MY INNER CHILD

                                         

My inner child pushed aside the other parts of me and burst through to my surface. Goodness, she was not at all dainty about it, either! She showed up with an enchanting giggle and a desire to be noticed. Her timing is impeccable.

I am tickled she decided to make her appearance right now. Her arrival was somewhat circuitous. As I sit here pondering what made her decide to push and shove until I noticed her, I am donning a genuine smile on my face. I think I have determined what gave her the initial nudge she required.

During December, we (along with some church choir members) adopted a family for Christmas through the Salvation Army (they are a true blessing to all in need). Our assigned family, known only by a number, consisted of a mother and four children~three girls and a boy. Each child completed a form stating what items they would love to have from Santa. The mother filled out no form...requesting nothing. The forms were typed by the Salvation Army, and shoe and clothing sizes and the children's ages were listed. At the bottom was the space for each child to write the special goodies they hoped to receive. I was instantly taken by their selections. They each asked for books! And none asked for more than two presents. Of course, that made me want to spoil them with an extravaganza of gifts.

It was the little boy who captured my attention. He loves art. He loves to draw and do all kinds of artwork. In my mind, I pictured a sensitive soul. I knew I would have no difficulty supplying him with gifts that would let him pursue his artistic interest.

With the four lists in hand, I immediately went to Amazon.com and purchased the books the three little girls wanted...and additional ones by their favorite authors. During my hunt for the "right" art instructional books for the little boy, I came across one that seemed so perfect. Reviews of it indicated that many school art teachers even refer to it when instructing their students. Bingo! I ordered it along with other art books. There. All four of them would be receiving the books they desired and more.

It was my daughter who went shopping with another choir member to choose the remaining gifts. I did tell her to be sure she bought art supplies for the little boy to complement the books I had chosen for him. They did a beautiful job of seeing to it that each child received clothing, shoes, and toys. As I had also advised, they bought the mother a gift certificate. There was no way I wanted her to be forgotten on Christmas Day!

The books arrived in the mail. I unpacked them and made sure all were the correct ones. I was thrilled to find the order was exact. It was during that time that I thumbed through one of the art books. I was struck by the techniques this book depicted. It was a FUN art book. I scampered off to the computer, and I promptly ordered that very same book for ME. It came via our trusty United States Postal Service, and I placed it on the shelf above my computer. Forgotten for the time being.

The holidays came and went. Restlessness settled inside me, and I could not seem to rid myself of it. And in the same day, two things occurred that whispered to my inner child that her time to reveal her presence was at hand.

First, I spoke on the phone to my human guardian angel. I wrote about her in a previous entry called ANGEL O'MINE. She lives in Massachusetts, so seeing her is not an easy chore. We laughed a lot~the woman is an absolute riot. She was preparing to take a much-needed vacation to Antigua. Then suddenly, she said to me that I need change in my life. She said I need variety to reboot my spirit. I was a bit surprised (although I should not have been, since she always gets an exact read on me), because I had not indicated anything felt amiss in my world. The conversation ended later with my wishes for her to have a fun but relaxing trip.

The second whisper occurred as evening approached. That familiar restlessness returned. I was unsure what to do...what I wanted to do. It was then that I plucked the new art book from the shelf and looked through it page by page. My eyes grew wider and wider, and my brain was spinning. This book is basic art instruction. But with those basics, I began to think of ways I could take the techniques and make them mine. Put my imprint on them. Create art that is unique. That I own in some way.

I grew very excited while my brain buzzed. I needed to buy this and that. I would have to find such and such. Oh, good...I already have those. My hubby was positively darling listening to my animated babblings, and he fled the house to buy me one of the critical items I needed to create the first of the projects I have chosen to try. I felt like a little kid bubbling with enthusiasm.

And that is where I am right now. Little Bedazzzled1 is in the foreground. I intend to honor her presence by embracing her to the best of my ability. Maybe she is the one who is in charge of rebooting my spirit, and I have neglected her for too long. We shall see!

"Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon.  A happiness weapon.  A beauty bomb.  And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one.  It would explode high in the air~explode softly~and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air.  Floating down to earth~boxes of Crayolas.  And we wouldn't go cheap, either~not little boxes of eight.  Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in.  With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest.  And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination."  ~Robert Fulghum