We Have the Same Feet...

As I settled into my meditation, I closed my eyes and was transported to a familiar scene. A young girl laying on the ground with red corduroy pants on and a light and dark blue long sleeve shirt. She was on her side with her legs crossed over one another while nestled on a big pillow and a shag carpet, reminiscent of my childhood home. I felt a deep connection to her, as if I knew her intimately. 

Without opening my eyes, I began to envision a dome of light surrounding her.  The light grew brighter, filling my mind with a sense of calm and peace. As the light enveloped her, I felt myself being pulled back to my physical presence—sitting on a blanket in a sun-drenched field. The sound of chimes and a gentle gong vibration washed over me, calming my mind and heart. 

The warm sunlight danced across my face as I continued to breathe deeply. I sensed someone beside me and wasn’t surprised when I opened my eyes to find the young girl sitting next to me. We locked gazes, and I knew at that moment, we were communicating without words. I noticed her dark hair, styled in pigtails with colorful yarn bows, and my gray hair, which seemed to amuse her. She compared it to fairies' hair, making me smile. So often people associate grey hair to being old and she saw a fairy.  She was young enough not to be conditioned yet and was free to use her imagination. 

As we sat together, I began to move my ankles to restore circulation. The girl nodded in recognition, and we both giggled when I said, "We have the same feet." It was a simple yet profound moment, acknowledging our shared humanity despite the passage of time.

In that instant, I realized this was my 7-year-old self, visiting me before my 47th birthday. I had recently released my inner child from the burdens of 40 years, and it felt like a weight had been lifted. I told her she could let go of those struggles, and she seemed to understand.

As our time together came to a close, the girl vanished, leaving me with a sense of wonder. But I soon heard the sound of joyful movement, and I caught glimpses of her dancing through the sunflowers. Her presence remained with me, a reminder that my inner child was free to be playful and carefree once more.

As I drove home, the world seemed different – more vibrant, more alive. I felt a sense of peace and renewal, as if I was seeing the world through the eyes of my 7-year-old self. When I picked up my son from work, I glanced down at my feet, knowing that my inner child would always be with me, free from the burdens of the past.

-A.J.