A Walk with My Inner Child

A Walk with My Inner Child

Today I took another stroll around the beach, the beach behind the house in which I lived.

This was a path down memory lane, a lane which I had forgotten existed.

This was a path hidden deep within, a path to places she only dreamed of.

These were places she would pretend.

These were places where she was invisible to the world.

She was too little to understand the rise and fall of the ocean.

She knew that she couldn’t always access her favorite place.

Her favorite place was a cave. It was a cave in which she could hide.

When she was in the cave she was hidden, hidden in plain sight.

On the left was a protrusion of land. This land hid the cave from piercing eyes.

On the right was the vast ocean where only boats could see the cave.

There were no boats. It was a lost, lonely fishing village.

She was safe here. She could be herself. It was here that she was a little girl.

She peered out from every angle of the cave, knowing that, for now, she was safe.

She couldn’t be found here. She hoped she would never be found, here in her own little world.

Just outside the cave was a fortress of rock formations. Within these rocks she imagined a home. It was a home where she found peace within the walls.

She was all alone in the fortress, in the rooms where, in her mind, there were other children. She was loved.

In the rooms, one a bedroom, one a kitchen, she made it a happy place.

Inside the kitchen she formed places for her imaginary family.

The flat rocks became dishes, dishes in which she lovingly prepared delicious meals.

Everyone was happy in her home.

All who entered inside were treated like she wanted to be treated.

She loved every one of them, a love that had no conditions.

She could be herself here. She was safe. No one judged her. No one ridiculed her.

Just outside the rock formation was a beaten path. She walked this path, up over the huge rocks.

She wound a little corner, tucked away behind a tree.

In that corner she would sit and daydream of faraway places where everyone was smiling.

She knew it existed. She saw glimpses of this faraway place when she was reading.

She saw glimpses of it when she went to her friend’s homes.

She wished someone would find her, but it had to be
someone who would take her away.

She wanted to be found by someone who could save her.

She needed to be somewhere, but not where she had to be.

Oh, she wished for a home with peace.

She longed to be found.

But no one ever came.

She sat on the side of the bank, watching and wishing for someone to come and take her.

But no one ever came.

She went back to the beach, down a different path this time.

This time she went to the lobster holding pen.

This pen wasn’t always on the rocks.

She was delighted when she saw the holding pen.

She was small. She could climb inside the wooden structure.

She could see through the wooden lats.

She could see everything around her and she was happy.

She was hidden in plain sight.

No one could find her. She was safe. She was safe, at least for now.

In those moments she pretended she lived in a place where everyone was happy.

Inside the lobster holding pen she was loved. She could do no wrong.

She waited inside the wooden box until she knew she had to go back.

The day of escape was coming to a close.

Now she had to go back. She had to go back to that white two storey house.

Inside that house was not where she belonged.

Inside that house was not where she wanted to be.

No one came to save her. No one came to take her from that place of horrors.

She had to return to the place where she dreaded to go.

As she walked slowly, ever so slowly up the path that was beaten down, her heart was heavy.

What would she find inside? Was there an atmosphere of fear?

She always knew what lurked inside that house.

She felt the familiar presence of tension at she reluctantly opened the door.

Was he here? She hoped he was gone. She wished he was gone.

When he was gone there was a different atmosphere. It was calmer then.

The calmness never stayed for, hidden behind its safe veils were feelings of dread.

Those feelings, although she tried to block them, came rushing up. She pushed them down.

She could not allow those feelings to destroy her peace.

She became invisible again. She hid in the corner of the daybed, in the kitchen.

She had a View-Master and some reels.

When she looked at those reels she became part of the 3d color images.

She became hidden in plain sight.

She lived in the forest with Bambi and the other animals.

She lived with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

She escaped in the imaginary life of Dennis the Menace.

In the reels she could be whoever she wanted to be.

As long as she stayed inside the realm of the reels she was safe.

She dared not allow she eyes to wander over the View-Master, or to the side.

As long as he forgot she was there, in the corner beside the wood stove, on the daybed, she was safe.

She was little but she had the ability to escape. The escape to her world was delightful.

In her world there was no pain. In her world everyone smiled. They smiled all the time.

In her world there was love. In her world she was free. In her world she found peace.

Peace was in the little cave; peace was in the fortress of rock formations; peace was in the little corner tucked away behind a tree; peace was in the lobster holding pen; peace was in her heart.

She knew that peace existed. She had seen it. She would see it again.

And she did.