What Would My Inner Child Do?

“Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them”

 – Saint-Exupéry,The Little Prince

The month of November whooshed by, as it normally does, because for whatever reason the Earth seems to spin much faster at the end of the year. The countdown to Christmas started. Both the weather and my brain are heating up. So much to do, so much to do…

When we are kids the weeks that are leading up to Christmas are filled with wild excitement – the tree will soon be up, fairy lights will be wrapped around it, and the house will become a place where magic lives. We have so much to look forward to – school holidays, piles of presents, pretty wrapping paper, plenty of yummy food that you can stuff yourself with, watching all those Christmas movies on TV…

I remember that my favourite place to be at that time of the year was in our living room at night, all by myself, in the darkness, just watching the lights of the tree glimmer softly, changing colour.

When we grow up Christmas becomes another item on the to-do list. Fairy lights have lost their magic a little bit, putting up with glitter that is spread all around the carpet is annoying, prices of everything go through the roof, and Sydney Fish Markets become a dangerous place to be.  It’s just crazy. We rush to finish so many things, forgetting what this season is all about.

And this is the exact time when I need to refer that boring and stressed adult to my inner child. Because that inner child loves Christmas. Even despite the experience of once being buried under the fully decorated, covered in beautiful baubles, amazingly smelling pine tree that fell on me when I was playing under it. I was five. Maybe the tree was over-decorated on one side, I don’t know. The baubles shattered, my belief in Santa Claus didn’t.

November self-portrait is a reminder I am setting myself for the next few busy weeks. What would my inner child do?

My inner child would have her eyes wide-open in excitement, sitting in darkness watching the Christmas lights. I am taller than the tree now anyway, so I know I am safe even if it decides to attack me again.

Have an easy December and a beautiful Christmas. I am off to dig out my Christmas CDs.

This is me many years ago. A few years before the tree incident. Some of these baubles may not have survived