Same eyes, different look...

Be still, my little girl...

A few days ago I met my 5-year-old girl again, when I got a picture of me, from that time. I could see my girl, and in my girl I saw all the girls I had to scan in my environment, when we know that we are all different!

I take advantage of this space in this community of reflections, to write to my little girl, who has changed many people today and I am no exception.

I remember my little girl, when you got into the closet, with your little friends to read the hands, like the gypsies, when you trusted and believed that inside that darkness in the closet was the possibility of the universe that one day you were going to explore as an adult.

When you had to eat your food without grumbling, and endure in total silence, because you were always very thin and in your family that was not allowed. Because a lot of times you don't remember much, because it was hard and complicated. I thank you for that and for being my little girl.

I also thank you for enduring that memory, which I imagine still makes a noise in you; when they ran over your little dog Luna,🐕 your pet in that accident and held you responsible.

How many roads have we had to travel together with so many breakups, difficult moments and disagreements. You know that you had to please everyone, to adapt and scan your environment and be able to survive, besides being seen, loved, recognized... Thank you, my little girl, for the wonder of that accomplishment.

Gratitude for getting up early and taking your mom's coffee, so she could hurry up to take me to school. I also thank you my little girl for having cleaned your room so that your mom wouldn't draw your attention.

In this conversation with you, my inner child, I want to make it clear to you that today as an adult I am going to keep everything that you tried hard to learn, but yes, I want you to stop making childish demands on me because we are both old, and I already want to.stop explaining anymore... Wrinkles mean that we have laughed, felt, excited, gray hairs and scars mean that we have the privilege of having aged together, that we have lived.

Thanks to my little girl, who reminds me where the strength of the adult I am comes from. Time knew how to build a beautiful and delicate curved line on our lips, maybe and only maybe because the resonance of words are now audible throughout the known universe.

My little girl, we only have this fragile, brief and precious moment, that minute that slips through our fingers. Such is life, fleeting and urgent, and yet life is capable of being a miracle, and a great gift.

Janitze 🦋