One foot in 1971
Thank you for the lovely comments I've received on my last podcast. I wanted to record the beauty I can see in what is otherwise a hard situation. My attention and focus is on supporting and witnessing that beauty. Of course it's only one side of what's happening.
I spent two days feeling as if at any moment I was going to spin out into a full blown panic attack and, even given the circumstances, I wasn't sure why. As an adult, I'm able to hold this experience; problem-solve; manage my emotions; understand that this is literally how life goes. So why the imminent panic?
Enter eight year old me. The me who still has a good relationship with her daddy. Who still thinks the sun shines out of him. Who still thinks he is the most clever, most funny, best person in her little world. Who kisses him goodbye every time he leaves.
She's terrified. Heartbroken. Does not have a single clue what she's supposed to be doing. What she wants to do is cry. Letting her do that let some pressure out, and now I'm feeling calmer. I let her play this morning, because she's been brave.
Time is layered. Our other selves are here right now. Love them too.