Creativity of the soul

When I was a kid, creative ideas, images, words just flow though me. Freely on the wall of our apartment, in the essay that I wrote, and through the manifestation of my songs , dance, and play. The joy and freedom I experienced was delicious. And life, despite all the outside circumstances of the environment, was truly magical.

It was a lovely, wonderful time. Before I began to internalize all the judgments from others. The judgments I hear from parents, older siblings, teachers, and the world at large. “No, you can’t do that. “, “Stop drawing on the wall.” , or the despised look I saw on teachers’ faces when they looked at the art I created. The not-so-good grades of my drawings. And the little heart sinking moments when my 6-year-old self realized that my drawings are not good enough for the teachers, that they never chose mine to post on the wall in the classroom.

All these little stings adds up. And I was a very sensitive child. It hurts to feel that the world disapprove of me, of my creativity. For this creative sparks was my soul speaking. It was soul language, raw and intimate. Gradually I learnt to hide this side of myself from others, I only sing and dance when no one was around. I stopped drawing, for many years. I just thought that I was not artistic at all. All these nay saying, disapproved looks, and spoken or unspoken judgment from others. I have internalized them. And this is perhaps the monsters I face every time I wanted to write.

Whether it is an academic paper for school, or the writing projects that I have in my mind. I feel this inner resistance when approaching the task. More so for academic papers, because I know for sure that my writing will be judged. These resistance feelings are hard to describe. But I could feel my own body dragging. It was a real inertia I feel. My own being hesitated. As if my heart is saying, is it really safe to put myself out there again?

I wish to share with the world, with the professors that the words coming from my soul are sacred. And they needed to be treated with gentleness. Constructive feedbacks are, of course, welcome. But I could feel you, when you are judging me. For not being good enough, for my grammar mistakes.

It’s true. My writing tends to not follow perfect grammar. I can’t help it. As when I write I am integrating lots of energies, feelings, and thoughts in my fingertips. And they just come out the way that they do. Perhaps this is why there’s a profession called the editors?

How I long for a safe space where I can just dance, move, and let my soul speak freely. For I know that she has a lot to say. And there’s endless treasure in the realm of imagination.

After years of feeling this hurt and being minimized. Because I was somehow not good enough in some people’s eyes. Or perhaps they think it is their right, or nature to judge anyone that’s different that them. I finally realize that it is completely fine. The way that I write, freely from my heart, from my soul. I don’t have to be everything, for everybody. I just have to be me.

Today I want to tell my self, my soul, my heart that it is okay to write, to draw, to dance, to feel. To express what I wanted to express. To share whatever I wanted to share. I want to let my inner child know that she is, and has always been good enough. That it is safe to be, and I will protect her. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, and energetically.

And I wish for a world more gentle. When we hear others’ ideas, read others’ words, witnessed others’ play. Whether they are children or adults, whether or not we understand their work. I wish that we can all be more gentle with our words, our reactions, our facial expressions, and the energy we give out. I wish that we can remember that creativity is a vulnerable process, and needed to be treated with care and respect. And I wish that when we do have to give feedback, we choose our words kindly.

The world evolves through creativity. It is because of someone’s imagination that I can type on my laptop and share my thoughts on this website, with anyone who has access to the internet. Perhaps if we can all be more gentle and loving towards each other, and appreciate all our uniqueness in manifestations. We can evolve together, towards love. Where more and more souls can feel safe enough to express themselves through the platform they so choose.

Alone in the Underworld – Working with the Inner Child through Dream Interpretation

Alone in the underworld 

I was in a dark, gloomy basement, all by myself. 

I looked up, and saw this little opening space on the ceiling.

A glimpse of the twinkling light.

In the unknown space above.

I wanted to get up there,

And I saw, this old wooden ladder

A wooden ladder I could use to climb up and get out of this dark place.

The ladder was shaky, and the spikes on the wood hurt my hands

I kept climbing, and when I was half away there,

I looked down.

And I saw, a little girl, perhaps around five years old.

Sitting on the floor, under the triangular space contained by the ladder.

All by herself.

Shiny black hair, in a bowl cut.

She was cute.

She didn’t seem to notice me, or anything else in the world.

She was playing with a stuffed animal, quietly.

But all of a sudden, this shaky wooden ladder collapsed.

Huge broken pieces of wood fell right onto her,

Piercing into her little body,

She was broken, covered with shattered wood and blood.

Yet she was still calm, serene,and quiet,

As if it didn’t bother her.

She continued playing.

All alone.


This is a dream I had seven years ago, right before I began my journey in pursuing a masters degree in counseling, on becoming a therapist. It was a vivid dream, the imageries sharp, the sensations real, the emotions raw. 

I didn’t know about working with dreams then, I was just beginning my journey of self discovery, of healing ,and uncovering the secrets of who I am. But I knew this dream was significant, it came as a message, as a guide.

I brought this dream up again and again, to my therapist at that time, to friends, with mentors. Somehow it just wouldn’t escape my mind, and I kept trying to uncover its meaning.

But it wasn’t until three years later, when I was sitting in one of the classrooms at IONS – Institute of Noetic Science. When the space, the ceiling, the light twinkling above triggered an intense felt sense of being in that basement again. I was stunned.  I felt as if I was in the dream, again. My consciousness was a bit hazy as I was not so sure what kind of consciousness I was in – was I awake or was I in a dream? Nevertheless, my weirdness somehow caught the attention of the professor, and he made an interpretation.

Suddenly, everything clicked. When the meaning of a dream finally revealed itself  – when everything in your life and space magically lined up – it felt , as if being washed by this tranquil, healing ether that came upon me, passing through my body, cleansing my aura and attuned me to a better understanding – of myself, my past, and my path. 

We all have a child self, living inside our heart.

Over the years, we might have forgotten this little one.

As we’ve been so caught up in the world of grown up.

To be successful, to be attractive, to abide by a certain social standard.

We might have even been told not to play anymore. 

We lost touch of the preciousness of our soul.

In the process of becoming someone, we lost touch of who we are.

The process of reconnecting with our inner child, is precious and beautiful.

As we descended into the space in our psyche, to be with this child.

This child that we once was.

We re-create a connection, and hold space for healing to happen, if he or she was somehow broken.

Our love to ourselves expand as we tend to the broken pieces of our heart, gently, patiently. 

Until we become one, again. 












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