Hide & Seek

title image "Hide & Seek" with background of a boy in a pillow fort

Over the weekend, there were seven children in my home. Normally there are three. Or two kids and a surly teenager. I don’t have a large house. It’s a three-bedroom ranch with an unfinished basement, so it was a blessing that the weather was kind enough to us that half the evening was spent with most of the kids running around out in the yard. Later, when dinner was over and the sun had set, there were seven kids in the house. And they decided to play hide and seek.

As they sought each other out in all of the most common hiding places–under desks, in the coat closet, behind doors and in the shower–I remarked to my friend how impressed I was that they found this game so amusing when there really weren’t that many places to hide in here. And they did. They played hide-and-seek for close to an hour. It was indeed impressive. Especially since the bulk of the children are over seven years old, so they don’t quite fit into the smaller spaces they used to.

The thing about children is that they are extremely resourceful. They have unlimited imagination and seemingly bottomless reserves of energy. When they get into the zone of pure unadulterated fun, there is no stopping them. Even when I asked them to clean up the messes they’d made, they did it without skipping a beat and went right back to their game.

For the last couple of days, I’ve been seeking out my own inner child. I knew her well, back when I was on the brink of adulthood. I knew that I didn’t want to lose her as the years went by. I knew even in high school that children are magical in their ability to tap into all the creative energy and the qualities I listed above. I knew that a successful adult life for me must include play and motion. At least, in the back of my mind I knew. Even when life got hard and serious and I forgot to play as much.

And lately, it’s come to the front of my mind how alive I feel when I give myself permission to play and to move. When I draw or paint or talk to myself. When I try something new. When I spend some time dancing freely in my empty house, the free flow of energy helps me connect to that inner child again. It inspires me to sit down and consider the kinds of games that even we adults have access to. There is so much fun to be had, even in a serious life.

Like my house, my body is not large. I wouldn’t imagine that my inner child would have many places to hide in here. What I forget is that my mind and my soul are infinite. Like that same house full of places to hide and friends who dare to seek them everywhere. They overlook that one same spot because someone just emerged from there. In the same way, I think I’ve been overlooking my inner child. 

My therapist asked me about expressing different feelings as a child. I think fear and sadness came up. I remembered how late at night, when I couldn’t sleep, I would sometimes cry. And most of the time, it was due to my deeply felt emotion, perhaps partially due to the hormones of puberty. But sometimes, it was a cry for love. A bid for affection. A cry from deep inside me to feel like no matter how dark my bedroom felt, no matter how far away from my parents or anyone else, to know that someone would hear me eventually and make their way to me.

Before this all came up for me recently, I honestly hadn’t given the behavior very much thought. Now, here was my inner child, still crying in the dark bedroom. Afraid of losing her connection with the people she loves. Playing and laughing by day. Hiding and crying in bed at night.

Our four-year-old friend, playing with the big boys this weekend, found a great spot and hid there. And as soon as the room got quiet and the seeker was on the move, he would start clucking like a chicken. He wanted to play the game, and he needed to make sure that he would be found.

I’m recognizing that my inner child wants to be found and held and to feel like she matters. That no distance is too far for loving arms to reach out and enfold her. She wants to feel safe and supported and connected enough to tell her story and use her voice. She wants to feel rooted enough to take wing and fly.

I don’t know much about the psychology of the inner child. I have no professional experience working with the inner child. What I do know is that our wounding from childhood shapes the adults we become. That the beliefs we adopt and inherit as children evolve into what we believe and behave as adults. My intention to learn to recognize my beliefs and understand my fears has pulled me into a game of hide and seek with my inner child. 

And even though there’s a little girl inside me crying in the dark to be held, this game of hide and seek is invigorating. It’s exciting and dare I say even fun. Personal growth is impressive because no matter how much self discovery you’ve done, there is always more to find. Sometimes in the same spots you’ve looked a hundred different times before.

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