We sat in a café in Oxford reminiscing whilst baby Emma, my friend’s daughter, rolled serenely around the floor. Emma didn’t seem the least bit interested in what anyone thought of her behaviour; she didn’t cast her eye around the café even once to check for people’s reactions. Contentment and calmness seemed to be the only two things on the menu for her.
I remember being like that. I used to know what all the objects in our house looked like from the floor’s point of view. I’d stare at the imperfect patches under the dining room table and the little bits of dust that grab hold of the legs of chairs.The world underneath the furniture was my domain. There was tranquillity to be found in those little places.
“She’s Perfect”, I said to my friend about her daughter.
“I know”, replied the two year old’s proud mother.
“Please keep telling her that, will you?”, I said trying to imagine the possibilities.
What if we could safely deliver one human that is totally accepting of herself, realises her innate perfection and is able to remind others of theirs. It’s the state we all come from. Why do we forget?
Are any of you still there?
I remember being like that. I used to know what all the objects in our house looked like from the floor’s point of view. I’d stare at the imperfect patches under the dining room table and the little bits of dust that grab hold of the legs of chairs.The world underneath the furniture was my domain. There was tranquillity to be found in those little places.
“She’s Perfect”, I said to my friend about her daughter.
“I know”, replied the two year old’s proud mother.
“Please keep telling her that, will you?”, I said trying to imagine the possibilities.
What if we could safely deliver one human that is totally accepting of herself, realises her innate perfection and is able to remind others of theirs. It’s the state we all come from. Why do we forget?
Over the course of a lifetime most of us accumulate a multitude of whispers and looks that have scrutinised our actions and recorded our “imperfections” (As society perceives them. It’s an illusion there is no such thing) only to play them back to us.
We store them in the Great Hall of “They”. A place we start decorating from a very early age with portraits of the disapproving moments we meet on our journey.
We store them in the Great Hall of “They”. A place we start decorating from a very early age with portraits of the disapproving moments we meet on our journey.
Who are “They” and why do we care so much about “Them”?
According to the film Black Swan, “They” are in our head. We put them there because we think “They” are pushing us to achieve our goals but in reality “They” are just driving us crazy…sometimes literally!
So who would we be if we completely accepted and. …Mmmm…sorry to bring it up but I feel I must…. LOVED ourselves?
There you go, I said it and now it’s out there. Deal with it!
Are any of you still there?
I know that most of us, just like baby Emma, used to roll around the floor, content in our own perfection. I think it’s time we reminded ourselves that we were BORN PERFECT and still are.
Right, that’s it; I’m going into the Hall to smash some portraits. You can come but you need to bring your own bat. I will be smashing things and it will get loud!!!
No, there is no way of doing this quietly.
Right you are! WE ARE ALL BORN PERFECT, it's just "THEM" that make us think otherwise, as we grow older! The sad thing is, that "THEY" do it, just because WE ALLOW "THEM"!!!!!
ReplyDeleteSo, if you don't mind, I'll come along with you inside and grabbing my bat, I'll smash a few portraits myself as well and make as much a noise as possible!!!!!