There is something so charming about a tea party.
During the pandemic, I had time for a long and detailed morning routine, which at one point included a tea party and oracle reading session. After my meditation, I would open all of the windows in my bedroom and sit on the floor with a slice of homemade Victoria sponge cake and a cup of coffee in a vintage orange floral teacup. I would pray openly and invoke my angels, asking for their advice or thoughts as I drew from my Enchanted Blossoms oracle. Some mornings, I felt such a sense of peace and comfort that I was brought to tears. Others, I fretted guiltily over my indulgence. Although it may seem silly, it was a beautiful time of connection with my inner child and an important acknowledgement of the emotions I was experiencing. I felt most like the version of myself that played with a pretend tea set in the acclove behind my grandmother’s couch as a child.
Healing your inner child is a noble thing to do. The process can be painstaking as we are prompted to revisit traumatic scenes in our lives, and to concede the roots of our actions while still holding ourselves accountable. We may have to acknowledge that we deserve to be protected and held after years of creating a façade of strength and nonchalance. We may have to console ourselves, accepting that many of our most volatile moments may never receive an apology.
Dressing these wounds ultimately helps us to make more informed and compassionate decisions from beyond the veil of fear, and the rewards yielded in our emotional affairs, relationships, and worldview are rich. But how can we enjoy or ease this process, and what becomes of our inner children after we have embarked on their healing?
The answer is simple: friendship. Healing your inner child frees you from the limitations and restrictions imposed on you in childhood, but befriending your inner child helps to restore life to full saturation.
I am an avid critique of the “I hate adulting” narrative which currently runs rampant in millennial culture. Partially because it has reached the point in marketability where it has become devoid of any initial notion it may have carried, but primarily because it’s completely optional. The modern conception of adulthood as being overwrought with responsibilities and obligations may hold some validity–but for many of us privileged enough to be able to choose how our time is spent, adulthood doesn’t have to be damning or monotonous. Our individual choices to prioritize work even in our free time, to do only what is expected of us by our predecessors or superiors, or to only “let loose” and enjoy the moment on an occasional night out are not necessarily in the spirit of adulthood and maturation.
As children, we are confined to the timetables and conveniences of the adults around us. You may not have been allowed to play in the rain because you’d get the floors dirty, or not allowed to have cake for breakfast because you’d get a cavity—and because those were liabilities to your parents or caretakers (or because they weren’t typical requests, although I defend that anything can be a breakfast food), the answer was always “no”. As we get older, we reason with ourselves, until even in your own mind the answer is always “no”. Eventually, many of us halt our inquisitions.
Your inner child may be more knowledgeable about this realm than you realize. Many of the intuitive inklings we had in childhood were correct. The assuredness that you possessed in your identity, the curiosity you had about the world around you, all of the things that have since been programmed out of you by well-meaning adults and parental figures—you may have been right the first time around. The distance between our healed inner children and our higher selves is surprisingly narrow, as both of these highly concentrated personifications of our essence contain forgotten or unseen perspectives about living more joyous, creative, and vivacious versions of our lives. Befriending your inner child can help you to tap back into this wealth of intuition and instinct about what you want and what you came here to do.
If you want to start befriending your inner child, express an interest in her interests. Mermaids, bugs, vintage porcelain dolls that are sold almost exclusively at thrift stores and antique malls (I used to prop mine up to scare my little sister). If she loved space, stick glow stars on your ceiling or stay up to watch a meteor shower. If she loved fairies, try a Pixie Hollow marathon. Use these interests to foster a sense of connection to parts of yourself you may have forgotten or disregarded.
From here, begin to tap into that childlike state of inquisition. The magic of the inner child is not in her ability to know all the answers, but to ask all of the right questions. Just for today, suspend your inner refrain of “no, because” and instead, ask “why?”. Why can’t you jump in the puddles? Why can’t you have a dance party on your break? Why do you have to read the news as soon as you wake up if it puts you in a bad mood? Your inner child may help you to see areas of opportunity for greater joy and spontaneity in your life.
Extending this curiosity to the world can also help to saturate your life. Have you ever wondered how the blue morpho butterfly gets its holographic wings? Have you ever wondered why we say “so long” or “alakazam”? These questions may feel random, but the point is to entertain the illogical and to stop making yourself feel silly for wanting to know, or wanting to experience. You are here to know and to learn and to experience, shaming yourself for these natural desires can stifle the greater expression of your divine identity.
Now that you’re asking questions, be sure to consistently check in with the wants of your inner child. Of course, these desires will be tempered with your logical, rational line of thinking, but you may find that some of the seemingly erratic rabbit holes your inner child wants to explore are supremely comforting, inspirational, or satisfying. Honor this part of you by making space in your life for fun and curiosity.
Stay in touch for more prompts on befriending your inner child soon!
Ciao,
Cadence