There's something really powerful about the imagination. About conjuring up stories and ideas that seem out of this world and bringing them to life.
Last week I came across this piece of artwork while looking through old scrapbooks. A piece of paper I hadn't seen or touched since it's creation. I was hit with nostalgia that was new to me. I could never recall much of my younger years before but one minute holding this piece of paper had me close to tears.
Those little-6-year-old-hands pressed firmly down, intent on making their mark. A moment in time captured by purple paint.
I closed my eyes and it felt like she was there with me. And she was. She was always with me but years and years of grown up talk convinced me otherwise.
If the little you stood right beside you and looked up to catch your attention, would you see them? If so, would you say the things you say about yourself as loud? Would you believe those things?