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Wednesday, 16 February 2011

New light through old windows...

I recall recently bemoaning the fact that I felt as if I didn't have enough fun.

I've mourned for my Free Child, the child within me as adult, whom I believe - I know - I over-feed to keep happy.

My Free Child likes to go to concerts, theatre and the cinema. She likes to stay up late, watching old movies or stuff on TV that only she likes, while her other, older half lies snoring in bed... She likes to sleep in late till Midday, being softly awoken with orange juice, toast and a boiled egg, or preferably two.

Last weekend, for our intensive training course, we were asked to bring in photos of ourselves from when we were younger... As I type this, I'm still not sure what this exercise will evoke.

As I searched, photo after photo of me and my life to date came out from under the bed.

Pre-Grizz, post-Grizz, weddings, birthdays, holidays...

In the oldest photo I can find amid my stash, at seventeen, I stand happy, reaching down to the family dog in my parent's back garden.

The sun is out, the dog, a scruffy Yorkshire Terrier, Shandy, is as sweet and loveable as he ever was, and I'm in a blindingly white cheesecloth hippy tunic, wearing a long cotton cross-over Indian Paisley print skirt in china blue and white.

I can still sense the softness of that cotton on my skin now. I know on my feet that I'm wearing flat, white toe-post sandals with gold script, that I lived in during my teen years...

When I wasn't going barefoot!

The thing is, in all of the pictures I have chosen, from seventeen on, I am happy enough. ...The smile is real, shows all my teeth, and crinkles show at the corners of my eyes.

There's me at Henley with Sarah in our early twenties after Uni, both with wide-brimmed hats, very Eighties', holding on for fear of losing them to the wind, while whishing past the sculls, seated with her father on his referee's boat; There's me clutching Grizz in a sailor suit on my knee at home in my late twenties, just after his Church christening; I still have that suit.

There we are, Grizz and I, perched by the harbour upon a metal bollard just after going to see the vast boats; I'm seated rather precariously, holding on to him because he wants to run away from me, full of excitement and boundless energy - He was so full of beans when he was little, I could hardly keep up with him most of the time...

Shortly after that photo was taken, I lost my mother.

I still don't really know where she went, but bits of her live on in me.

She puts words in my mouth some days. They come out, and I hear her voice, what she would say, the expressions she used, and I remember these are not my words...

And I wonder if it is then, at that time, that my soi-disant Free Child got stuck, then was pushed down still further and forgotten in the torment of watching my dad slowly ebb away, after years of cancer made him thin and brittle-boned...

I'm sorry this hasn't been a very uplifting post.

For me, it's probably been quite revealing though.

Can I invite you to look through your photos, mes bloggy loves, to think things through, and to consider bringing more fun into your lives, if you so desire?

And Paulo Coelho tells me this:

Avoiding problems you need to face is avoiding the life you need to live...

Evitar los problemas que debes enfrentar es evitar la vida que tienes que vivir.



Saz said...

you are a wise wise woman,

I;m so proud of you, and that you want to be my friend..are my friend, my sister

love you lots

sara x

I have the lynsey buck soundstage dvd stevie guests on it..its brilliant

libby said...

I feel like the child in the classroom with her hand up high saying 'me miss, me' because I already do exactly what you suggest, I always have done and hope, unless I go blind to continue. I cannot imagine a day when I don't look at photos...always have and always will.
I am sorry for the loss of your parents, and the pain that followed...but as you are an intelligent and caring person I feel that you are looking after everyone in your life now including your free child (such a lovely idea)..long may that continue...

Jarmara Falconer said...

I've always tried to let my child live her live through my eyes. Every now again she lets me see my world through her eyes.

The butterfly on the flower or the boat on the water. The sunshine after the rain. The sweet taste of ice cream on a summers day. The hand in my hand when I need comforting are all the child within me. She comes when she know I need a moment out of the rush of adult life.

Dragonfly Dreams said...

Quite the contrary, Fhina! Your post was quite uplifting in your encouragement to let that younger self out! And I do believe it is time that I did just that! Thank you!
And thank you for your insights into your younger self! Shall we plan a cyber-slumber party?

Moannie said...

I still have that girl in me, Ffina,she starts to jiggle the moment I hear 'One two three o/clock, four o/clock rock' she purrs when Frankie starts to sing and wells up with John Donne. They never leave us, those girls...they're just waiting for us to fix our faces.

Deborah said...

A wonderfully real post so glad I stimbled across your blog :o)

Something I wrote earlier...

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