“Dear Little One, did you say your prayers yet?”
“Not yet Mama.”
“Well, out of bed you go and down on your knees, bow you head, eyes closed Dear Little One.”
“Okay, Mama… Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, If I die before I wake, I pray to God my soul to take.”
“Mama?”
“Yes, Dear Little One?”
“Am I going to die tonight? I am scared. If the monsters under the bed don’t get me, the demons in the closet might. I am afraid Mama. I don’t want to die before I wake. I don’t even want to close my eyes now!”
“Oh Dear Little One. Let me sing you a lullaby. Would that help?”
“I think so Mama.”
“Very well, Rock a bye baby, on the tree tops, when the wind blows, the cradle will rock, when the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, and down will come baby, cradle and all.”
“Mama? What the fuck? You are telling me I am way up high on a tree and I am going to crash to the ground? And, that is going to help with my current anxiety about death?”
“Oh my Dear Little One who has suddenly developed quite the potty mouth, I guess you have a point though.”
“Do you have any more ideas to help me with this existential crisis I am going through tonight all because of that prayer and now complicated by that gawd awful lullaby?”
“Well how about a simple children’s nursery rhyme? Uh lets see, Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water, Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after… Whoops, sorry, okay how about this one London Bridge is falling down, falling down… Oh, my bad… Okay, here we go, Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall….”
“Mother, are you a sicko?”
“Okay, okay, I got one… Three blind mice, three blind mice, see how they run, see how they run, they all ran after the farmer’s wife, who cut off their tails with a butcher’s knife…. Oh shit,…”
“Oh Dear Little One.”
“Yes, Mama?”
“You’re screwed.”
“Yes, I kind of figured that out, Mama”
“I’ll leave the light on for you Dear Little One.”
“Good, The monsters don’t like the light. Night Mama.”
“Nighty night Dear Little One. Hey, tomorrow night maybe I’ll tell you the one about three men in a tub.”
Hahaha hahaha, very funny. Looks like someone’s going to have a rough night.
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Funny thing is, lately when I try to meditate, contemplate, pray, be still, breathing, whatever it is called, I have been getting this feeling like hands are on my throat. Real anxious. Very uncomfortable. I found that writing helps to release it.
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I’m so sorry you’re experiencing such a challenge, it appears in my opinion, that writing feels good and relaxes you.
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😀 Hehe, yeah, children’s cautionary tales were meant to scare them into submission! Grimm’s fairy tales? Yikes!
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As a child, we had this book with a cute picture of a goose dressed up like an old woman complete with eye wear and a bonnet. Inside were stories of despair and destruction and deviant behavior.
And, I was taught to say that prayer every night as a very young child. One day, I thought, “Whoa, what’s going on here?”
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