By Rebecca Horch, BACYC, CPC

READING TIME: 6 minutes

One of the questions I often ask clients is “Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?” I’m usually asking this when we’re exploring concepts of life purpose and core values. I’m not one who believes that our values have to remain the same as we age or that we all have a singular “life purpose” to find and be one directional about our whole lives. However, I do believe that we all have a uniqueness to us and that if we can connect to it, will inform us in making big life decisions – in how we want to show up in the world, and in how we connect with others. And I think it’s in us from the beginning. It’s not something we have to find, but something we can remember.

As a young kid I loved to explore. I grew up in a small house, or a better word for it is ‘parish,’ beside a big old dusty church that my mother did the housekeeping and maintenance management for. The church gave our family cheap rent in exchange for my moms services. I now know that the amount of work she had to do far outweighed the monthly rental coverage she got and the church was definitely abusing their power, but as a kid I had no idea.

We were not well off as a family. I’d call it “poor” but I balk at that word a little because I didn’t feel it or know it then. In fact, if you would have asked me then, I would tell you that growing up beside that church was pure magic. It was our playground. My sister and I knew every nook and cranny of that place. There were so many hiding spots that were filled with treasures. There were hidden storage areas filled with boxes of old costumes from holiday productions from years before, and hidden doorways behind old panels in the walls. This is how churches were built way back then. There was no such thing as an “open concept” when buildings were constructed back in the 1940s and 50s.

Old churches often had built in baptismal tanks, and this church was no different. It was hidden behind thick red velvet curtains that would open up to reveal a glass tank, two sets of stairs on either side that disappeared behind the stage. I remember on the Sundays when the church would have baptisms, all the congregation would leave after the service was over and it would be up to my mom to empty the tank. But before she did, she would tell us to run home and get our bathing suits on to go for a swim. My mom still has pictures of my sister and I squishing our faces up on the inside of the baptismal tank under the water. We would make a giant mess of the hardwood floor with our cannonballs from the top of the stairs on either side of the tank and my mom would pile towels on top of the water as soon as it hit the floor so as to not cause any damage. There was always a small part of me that knew this was probably against some church rule. Even though I believed God didn’t care and would probably be giggling at our antics, I thought maybe the pastor would have a big problem with it. And that made it so much more fun. The secret of it all. I was always a bit of a troublemaker and the thought of doing something that was “just bad enough” that we could get in a bit of trouble if we got caught, but not “so bad” that it caused anyone serious harm was my comfort zone. It still is if I’m being honest. I’ve always loved to push the boundaries – just a little. 

I LOVED this church…probably for all the “wrong” reasons, but it didn’t matter to me. My imagination could be free in that building. Every time we opened a new storage attic or discovered a hidden room I imagined we were discovering long lost treasure or exploring ancient land. My sister, even though she was older than me, would often be too scared to go into these spaces before I did. I always had to check to make sure nothing too creepy was inside. But I loved to imagine that maybe there was something scary to discover, so going in first was perfect for me. 

In reality, this church playground is probably not nearly as special as I remember it to be. I’ve been in quite a few old dusty churches since then, and although they all have a similar compartmentalized feel, I’ve never experienced the same feeling I had as a kid. I have no interest in bringing reality into these memories though. I want them to remain as they are, experienced as a young child. We moved when I was 9 years old and I’m grateful for that. My memories can be preserved as they are this way. It’s young enough that the angst of adolescents and the reality of critical thought developing in my brain hadn’t hit yet, and old enough that the memories are still as vivid and detailed as ever.
I tell you this story because these are the sorts of memories we can access to begin to discover more about ourselves. Whether it was playing explorer like I did, or playing ‘family,’ or ‘teacher’; pretending you’re the world’s most famous football player or a crime solving detective, we all have something. I have found that asking ourselves what this something is, and really exploring it now, with the same wonder and curiosity we had as kids is actually one of the most powerful things we can do in exploring WHO we are.

As a kid, I loved to explore the unknown. I wasn’t afraid to open doors that hadn’t been opened in years, knowing in my soul that it would be worth it, even if what we found was scary. I’ve always let discovering new things and curiosity guide me. I’ve also always pushed the envelope of other expectations on me, determined and stubborn as I was.  And do you know what is so incredible? I don’t actually see what I do now as so different. I get to help people do this exact thing in their own inner worlds every day. I never stopped exploring, I just found a new way to access this unique gift that was once just my favorite way to play. I still use this quality of myself as a compass in so many things I choose to do, and although things rarely turn out as I imagine them to be, I can know that I’m acting from the most genuine and authentic version of myself which is the me that has always been there. 

So, what about you? What would it be like for you to go inside and remember for yourself? I encourage you to take some time and write it down. Writing is a powerful way to explore your own inner world. Or, if you can’t remember then see if you can find someone to help with that – old friends or family members who knew you as a child. Try to find old pictures to spark your memories. And if all else fails, close your eyes and just ask yourself. I know it seems silly, but see if you can just trust what comes up and go with it for a moment.

As a final *gentle* push, I leave you with these questions to start pondering on to prompt you forward. 

Have fun diving in!

1. Who were you before the world told you who you had to be? 

2. What kinds of things/play did you lose yourself in as a child, or even now?

3. What are QUALITIES of these experiences that you can connect to now in your life? (Example: I loved to play explorer – I see that as a quality of having “deep curiosity”)

4. When you think back on these experiences, how do they make you feel? Notice that fully in your body. What sensations does that feeling emote for you? What other memories does it bring up? 

5. How old were you when you stopped accessing this unique way of exploring the world? 

6. What is one thing you can do today to access that part of yourself, to bring them back into the fold of your life once again?

Be with you soon again soon,

Rebecca