I am trying to decide which images best represent those early years. I find myself looking into everyone’s eyes–all full of love and innocence.
But I see something else when I look into my childhood eyes.
Usually, I assign an adult mind and motives to the self I was at six or seven years old. It skews memories, maybe even hides some. Mostly, it assigns judgment but as an observer, my perspective is open.
I look with love and find it anew in each scene. Not reliving but observing only what is in the photograph. I spend hours.
I feel completely present in these captured moments of my life. I’m not so much aware of thought as I am aware of the child’s eyes, and the look on her face. She is confident. I don’t think she knows any differently. It makes me smile.
In myriad ways, I will keep that confidence. I will not always use it wisely, especially when I equate confidence with control. Sometimes, I will claim it when I feel nothing at all.
In my 65th year, I am grateful for my six-year-old self. She has brought me to this moment and will take me into what comes next.