My inner-child wants me to reclaim her. For the last six months she’s been trying to break-free from a time-out I subconsciously imposed. I guess I was keeping her hidden to protect her sensitive little spirit, and lost track of the years. But with my inner-child out of sight and out of mind, I was simply going through the motions of living. And without that playful, vulnerable and fearless little dreamer by my side, my life’s choices became shaped by feelings of lack, past hurts and rejection.

In 2022 I will connect with my INNER-CHILD whose been buried beneath extreme adulting. She’s itching to crawl out of her dark hiding space to get curious about the world again, explore her creativity, and discover new social hobbies. I miss “Keex”, the infinitely more fun, loquacious, and physically expressive version of myself. Right now I feel like a boring old fuddy-duddy. To me, reconnecting with my inner-child means temporarily detaching myself from expectations, responsibilities, and accomplishments. It’s about exploring the depths of my personality and the spectrum of possibility.

PLAY! That’s it. That’s my theme word for 2022. Why? Because Covid has turned me into a middle-aged recluse who’s grown quite content in the bubble of her diminutive NYC apartment. Becoming a couch-potato in overpriced athleisure-wear has become my default mode, despite my inner-child’s guttural scream, “Let me ouuut!”