ONCE UPON A TABULA RASA

It would be fascinating if we were able go back in time to childhood to rediscover things we said and thought from as early as we were able to develop our own concepts, based on innocent perceptions.

Children are wise in ways that many adults interpret as gibberish, "imagination" or "What does a child know?"

The term tabula rasa, defined as “an absence of preconceived ideas or predetermined goals; a clean slate” is Latin and literally means "scraped tablet."

Before the proverbial tabula rasa of the child becomes influenced by the world, what does it contain? I like to think of the "blank slate" as an innate consciousness of being one with the Greater Whole.

In one of my earliest childhood memories, I am standing in our kitchen at Baker Street, St Augustine, pulling at a curl of hair at the centre of my hairline. To me it was a zip. I "knew" that if I pulled it down the centre of my body, I could peel off my skin and step out as something bigger that was living inside.

Looking back, I like to think that in my childlike "knowing," I was innocently aware of something bigger – too vast to be understood and contained.

As a child emerges into this life, the world begins to "write" on its vast consciousness, making it aware of the finiteness and limitations of being human.

At some point it must come as a shock if childhood perception of what is possible is squashed into adult boxes, labeled as "just your imagination," "impossible," etc.

Years ago, my parents and an aunt were volunteer readers for a blind woman called Maureen who typed educational content in braille for blind students’ textbooks. On some occasions I also read for Maureen. As I have always been fascinated by the perspective of those who have never had sight, we had many interesting conversations.

Once as we discussed childhood, Maureen told me that she used to love running, playing and climbing trees with other children, never knowing that she was different...until the day her mother called out to her: “Maureen! Don’t climb that tree! It’s dangerous!”

When Maureen asked why, her mother said: “You cannot do what other children do.”

Shocked, little Maureen asked: “Why?”

“Because you are blind.”

As an independent woman and university graduate, Maureen and her seeing-eye dog (the now deceased Patch) were an invincible and impressive pair. Today Maureen lives and works in the US, transcending limitations that were once written onto the tablet of her childhood consciousness.

On my left "Achilles heel" I have my only tattoo – a small circle with a dot in the centre. In my late twenties it was a symbol I inadvertently drew on that spot whenever I had a pen in my hand and was sitting with left leg crossed, foot resting on right knee, ankle exposed. One day about 20 years ago I was driving through St Augustine, saw a tattoo parlour and spontaneously decided to make the symbol permanent.

A short while after, I had my life symbol – committed to the personal meanings it held for me.

The tattoo is a symbol and reminder of the power of being centred in myself; a dot in the centre of the Universe that circles around me, yet is one with me. Just as I sign my name at the corner of a work of art, the symbol is also the Creator’s signature at the base of the work of art that I am. It is also a seed, planted in the "earth" of myself and from it I continually grow like a tree, bearing fruits. It is my circle of constant protection – a tiny but invincible armour over the proverbial "weak spot" (Achilles heel).

In researching the symbol I subsequently discovered that it also represents (among other things) the Sun God (Ra), the Cosmic Spark of Creative Consciousness and is the Swedish Boy Scouts' map symbol for home.

When people ask if I have tattoos and I show them the symbol, some laugh in a “That’s it?” kind of way.

Children are like that tattoo – small and often easily overlooked. Yet they are seeds of great potential and power. Nurtured well, they can become magnificent trees.

In this nation, too many of those "seeds" are stifled, abused, lives cut short before they are able to express their immense life force.

Scrape the tablet and write them a new story.