January 19, 2013
There are so many things to learn from children. This is not some deep insightful thing I’m just discovering, I’m pretty sure a lot of people know that. I think babies can’t talk because if they could they’d tell us all the things we’ve forgotten about Heaven and the mysteries of the universe. I think we come into this world self assured, confident, intuitive, loving, forgiving, etc. We know we deserve love, we ask for what we need in the only way we know how, we don’t apologize for our needs, or for wanting to be held, loved, or heard. Basically we know that we’re the shiz. Until we don’t. We go out into the world and it ruins us. Or at least trips us up a little bit. When I was a child I was awesome. And if you had asked me I would have told you that.
My family jokes that I would go up to ANYONE and say, “I’m Camilla, will you be my fwend?” (I had some trouble with “r’s”) I also had no problem telling strangers that my favorite of the ten commandments was, “Thou shalt not commit adultewy.” I ate what I wanted and stopped when I was full. I talked to anyone who would listen; and even some who wouldn’t. I had a million interests and hobbies and I was GREAT at all of them. I could lose a race and still tell you I was the fastest. I “played soccer” when I was 2 (On a team. We had jerseys), but would sit down and cry if I didn’t have the ball (which was most of the time). Despite that I was convinced that I was a VITAL member of the team.
I used to believe the world was a lot friendlier when I was a child, and had changed as I got older. But when I see little children wave and smile and talk to anyone and everyone, I realize that it might be me who changed. Somewhere along the road someone told me I wasn’t good enough. It planted an idea in my head that was reinforced over the years. I wasn’t the best. Some people ran faster, or played the piano better, or were funnier, or more stylish. I learned that making a lame joke will get you ridicule, a bad haircut is basically social death, and that no amount of charm can compensate for acne.
“You are not good enough and you never will be because the standard will always be changing and will always be just out of reach.You Suck.” --Satan (I think that’s a direct quote.)
I let these things beat me down. I forgot I’m a daughter of God and started viewing everything as a competition in which I was either the best or I was nothing. I became cynical and afraid. I wanted to disappear.
I want to undo that.
Have you noticed how babies walk like they’re not quite sure where the ground is? They don’t ever look at their feet, they look to see where they are going and have faith that the ground is there somewhere and their feet will hit it at the proper time. When did we stop looking up when we walk? I know the majority of the time I look down when I walk. I don’t look around me very often. I take steps toward something I want and instead of looking up to see the wonderful life I’m living, I focus on the ugly dirty cement beneath my feet. I don’t look forward to my future, I ruminate on the past and resent the present fact that I’m not sure what my destination looks like, or when I’m going to get there. The future feels so far away that it’s not even worth looking toward.
I want to be more like my toddler self: I was wobbly, but I stuck my belly and my bum out like I was the best thing to walk the earth. I STRUTTED toward my destination with confidence and a big, excited smile on my face. I knew I would be comforted if I fell, and had no doubt that if I kept moving I’d get somewhere pretty cool.
I really want to take on my life with that attitude. I want to stare down the world and Satan and say, as Moses did, “Who art thou? For behold, I am a [daughter] of God.” (Moses 1:13) I have things to do and to look forward to. “Anorexic Camilla” is NOT who God sent me here to be.
“We are all meant to shine as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.” --Nelson Mandela
(I have to admit, I often write things like this when I don’t yet believe them. But I WANT to believe them, and I think I will someday.)