Standing in My Core, Part 2

Recently my 8-year-old granddaughter and I had a disconnect. We were a little distant before we even got in the car. At Subway (eat fresh), she told me she was going to put some orange in her sprite because she knew I didn't like it. My eyebrows raised and my jaw locked up, and in a tight voice, I said, "Well that's mean!" 

Standing in my core? Nope! Little tears escaped down her cheeks, and she refused to look at me. In silence we got back in the car. She said, "I want to go home." (instead of TaeKwonDo) Silently I turned in the direction of her home. 

Several conscious breaths later, I said, "Do you want to stay in your Little Me or move into your Great
Me?" (A book we had read together when she was small.) She said, "My Great Me, but I don't remember how." Still tears, now of anguish. So I reminded her about breathing out the Little Me and breathing in the Great Me.

I pulled over into a parking lot, stopped the car, put my hand on her leg, and said, "What's up?" Then all her anxiety came flooding out – about going to summer camp, the possibility of moving, and more.Then she said, "Last week, I said the same thing, and you thought it was funny. This time you got mad at me."

I apologized for my Little Me, and we talked about the tone of our relationship last week vs the tone this week – very different. I also told her how I wish I had been with her. I wish I had asked her what she meant by the "orange" comment. I know who she is at her core, and I would speak to her core from my core.

Fifteen minutes later, she was telling the boy next door how she had blown out her Little Me and breathed in her Great Me. He looked confused; she said, "I have a book I'll loan you."

For adults, I have a weekend for you!