I was sitting on the side of a swimming pool, kicking my feet in the water because that’s what the other kids were doing. I don’t know if I was on the other side of the pool from the other kids or if it just felt that way. It was my older brother Rob’s birthday. I was probably three years old and Rob was a year older. Rob was over there with his friends and they were happily kicking their feet in the water together. They were laughing and talking. The adults were with them, my Mom hovering benevolently and smiling.
I was alone in a private space inside myself watching. Interestingly, this space inside myself was quiet and somewhat spacious. In fact, it was like a nice landscape that I could hang out in. But at that moment I wanted to be a part of what was happening and wondered why I wasn’t. I felt I was different than them and that maybe there was something wrong with me that made them not want to include me. These feelings built up until I was in a subtle agony of separation that was to become a major theme in my life. My nice inner landscape was slipping away.
