Pretext:
Stories by Giggles seeded during a time when I was most in touch with my intrinsic self and while that has still been the case, I haven’t quite made that extra effort of documenting her journey, adventures and all the ongoing musings.
The last few months have been a whirlwind wherein she has been writing the most that she ever probably has in her life however unfortunately, she hasn’t written for herself, so here I am because she refused to stay silent for any longer – presenting the chatterbox in her truest avatar, in and as herself.
The journey so far has been a relentless race with the Rabbit.
Context: As a child, Rabbit was one of my favourite characters from Alice in Wonderland because he was always in a frenzy, rushing off somewhere, exclaiming how late he is without enjoying where he had gotten to. Rabbit is my reference for time, fleeting swiftly when it’s good or bad. Obviously I am still in love with the Rabbit, except I am in that point of my life right now where I am trying to slow him down, invite him for a teaparty and maybe in a parallel universe, even reverse-race him.
It’s finally the time to slow down, find that extra time and trace my way back to where, why and how Stories By Giggles started - to write simply because I want to write, to express a thought, a musing and without a single care in the world of if this isn’t read by anyone at all.
Let’s go.
The most latest musing that has taken over my mind has been the one with behaviour alteration connected to childhood – and no it isn’t about different sides reserved for different people but one where people slide into who they used to be out of muscle memory, without even realising it.
Reversing into a more timid version. An innocent one. A version that is simply someone that they once upon a time were, even though they might currently be braving a daily fierce face. Sliding right back in to being a child that’s taken care of, or maybe allowing one to be afraid, one that isn’t shy to ask for help or fall down and get back right up, reluctant to fall weak or just be fine feeling frail and vulnerable; in simple words, going back to how they were when they were around someone as a child.
Think about it, really take a moment to take a closer look and observe a different version of an individual you might know inside out around his/her parents, siblings, childhood friends, first-ever employers or anyone from their younger life.
Notice their behavioural quirks around those that activate the shift out of them. For example, when I am around my parents, I still, at the age of 32, feel like an absolute child. It’s almost like the adult version of me goes out of the window and a 5-year old has taken over my body.
Similarly when I am with my childhood friends, a goofily flamboyant version of me that was most prominent as a child or teenager comes out alive as opposed to the ice cool zen exterior that I have been practicing off late. When I further ponder into it, I keep thinking that the people I was afraid of, or intimidated by when I was younger, still somehow have the same effect on me – of course the insecurities aren’t as loud as they were but they are there nonetheless with a side of desire to impress and get their validation.
What does this mean? Are people playing an ongoing game of charades or are they suffering MPDs without realising it? How can you reverse into a version of you without realising it? How can someone from your past unintentionally evoke an altered side of you? How does your mind allow this? Even more, why does your mind, body and innerself reciprocate so fluently?
Side note: Evaluate for yourself - if you were to be put in a wholly new situation as an adult, chances of you remembering the mere details of why, how, when, where, what happened are low by itself, let alone how your mind, body and innerself responds to it if it were to occur years from now, or how your mind would remember it.
Which brings me back to where this thought started from; the behaviourial quirks of people reversing back to a different time and version around the presence of those that have seen them through the years.
Why does the mind process familiarity effortlessly and accordingly respond out of muscle memory?
Why is it that even years after growing up, I refuse to fully embrace the adult that I am?
Why is it that even when I do, I shed that side off at the first chance that I get?
Why is it that the carefree, mischievious child in me takes stubbornly over my experienced adult self?
Why is that version of me more in tune with my instincts?
Why has my adult self matured into a version that is far from being impulsive?
Why does being spontaneous have a different definition now than what it previously did?
Why does it feel more omnious than adventurous?
Why does taking a leap of faith and trusting your gut feel risky?
Why is it that the older you get, the further your risk-taking ability diminuishes?
Why is it that it feels safer to go back to listening to that child?
Why is it that my innerchild always did as it pleased while the adult version seeks for constant advise?
Why did consequences never have my attention back then?
Why have they permanently inhabited my mind now?
Why is it that after all the years of experiences and achievements, a simple childhood episode feels warmer?
Why is it that my mind remembers all the names and faces it learnt back then?
Why is it that I struggle to retain new identities now?
Why is it that my innerself trusts only those that have seen me grow?
Why is it that I find answers easily in the eyes of someone I’ve been familiar to as a child?
Why is it that I can only let loose in front of those eyes?
Why did I not realise this younger, when I was living it at the time?
Why can’t I trust as carelessly as I did?
Why was I chasing adulthood only to realise that they were all right?
Why was I in a rush to speed through those mindless teenage years and get to my twenties and thirties?
Why is it that now that I look back, I realise how treasured each of those moments and all of those years were?
Why is it that I kept hurrying up the Rabbit instead of sitting him down?
Why do I yearn, ever so keenly, to go back?
Back to being an innocent mind with inexperienced eyes, to a simpler place at a careless time?
Why did you listen to me, Rabbit?
Why didn’t you just simply slow down?
Disclaimer: This is by no means a complaint about my present. I am thoroughly satisfied, over-the-moon happy and blissfully content with where the Rabbit has gotten me this far. He has been kind by surrounding me with everything and far more than I could have ever dreamt of wishing for.
This thought has simply evoked from the mere act of going back to a simpler emotion attached to the people that have watched you grow.
Don’t humans change every few years? Don’t they grow? Isn’t it the rule of nature to shed old skin and evolve into new ones? Then how is it, that all it takes is one familiar face, to evoke and bring your behviour back to who you were at that point? How is it that even after years you end up knowing how someone would react and anticipate what they might say before they’ve even done it? How does that familiariaty rope you right into the arms of comfort? Why is it that you only appreciate everything incredible after it has passed you and not in that time? Why is it that we have been running alongside Rabbit, exclaiming that we’re late instead of pausing and just being where we are?
Rabbit, you’ve done extraordinarily well but I request you, for the love of god, I need you to slow down.
I’d like to just pause right here for a neverending teaparty, take in every delicious moment of this version of me and my life where I still have the luxury of a semi-innocent mind, partially experienced eyes in this delightful place at the present time, before you spring right up and pace me forward into the next chapter.
With love and an invitation to a teaparty with the Rabbit for all those that would like to join,
Stories By Giggles