Dear Me,

Oh how I wish we could be two at once –
fully embodied at the same time.
How I’d love to be your friend, your playmate, your confidant.
How’d I’d love to laugh and play with you.
My sides ache just imagining how we’d crack each other up,
how we’d sit and talk for hours.

If we could be two at once,
I’d always listen when you wanted to talk,
and tell you what I think only when you wanted to know.

I’d encourage all your fanciful thoughts and dreams and visions and yes, even your silly inventions for how to open your dresser and get clothes to dress without ever leaving your bed on a cold winter morning.

If we could be two at once,
I’d hold the pillow over your ears when voice on the other side of the door got loud and it made you feel sick and scared and lonely.
I’d lay beside you and try to find a way to distract you until all things quieted.
I’d sleep in the bed across your room, and wrap my arms around half your stuffed animals so there’d still be room in your bed for you and no-one would feel left out.

If we could be two at once…

But we can’t.
So the best I can do dear self, is to tell you that I love you.
And encourage you to remember all that you know right now – in this minute.
It’s not what we don’t or didn’t know that would change things our lives for the better, but remembering what we forgot.

Pay attention.
Learn.
Laugh.
Play.

There is nothing you need to know that you don’t in each moment as it arises.
Be still. Listen. That’s all.

You are all the ‘magic’ you need – all the ‘magic’ there is.

How I wish we were two at on this end.
I sure could use you right about now.