February 18, 2009 @ 8:05am

I'm writing some stories from the perspective of a child, actually I wrote the stories before but now I've changed the voice in an attempt to explore the nuances of the story. It's joy to settle back into the mindset of a child and create literature that might appeal to a younger audience. I love the way in which the child voice speaks, the simplicity of the voice and the brutal honesty that unfolds but not on purpose or in an effort to harm. It's the way a child looks at life through innocent lens, looks at life in all it's grandeur. I'm enjoying a sense of relaxation as I portray a child's voice and envelope it into a story that has substance and an arc.
The relaxation comes when I am able to write without the need to bring in the rose colored glasses of adulthood. Or bring in the knowledge that is not important and or zapped with adult sensibilities. It is refreshing to return to a time when the world didn't seem so bad, when the sense of self was in tact and the joy of love was at home, at school or when you were outside playing. I like the way in which a moment can stand out for a child but as soon be gone in the next instant. The ability to play, to pretend and be in lands of make believe are prime with life's simpliest treasures.
There has been this joy that has returned to me as I explore childhood memories. For many years I thought I had the worst childhood on the planet, I focused on all the bad things and gave no light or attention to what was good. I look back with eyes patient and open, I see that my younger years were really wonderful and the moments I propagate as terrible are few and when I look at those moments closely, the incidents are minor and immediately dissipate with meaning. I can't help but want to give honor and praise to my mother, who created a world of comfort and love. A world where I may have lacked a father, I didn't really miss his presence. We had everything and a whole bunch of stuff we didn't need. We lived a very lavish lifestyle for kids with a single parent. To have your own room was a luxury but I had that and even when my little sister was born there was always a commitment by my mother to ensure that I did not have to share. Why she honored me with this gift, I have never asked her because I've been too busy feeling upset about having to help out with my sister as oppose to cherishing all that was good but I was a kid. I look at the pictures and I see a kid who is explorative, inventive, adventurous and excited to learn as much as she can. I look at myself today and none of that has changed although when I engage those activities, others think I'm a bit crazy but I don't mind because I know me.
I ate some cereal the other day and I hadn't eaten cereal in a long time. We always had boxes and boxes and boxes of cereal atop our refrigerator. This was something our house was known for, the cereal boxes and the goody cabinet which had all types of goodies like cookies, candies, chips, snacks and anything that wasn't considered regular food. The kids from the neighborhood would come over, some would sneak stuf out of the goody cabinet when we weren't looking. We never thought anything about it, it was there. We had no problems sharing because we knew it would be replenished in no time. The way we were carefree with popsicles, candy and goodies behooves me know. I hadn't remembered this fact until recently.
People used to think that we were rich btu I had no concept because I spent my days wishing for everything in the Spiegel's, Sears or JCPenney cataloge and since I didn't have all that stuff, I figured we were desperately poor. But the flip side of this is that I wasn't exactly materialistic either, I may have wanted things in the cataloge but I wasn't consumed with the need to have that stuff plus when people tell me about what we had, I realize I hadn't really paid attention. I hadn't appreciated all that was good around me and more importantly, I hadn't felt the joy of living in a home with so much abundance.
The child's voice is so expansive and unbarred. It looks but can't see everything that is in front of it because children lack complete knowledge. I get the feeling that spirituality and the path to enlightenment is this way. It's the ability to be present in the world much like a child, to look and perhaps not fully understand what one is seeing. To recognize that knowledge is limited but available and to be confident enough to know that in time all will be revealed. I though that getting older was about getting better but the older I get, the less I know. The more I'm alright with the not knowing, it gives aging an excitement I hadn't expected. It gives each moment vitality and newness. It gives me what I am on the inside because on the inside I'm just a little girl wondering through this world trying to make sense of it and as long as I continue to play, experience life in a playful manner engaging make-believe or pretend realities, I will get closer to the truth, I will finally stumble upon in the playground of life who and what I was meant to be.
I am perfect and I am whole and I am complete. I LOVE ME!