Sometimes, for my own sanity, I have to rediscover my inner child.
There are still glimpses of her cheeky spirit, pure joy and exuberant, vivacious zest for life somewhere within my eyes and smile that always defy my attempts to conceal my inner thoughts and feelings (no matter how hard I try to suppress my true feelings).
Often times, my inner child is invisible. She must sit still, bite her tongue and be good, in situations where she wants to dance, sing, tell a joke, or just climb a tree.
My inner child feels sad and forgotten when the seriousness of adulthood takes over. She longs for truth, honesty, goodness and uncomplicated times as well as unreserved laughter and immaturity.
My inner child misses the practical jokes, goofiness and innocence of my childhood. She has a pure, trusting heart, untarnished by life experience and heartbreak.
She is shackled and her wings are clipped thanks to the expectations of the adult world and the fear that her innocence will be corrupted and broken by the adult world. Lying in dormant, she awaits her opportunity to reveal herself.
If we could all see the world through the eyes of our inner child, we would see magic in everything.