Who is that little girl?
We all have one inside of us.
Sometimes I’m more aware of her than at others.
Sometimes I wish I knew her better than I do.
All the same, I do know she is by my side, all the time.
So, who is she, and what is she up to now?
We all have childhood memories, some good, some not so good. Some memories are indelible, while others seem to require extra work to retrieve. Sometimes it seems pretty clear how a childhood event impacted us throughout our lives; so often, however, we are not able to make the connection between early incident and later in life behaviors. The mystery of memories can be difficult to unravel.
That little girl might have been frequently punished or criticized; today the grown woman might be skittish about taking risks or re-learning old behaviors. I was told by my father that my brothers were smart, but that I had good handwriting. Throughout my life, no one has been able to read my writing! So there! I proved my Dad wrong!
The praised child might be brave, or, on the other hand, arrogant. She might praise others, or feels no one comes up to her standards. It is not always clear how one experience impacts another. Cause and effect may not be obvious, but the awareness that, somehow, our imperfections have been shaped by our past, is apparent.
Many years have passed since childhood. Now is the time to put the past aside. If our internal little girl was not recognized, acknowledged and or cared for, now, in her senior-hood, she is clamoring for attention. Now, either because she has little to lose or she finally says “enough”, she is taking the opportunity to break out of her silence. Our job is to listen hard to figure out what it is she is saying, and determine what she needs.
What does she want?
Today, I met an art instructor who suggested I take a sculpting class. I about panicked! All I could imagine was a lump of clay looking like—well, an unidentifiably shaped lump of clay. Yet, a wee tiny voice said, “That might be fun to explore.” My little girl, the one who was given little support for her artistic endeavors, was trying to get my attention.
Friends have told me about exploring painting at 65 for the first time, or joining a choir after many, many years of avoidance, yet having fond memories of singing as a child.
The little girl may express herself in other than artistic ways. For instance, she may be crying out “no” for a change, or he may be demanding to be alone, after years of couple-ness. She may want to play with a cat, or quit taking care of her dog. Every one of us has a child inside, and each child is a little different from the others’.
So why now?
As we get older, two things happen which both allow and encourage that little girl to have a voice. The first is that we no long have all of the constraints of the responsibilities of adulthood. We don’t feel the need to perform, to be successful, to please others in order to make a living. The challenges of raising a family, showing the ‘right” face to the community or pleasing our parents are no longer paramount. What a relief to relax all of those “shoulds”.
Equally important to us at this stage of life is the wisdom of experience that we have gained over the years. We have learned that some things are just not that important; we have realized that, no matter how hard we try, some people cannot be pleased. We have come to the astonishing realization that, without knotting ourselves into a pretzel, we can be appreciated for who we are.
Now that we can put all of those “adult” challenges aside, our little girl can start having a voice again. When she was little- she was able to let you know what she wanted. She might have been angry at parents for not paying attention to her, or maybe she spent nights reading with a flashlight under the covers in order to explore the world. Before being shaped by the world, children color outside of the lines. It takes a while to relearn that kindergarten finger painting feels so much better than the strict coloring books of first grade!
If I listen now, what will I hear?
A friend recently told me about her mom who religiously cleaned her house every Saturday morning. Now her mom wants a robot vacuum so she can take it easy on her Saturday mornings.
Do you hear the voice of someone who is trying to figure out how to play, having pushed aside “ring around the rosie” for all those busy working years? Or are you one of the people who has discovered that you love to write poetry now that you are in your 70’s? Do you have an itch to kayak, or have you noticed that your best friend is suddenly seeking meditation retreats several times a year?
The itches, desires and wonderings are powerful expressions. Just pause to quiet the busy-ness that we have always pursued and they will be available. The second step is to take the risk to try out a new behavior. I COULD take a sculpting class. Who knows? Maybe I would enjoy it; maybe I’d actually be good at it; or maybe enjoy it WITHOUT being good at it. That would be the MOST amazing discovery for me.
We are in this together.
The joy of aging is that now we have the opportunity to recognize the child’s chair, the one that has been empty for all of these years. I can sit my little girl down next to me and have that long-lost conversation with her, giving her a voice that I have silenced for way too long. She and I can now be friends. I can give her what she needs and she will know that I am here for her.
Mama’s gone. She can’t tell me “no”. Daddy’s not here to tell me to attend to a task. My boss isn’t around to provide recognition and the kids are all grown, no longer offering distractions. It is all up to me- and her- to clear the space, to get to know each other.
Tell me, little one, what is it that you want to do today? Let’s sit down and talk about it.
