Getting it together.

Looking back, the last time I had my act together was just after I was born. 

Then I was at peace with myself and my surroundings, 

Then I had no fears, no worries, no  concerns.

Then I  didn't have to look good, be right, justify myself, wonder what was in it for me,  or worse, what was in for for them?. 

I was trusting and open then, I was  content and I didn't have to defend my actions. 

Then I was just me, whole, perfect and complete. 

Like the scriptural birds of the air, 'I sowed not, neither did I reap yet my heavenly father provided all I needed.'

As time went on though, I learned better.  

For instance , if I woke and mum wasn't there all I had to do was cry and she'd come and pick me up.

And if that's not what I wanted 

I could cry louder and she'd examine my needs more carefully till she discovered exactly what it was I wanted. 

I had power. 

And I learned other things too; 

dogs were scary because they were big and might hurt me, 

If i was good I got special treats, 

if I was funny people laughed. They liked me when I was funny but I wasn't sure about dad. 

I don't think dad liked me. He was never there, and my school teacher was always crabby. 

You can't trust crabby people. Better to keep quiet and out of sight. 

And strangers must be very dangerous. Every one tells you so. I think I'll stay well clear of people I don't know. 

Piece by piece I was building a new reality about who I was and how best to survive in this hostile world. 

A matrix which would set the parameters of what was, and was not possible for me, would define who I was. 

A matrix that, if I stayed within its boundaries would keep me safe. 

Being whole perfect and complete was no longer what I was, but what I might become - in time, if I really worked on it.