Meeting the inner child and the outer parent

Photo-Richard Heeks

Pain comes up into bubbles...

Bubbles come up into air... 

I have recently realized how much of an "insight" meditation Vipassana meditation really is.

We, the waking spirits, who are no longer deep in slumber, yet not constantly present and in the fullness of now either, have to wonder with our minds- where are these invisible obstacles, what is it that is holding us back, why do we have to fall, can we not just always fly, why do we fall back to the old tracks of behavior, why do we lose patience and peace. It is lovely- to know the peace is longer, the fullness closer at hand, yet where are those hidden magnets- we want to soar at all times, we think we know how! Digging in the psyche it is always the childhood we get back to, the formative years, the upsets of the inner child.

Vipassana shows this in the level of the body, it is wondrous how perfectly the mind and body are aligned. We observe the subtle and oh-so-pleasant free-flow of energy on our body, but just as we get into it- POP! A bubble. The flow of awareness is stopped by a painful hard obstacle. Oh- the unpleasant pain of it to the sensitive mind pinpointed on a single tiny area of matter/energy! The thought of unpleasantness resulting in another instant POP, and soon we are rigid, solid, there is no way for the awareness now, it is again crippled, again stuck in solid matter where it has to cut through with force and move at a speed of a turtle. No more gliding through our own bodies alive and buzzing with its vibratory wave, now transforming into a bulldozer and ramming through as if we are our own obstacle. Perhaps we are.

We have to meet our inner child I feel. The one standing in the corner of our mind, hiding, waiting. The innocent one robbed of their innocence. The one born timeless taught time. The confident being who was shown they are not worthy. The one full of love unloved. The big reduced to tiny, the one who knew oneness and was shown one less. It is the nature of this world to create this abandoned creature. It is the role of the parents to show us the nature of the manifest world of duality.

The roots are dug deep, and we are usually scared to tackle them. It is difficult as well cause of all the coping mechanisms we have built. The deepest fears and pains of the ego- I am not worthy, I am not lovable- these had to have a solution even as a child and to tackle them now as a grown up- is hard. But inevitable. All roads lead to this point I feel. 

And it is a tricky point, it is a deep pit. How many times have I thought I have forgiven my parents. I was so full of the Universe then that everything dissolved, the inner child was at home. But the world and time keeps pushing up. More bubbles. Pop. Pop.

Do we take time to really face our parents? I have met some who have, it has usually been on their death bed, with a few first honest words spoken, and then onto another pain- grieving. 

Can we look eye to eye with them, soul to soul with them? Can we tell them how we felt as a child with no blame, can we take responsibility of our own response mechanisms if those have cost them pain in return? Can we talk to them past the roles that we play, past the huge bulk of hidden and unhidden baggage?

It is not about understanding. I understand perfectly well that my parents did what they knew best, acting from their own hurts and fears, walking on their own path, dealing with their own lessons. At the end of the day I do believe that both the parents and the children have chosen each other. Parents- to widen their own lessons of soul; children to learn a particular lesson of soul which heightens the journey, whether it is abandonment, abuse, absence, clinging, dependence... We chose and we received. There is no blame. The clarity of understanding makes it even more difficult to know exactly how to untangle the roots. How ironic to face meeting the first people we ever glimpsed, felt, touched- last.

There is only one way and it is honest and open communication. With both the inner child and the outer parent. 

The yin and the yang. 

Bubble after bubble, 

Bursting in the air..