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How Do You Find Your ‘Original Knowing’?
From “Renew The You Who Knew” — Chapter 1
My Grandsons’ Knowing
At three-years-old my grandson has never doubted his own magic.
Last week, I watched him approach a butterfly in the garden with complete confidence that it would land on his outstretched finger, and it did.
He didn’t question whether he was worthy of such communion or analyze the probability of his success. He simply knew, with the certainty that belongs to beings still connected to their essential nature, that wonder was his birthright.
I remember that knowing — my original knowing.
Despite being born into chaos, a home where my mother battled bipolar disorder and my father’s OCD created harsh order and discipline. I once possessed an unshakeable connection to something greater.
At five, I would lie on the grass for hours, feeling the earth pulsing beneath my back, understanding without words that I belonged to something infinitely larger and more beautiful than my small self could comprehend. I talked to trees, and they answered. I created elaborate worlds, from cardboard boxes, and believed absolutely in their reality.
