the true you

i've been on an old-home-videos-kick ever since my dad converted tons of footage from when i was a little kid onto DVDs. i've been spending far too many late nights with the television glow pulsating against the bedroom walls, refusing to shut my eyes and end my peek into a long forgotten past. the thing is, i'm hooked to what my two-year-old-self is revealing to my twenty-one-year-old-self.

behind my two-year-old blond frizzy ringlets, in my deep brown eyes and quiet concentration, i see a self who slowly reflects on the world around her, and shares only her most processed thoughts (save the silly ones--she loves to share those). as my two-year-old-self rips the paper off a big christmas gift box, and proceeds to get excited about all the things she could use the box for, rather than the kitchen that's inside of it, i see a self exploding with imaginative thoughts and dreams unavailable in a tangible world. as i lay on the couch and my 5-year-old-brother explains to me that "Y" is for "yolk" and i unashamedly ask "what's yolk?" four times before i finally comprehend, i see a self full of curiosity, humility and eagerness to learn. a self so willing to be taught.

as i watch my two-year-old-self pounce, ponder, play, and pout, i watch with a feeling of pure, accepting love. look at that beautiful child, i think. look at her being HER, i giggle. what a joy. what a gift to be 2 years old and not yet weathered enough to reflect on flaws and shortcomings. to feel not enough.

i'm hooked to these videos because of the chance they give me to love again. to re-live unashamed curiosity, wild imagination and quiet concentration without judgement and without fear, but with complete adoration and acceptance.

look at that girl, i think to myself. the true you. i love her. and i know in the most honest and brave parts of my heart, that the love i feel for my two-year-old-self is the same love i can harvest for myself today.