Tag Archives: inner child

“Talent is genetic. It’s what you do with it that counts” ~Martin Ritt

“Not only will your answers tell you what you missed in the past; they will tell you what you can be doing, now, to comfort and encourage your artist child. It is not too late, no matter what your ego tells you.” ~Chapter 7- The Artist’s Way

 

I have combined chapter 6 and 7 in order to make up for lost time. Chapter 7 intrigues me for it is recovering a sense of connection. For me, this week will be focused on connecting the inner child, the little Krissy inside of me as well as connecting with my world on a deeper level. Also, interestingly enough, this week will also attempt to connect me to my own jealousy–more of that later. For now. Enjoy an Archeological excercise.

1. As a kid, I missed the chance to learn how to dance, for fear of not doing it properly, thus making a fool of myself.

2.As a kid I lacked confidence when among my peers.

3.As a kid, I could have used more love and support from my family

4.As a kid, I dreamed of being famous, prestigious, and a Nobel Peace Prize recipient

5. As a kid, I wanted a(n) imaginary friend

6. In my house, we never had enough communication and understanding

7. As a kid, I needed more attention, care, understanding, and foundational support

8.I am sorry that I will never again see Reina Nash

9. For years, I have missed and wondered about Florida and the loss of love

10. I beat myself up about the loss of self-control, self-confidence, and good judgment

 

🙂 AND NOW FOR THE POSITIVE! 🙂

1. I have a loyal friend in Jackie Feldman, Justin Stephenson, Mary Ellen Fenton

2. One thing I like about my town is that it is within walking distance to the ocean

3. I think I have nice eyes

4. Writing my morning pages has shown me I can “get down” creative genius

5. I am taking a greater interest in a more creative and spiritual life

6. I believe I am getting better at maintaining my inner peace

7. My artist has started to pay more attention to images, sunlight, and little moments in my life

8. My self-care is frowned upon

9. I feel more confident in my success

10. Possibly, my creativity is going to be my redemption for a life of suffering and my biggest proponent of financial and spiritual success

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“Pain throws your heart to the ground, Love turns the whole thing around, fear is a friend whose misunderstood, but I know the heart of life is good.” ~ <3 John Mayer <3

I have come to the end of the first week of the Artist’s Way. I’ve enjoyed this week immensely. As if creatively I am freed I find myself beginning to tromp around familiar mental ground that I have not visited in some time. My philosophical curiosity is back at an all time high, and I feel more spiritual than I have in months.

I sit at my desk staring out at the cold winter world outside my window. The way the trees look against the sky, the way the fallen leaves lay on the ground, the plastic snowflakes my mother hung on the window as decoration all speak to me. It may seem silly, but it makes me feel filled with warmth. I feel connected once more to the world around me and it is a wonderful feeling. More importantly, I feel more connected to myself, that beautiful little girl who fell in love with the world around her. The little girl who loved the smaller universes hiding beneath rocks, and the bigger universe sung in the stars.

It feels good to be here, to be present, to be in the now. It feels good to feel like an artist, a philosopher, to feel human. If you ever get to read this, Thank you Julia Cameron for introducing my eyes to the familiar way I seemed to have lost.

“Knowing others is wisdom, knowing yourself is enlightenment” ~Lao Tzu

And thank you to the Great Creator for allowing me to connect to you once more.

To all who read this. Namaste.

Peace,
Kris



“My Outer Child is Holding my Inner Child Hostage”

“Remember, your artist is a child. Find and protect that child. Learning to let yourself create is like learning to walk. The artist child must begin by crawling. Baby steps will follow and there will be falls–yecchy first paintings, beginning films that will look like unedited home movies, first poems that would shame a greeting card.” ~ The Artist’s Way – pg 44

I’ve already discovered that the best of my creative abilities come from the remembrance of my inner child–the adventurous and curious child of my earlier youth– as my earlier post would indicate. Walking along this journey I have come to realize to realize that my inner child has suffered many blows and for a while was hiding in the corner of the creative crevice in my mind. I am taking steps to protect and love that child. I take her to empty rooms in my mind and let her explore. I treat her to long walks, and silent moments in nature. I let her play with my niece and nephew, allowing her imagination to take reign and revel in the laughter of the my niece and nephew’s laughter. I push her to be strong. I tell her continually how much I love her, reminding her how beautiful she really is.

We all have that inner child within us. It is the excitement we experience when we see a cool new toy that we wished we had growing up. It is the joy of coloring in a coloring book and the smell of crayons, even though we are “too” old to do so.  When we hurt, when we are scared, our inner child is begging for relief, for security, for protection. It makes me wonder how many of us are truly in tuned with the inner child.

Children are naturally happy. Their imagination is their greatest asset in guarding them from the demons of the adult world. Children view the world with wonder. New toys, the rain, the first snowfall ignites a fire inside of them. Oh if only we could taste that snowflake on our tongues!

My outer child is holding my inner-child hostage” ~Anonymous

So I ask you… are you holding your inner-child hostage? Or do you allow him or her to explore the world around them with wonder, magic, and love?

Peace,

Kris


“Journeys, like artists are born and not made…”

Assignment #1

Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will–whatever we may think. ~Lawrence Durrell

Thank you.
You stared up, from the bottom of the Christmas tree, dazzled by the blinking lights content with the magic scent of it all. The water drips from the broken branches you couldn’t avoid watering in your quest to complete your volunteered goal. Had to prove you were big enough to do it. You were big enough. (And just small enough)
You climbed up onto your window ledge, pretending you were on a cushioned window seat. The kind you once on a T.V show. The kind you wanted as your own. You rested your head against the cool pane of the glass. You stared down to where your mother’s rose bush once bloomed, watching the moon sparkle in the snow. The wind whispered with snowy dust and your mind wandered to the whimsical sky, the stars singing in silence back at you. Thank you.
You tucked yourself away in your closet, crammed in between your dresses and shoeboxes. Each of your stuffed animal comrades close enough to hear all your thoughts. Mr. Bear, your first love, cradled you in his oversized bear hug back to you. The green velvet ribbon soft against your cheek, and always coming undone. His soft brown hair was like a pet beneath her fingers, and his dark ball eyes providing comfort in times of fright.  He held your hand through all of the fights.
Thank you, Mr. Bear. Thank you.
Thank you for remembering the star filled eyes of Grandpa. For the time he pushed in you the cart over the wooden planks in the Ribbon and Fake Flower gallery in the little Nursery on the way to the mall. Ba Bump. Ba bump. Just like the cars traveling on Sunrise. Ba Bump. Ba Bump. Brrrrum brrruuuum. He pretended he was a car. Racing you through, stopping and slowing. Making you giggle out of control. Thank you for remembering the way your grandmother would snap. “Eddie, Eddie knock it off,” scolding a child who humble acquiesced his wife’s remark with a gentle nod and an affirmative, “uh huh.” He waited for her to turn back to your mother and ribbons and the motor would start again, quieter than before.  Thank you for remembering his whistle, the touch of his flannel shirts, the love swirling in his eyes. Thank you.
Thank you for your imagination. The fake tests and roll call you made for “School,” the fine French dinner in yellow Playskool chairs. For days tromping through the redwood forest, finding forbidden creatures beneath logs, leaves, and rocks. Thank you for the twirl of pretty pretty princesses, for the colored monsters living in the trees, for the flight off the swing, for the award-winning goal during recess.
Dear Child,
Thank you for painting my childhood with color. Thank you for tucking yourself away in the lost and found bin. And thank you more than ever for waiting patiently among the lost in order to be found.
Thank you inner child, for showing me the Way.
Peace,
Kris