This was last edited on November 27. I didn’t post it because I got caught up in the work with scribble drawings.
From my journal for Thursday, November 23
When I went out with Mocha it was still sunny, and there was a wonderful sense of newness. I think it was the baby, seeing snow on grass and trees for the first time.
journal for Friday, November 24
I don’t feel like I connected with the baby yesterday. I kept forgetting. Tho I can feel her presence right now and she feels fairly contented. O yes, she likes having a wider world to get to know.
I want to tune into the energy of Baby Jenny and see if I can get any information about what she needs.
Dear One, what do you need?
To play with color and shape.
Too bad, I was hoping for words.
I got out my craypas, and using them in order, red, orange, yellow… I scribbled on the page, sometimes not even looking at Scribble drawing produced a face looking backward.
Uncomfortable with what she sees there. Definitely a woman. Slightly snobbish, perhaps horrified by something she sees that is “out of bounds.” A snobbish society woman looking at her creative daughter and worrying. This one won’t value a place in society, she’s not concerned about status.
That’s right little one. The stuff that matters to your mother doesn’t matter to you. She’s uncomfortable, but you just blaze ahead. Alas, the slightly older Jenny is hurt and scared by her mother’s criticism and closes down her creativity to what is acceptable. You, the youngest one, are angry at the older jenny for holding you back.
journal for Saturday, November 25
I did a sort of scribble drawing yesterday, using the craypas in order: red, orange, yellow… I looked at it and saw a face, so I took it as a message from the baby.
The face reminds me of my mother, who buys into that culture of looking good, where money and social status are important. Against this is my statement “I choose to trust that the Universe is Alive, and intelligent and compassionate, holds us all in love, and wants us to be our true selves.”
On Tuesday, November 28, I tell Erica about my scribble drawings and she says they are a profound practice. “You’re going into a deep place”