The War Is Over
A Conversation With My Inner Child
I have been doing a lot of inner work the past month or so. Being alone with my thoughts for days on end has opened up a lot within me and forced me to take a look at the dark parts of myself. There has been weeping, laughter, despair, joy and revelation. But overall, it’s been a catalyst for growth and a challenge to myself.
A challenge to take inventory.
A challenge to be brutally honest.
A challenge to be kind, gentle, loving.
A challenge to dare to believe that it won’t always be this way.
That shit is scary. It’s scary to admit you’re not as strong as you’d like. It’s scary to admit that deep down you yearn for more. It’s even scarier to admit that you’re scared of wholeness. Scared of health. Scared that taking those steps you know will be good for you may also lead to hurt, disappointment and heartache.
That being said, I have to act on what I’ve seen and learned. I deserve to live life as a whole being. I deserve the opportunity to dream and hope. I deserve goodness. And so, as a gift to myself, I am taking this extra time to delve deep into myself, my fears, and my traumas. All the things I have locked away for years, some even, since childhood.
I was recently chatting with a friend and coach about self-sabotage and how it shows up in my life. I commented that I don’t think I’ve truly committed to anything fully in my life. That may seem like a weird thing for me to say. But I think it’s true. I work hard, I’ve achieved some goals and done things I’m proud of. But work ethic and commitment are two different things.
My friend had asked me “What would it look like for you to fully commit to something?” I realised I couldn’t answer that question fully because I don’t think I know what I want. I have long shut down desire in myself as a way to survive my world. And now, all these years later, my life is the fullest and most secure it has ever been. But all those ways that I protected myself remain.
Although I have nothing to fear, my guard remains up. I don’t know any other way of life. And as I have been taking inventory, I realise that it is time to lay my weapons down. It’s time to let down my shoulders, breathe out, and put down my shield and sword.
sigh
But it’s SO DAMN SCARY. My body clenches up at the thought of opening myself up emotionally to the possibility of hope, love, stability, and comfort.
My inner child is screaming out,
WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WE ARE SAFE! WHY WOULD YOU UNDO ALL THE WORK WE PUT IN TO BE SAFE?
And like a good parent, I lovingly hold her as she shakes and weeps. I hold her and say:
I know. You’re scared. I’m scared too. But we’re okay now. We don’t need all these walls, moats, traps and weapons. We don’t need this army anymore. Love, the war is over. It’s time for us to learn to live in peace. Don’t worry, you’ll never be alone. I’m here. Every step of the way I’m here. I’ll always be here. You will never be alone or abandoned again as long as I’m here. You will always be enough as long as I’m here.
Baby girl. Put down your weapons. Step out of the city walls and take in the sun. She’s shining just for you. Look across the river, beyond the valleys and the hills. They’re calling your name. They welcome you with their life and adventure.
Cocotte, close your eyes. Take a deep breath. All those things you thought you could never have, all the dreams you put aside and sacrificed for us, you can pick those up again. You don’t have to hide anymore. We can’t hide anymore. It’s a new day and together, we’re gonna take it in.
I love you. I am so thankful for you and all that you have done for us. You carried so much more than you should have. You grew up way too fast, I know. But I am here, you can be a child again. I’ll take care of the rest. I’m so sorry that so many grown ups failed you in this area. So many put their burdens on you. It was wrong. I can’t change what they did, but I can promise you a better tomorrow.
Look around. We are so loved. We are held, valued, and treasured. Look! There is soo much life and joy in our world now. Don’t you see? We have nothing to fear. Look at how far we’ve come. You helped get us here. But I think it’s time to retire from the saving business. It’s time we stepped in to the living part. And there’s no better time than now.
As her lip quivers and her breath starts to slow. I kiss her forehead, like I know she’s always wanted, and squeeze her tight. We sit in silence taking in the moment. Soaking in the reality that life, for us, has finally begun. Daring to begin to dream of what a life without war and death means for us. Daring to be curious about what has been sitting in our vaults for all these years. Daring to hope for the future for the very first time in a very very long time.
