Looking Into the Eyes of Childhood

In preparation for our mother’s memorial service, I am scanning photographs. It has been some time since I opened these albums. In fact, I cannot remember the last time I looked.

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.

In some of these photos, I am 60+ years older than the child I see. In looking into her eyes, there is no rush of memory. There is only the scene in front of me, an individual image.

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 65^th 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.

Aim for Even posts offer equanimity a dose at a time. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.