7 — before life became so very hard and I had to develop ways to cope. Before I began to feel what I know now to be unworthiness and abandonment.
I find that my subconscious mind goes back to this place often and I often wonder why. The place where the sun and the wind and the Earth first held me, filling up my very bones with good things, with safety and love. I go back to the elements when I need to be held. I created this so I can keep remembering.
