calling (a collective poem from our youngest wisest selves)

Two weeks ago we gathered on what the United States calls “memorial day” to remember our child selves, to love up on our vulnerable genius and to be curious together about what our youngest wisest selves are teaching and asking of us right now. More than 100 people participated in the “I Love Your Face” writing workshop to kick off Inner Child Summer School and for me it was a dream come true. We looked in the mirror, we looked at pictures of ourselves from childhood, we created a loving reflective space and a technology called reparative return to love ourselves in ways we have always wanted to be loved but just now became ready to offer ourselves and each other. I am still radiating with gratitude for the bravery, generosity and brilliance of everyone who participated. At the end of our time together we created a group poem to affirm the world our child selves are calling into being through our lives today. We invite you into that world and encourage you to read this poem aloud if you can!

P.S. You can still sign up for Inner Child Summer School right here and get the full recording of the workshop and many more activities and guided prompts from me.

Calling

By the participants in the “I Love Your Face” Writing Workshop for your Youngest Wisest Self

“the world you called by being you”

         -from love poem to snow angel space cadet by Alexis Pauline Gumbs

we are calling a world of love

we are calling a word of warm violet love

we are calling a world of soft-threaded blankets

we are calling a world of joy

we are calling a world of sun-soaked joy
we are calling a world of genderqueer joy

we are calling a world of light

we are calling a world of bright hearts
we are calling a world of unabashed enthusiasm

we are calling a world of unafraid ease
we are calling a world of arms flung wide
we are calling a world of loving embrace

we are calling a world of time travel

we are calling a world of play

we are calling a world of souls in free flight

we are calling a world of healing

we are calling a world of playful healing

we are calling a world of brave healing

we are calling a world of tiny dimple cheeks

we are calling a world of unlimited cuddles

we are calling a world of fierce determined toddlers

we are calling a world of revolutionary mothering

we are calling a world of transformation

we are calling a world of transformation

we are calling a world of refusal

we are calling a world of seeking to know

we are calling a world of repair

we are calling a world of seeing

we are calling a world of seeing ourselves without judgment

we are calling a world of rhymzomatic connection

we are calling a world of free and happy

we are calling a world of feet, bared

we are calling a world of bare soles

we are calling a world of wildness

we are calling a world of beauty

we are calling a world of green

we are calling a world of rest

we are calling a world of warm gold days

we are calling a world of seasons and sunrises

we are calling a world of turquoise and indigo

we are calling a world of interconnections

we are calling a world of interdependence

we are calling a world of siblinghood

we are calling a world of compassion

we are calling a world of understanding

we are calling a world of loving our “flaws”

we are calling a world of learning from the small creatures

we are calling a world of escapes from the mundane

we are calling a world of holding ourselves in our most vulnerable tenderness

we are calling a world of remembering the way home

we are calling a world of abundant love for all of us and all parts of us

we are calling a love that spills over into the space around

we are calling a world of trusting our intuition and the love of the universe

we are calling a world of complex beauty

we are calling a world of letting folk simply to be whatever however that be shows up

we are calling a world of grieving ecstatically and making space for our erotic power

we are calling a world of courageous, vulnerable, bare-faced, open hearts

we are calling a world of hands in the dirt, days stamped with love

we are calling a world of squirrel friends

we are calling a world of intuitive loving

we are calling a world of goofy, almost nonsensical love

we are calling a world of unabashed, unashamed joy,

so deep the light shines from our bones

and the trees inhale our exhaled relief