I must've been about six or seven years old when I got the clever idea one afternoon during the summer to bake up some tasty morsels and go sell them door to door in my small neighborhood in Lake Orion, Michigan.
I vividly remember taking a box of cereal—Fruity Pebbles, I believe—and pouring some out into a large bowl and adding in some flour, eggs, milk, sugar, salt and perhaps a couple of other tidbits (nothing measured, of course). I had seen my mom use those ingredients when baking up something delicious for us, so I decided to throw them all together into a homogenous mass, then “bake it off" in the microwave until set.
You can most likely imagine the taste of the concoction I cooked up, and I say “cooked up” loosely.
And even though it did, in fact, taste a little strange, even to me (and nothing like how mom's tasted when she baked something for us), I thought it had potential, and was worthy of being shared—worthy of being cut up into small squares, and placed onto a nice, fancy paper plate, all neat and pretty-like, and offered to my neighbors for a quarter a pop.
And so off I went.
...when we're young, we create and offer up to the world from a pure, unadulterated place, a place where only “flow” is present...
I knocked on all my neighbors doors who I knew well, and when they would open their door, they'd smile when they saw little old me standing there.
Holding out my little paper plate proudly, I'd ask, “Would you like to buy one of my dessert treats? They're twenty-five cents each!”
And bless their hearts, just about every single one of them not only bought one from me, but smiled and oohed and aahed in support of my (unbeknownst to me) apparent entrepreneurial spirit at that tender young age.
Ah, how sweet they were... how generous in their quiet encouragement...
Looking back at that funny little experience, it is apparent to me that all that little girl wanted to do was to find out if she had what it took to take what was inside of her out to the public; to see if what she had to offer up, from her heart and her soul, would stick; to see if her intention and her desire, her love, could find a home in the heart of others.
And that day, she found out that the answer to all of those wonderments was “yes”. And it made a subtle and quiet impact on me in ways I would only fully and consciously understand as the grown woman that I am today.
That silly, rather forgettable experience in my life became anything but forgettable. It has stuck with me all these years, and I think of it quite often, especially these days as I, once again, find myself navigating this offering-up-my-insides-to-others business, seeing if there is a place for what I, personally, bring to the table these days.
And when I'm uncertain, and not so sure-footed, and the doubt sets in, there is a part of me that wants to ask, “Hey, where'd that little girl go?” But I already know the answer to that: she's right here.
She never left.
She's still wanting to play, to create, and to make believe; she still longs to see if what she churns out from deep within her being has value to others.
She still longs to mix all sorts of “ingredients” together to see what happens when she does that; and she still longs to find out if what she turns out and shares has a place in this world—if anyone will “buy” what she's selling.
It matters to me that what has been given to me is properly sowed, and is of benefit to someone else.
When we're very young, it doesn't even occur to us that we may not be accepted—we don't have those considerations. And so we go forward with gusto and vigor in all endeavors expecting the best.
The reason is that when we're young, we create and offer up to the world from a pure, unadulterated place, a place where only “flow” is present, and not the voice of doubt or the five million reasons why something can't possibly work, why we shouldn't be accepted.
And that's the place I'd like to get back to these days as a grown woman.
I want to create and offer up out a space of freedom and boldness, out of a place of enthusiasm for seeing if what I uniquely bring to the table resonates with others out there.
See, that little girl had boldness and a healthy image of who she was; and I'm looking to own that inheritance fully, once again, as my life unfolds now and I long to share more and more.
I stand in a place where I feel pulled to do more, to offer more.
It matters to me that what has been given to me is properly sowed, and is of benefit to someone else.
All that little girl wanted, quite simply, was connection. And I can see that's all this woman longs for as well.
So if I feel myself waiver and grow low on courage, if I find myself wanting to ask, “Hey, where'd that little girl go?”, the hope is to remember she is right here inside of me, still a part of me, wanting out, wanting to share, wanting to play and to create, to see if what she has “sticks”.
Taste what's good and pass it on.
Ingrid
“From The Heart” is a space for me to share some of my more personal thoughts on life. Here you'll find my reflections on my own inner/spiritual journey; on being a wife and mother; on being a creative; and general observations, pretty much whatever is on my mind.
I whole-heartedly believe that sharing 'from the heart' with one another is what connects us, heals us, and inspires us! Glad you're here...
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