I am noticing a very happy thread of joy flowing through my body. I am aware of the next journey exciting me, a time to gather with my clan and to dance and journey together. I am to meet with my ancestry and to explore unknown territories together. It’s been awhile since I gathered in this way and I am hungry for the opportunity to be amongst the knowledge and wisdom of so many. A place where I am not in any way seen as different, where I feel accepted just as I am. And I recognize my own acceptance of myself and love of the creature born to me, so seeing that mirrored back to me sparks off that joy and liberates my spirit, touching the soul of my heart and freeing any negative thoughts about who I should now be in the world. Back to the primal, back to the innocence, reaching into the story and poetry of my life, trusting and acknowledging it is the right path, the true path and I can play as much as I like with it. Take away the serious frown, take away the need to conform, it really does not matter. What has it ever really done for us? Learning what is right from wrong, listening inward to the heart, following spirit and all it teaches us, dancing freely with the elements and caring for nature, what could possibly be more important than that.
When our own innocence meets with the innocence of the natural world, we have unity; we have a deeper understanding that rarely exists in our modern, faster than though society. Then there is the loss of joy for the memory of simple excitement. But for more possession and wealth, for faster richer, bigger, better. The excitement of innocence and joy becomes buried amidst the toys and playthings, the dressing up clothes and the imaginative wonderment of childhood. Forced into a closet of yesteryear. Until one day a key may open the door… And how many doors need to open? What will it take to open all of those locks and to allow the full essence of our innocence shine through? What would it take that we might be brave enough to let go of the fabric of that conformity and face enough of our own inner-sense? We can await our own catastrophes, we can wait for the heartaches and losses and pain, in order to be forced into that place of looking inwardly. Or we can begin, one step at a time to peek into that closet that was once closed and pick through some of those old memories, just to see if there is a little voice in there, some where that says ‘remember me?’ A little voice that had to be silenced incase it spoke a little too much or invited us to feel a pain that we preferred to put to one side. That same little voice, if in that closet too long may just begin to bang too loudly on the closed door, or throw a tantrum amidst what is buried there, creating turmoil and dust and a whole mixture of darkness that wants to erupt and blacken out our lives. Better still to find that golden key and invite the child out to play!
from ‘Reclaiming Our Innocence’