The Screaming Baby

Emo me is like a screaming baby. And wise me is her mother.

I never had kids. I can see now, I've actually always had a kid -- deep inside myself. I'm my own kid. And I've been screaming for years. Exhausing myself. What to I really need here?

I don't need numbing out. That's for sure.
I don't need entertaining.
I don't need food. I'm not hungry.
I'm not sick either. I don't need medicine or a doctor.

What do I really, really need?

I need someone to look at me and see me. That's all. I just need to be looked at, and seen.

Can wise me do that? Look at emo me, like a parent could look at a child, and see her... give her a sense of existing, mattering, being alright, being safe?

There's been a line of the Desiderata going through my head: You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars, you have a right to be here.

I always loved those words -- I think they might have even been up on our kitchen wall, at Princes St, on a poster. I wanted to be like that. No less than the trees and the stars. But I wasn't. I felt like a nuisance, in the way, expensive, invalid. And underneath all the wonderful things that life has given me, there's still that little cesspool, poisoning things. Not good enough. Not trying hard enough. Who wants to know what you've got to say?

In short, the baby's still screaming.

So. I'm going to look at her, and see her for who she is. I can do that. It's not that hard.

I did the same thing for my secret little addict when I gave up drinking. I gave her attention. I really listened to her demands and needs and fears and concerns. I heard her screaming and whining and bargaining and manipulating. I saw her hurting herself, getting in trouble. Wise me decided to take over that situation and get the booze problem sorted. Not by bashing and blaming and slamming. But by being there, all the time, taking notice and staying calm. It worked.

So wise me can now do a little basic parenting. I have a feeling it's not going to take much. A bit of time and attention. Some kindness, a soft quiet approach to start. I remember babysitting the kids next door. They were both screaming and I started doing ujyyia breath -- ocean sounding breathing -- that I learned in yoga. It only took minutes for the kids to be quiet and calm down -- the breath was infectious. Maybe it's as simple as breathing consciously. No more running away, wishing it would just stop. Wise me just needs to look emo me in the eye and hold her gaze for a while. Look at her with love.

NEXT: That only happens when I write