Soleia 0.113
It is important that you don't think I write this just to sound clever or caring. This isn't the show...the spectacle of loving you. I really more than anything want to give you an accounting of who you were before you could remember who you were - Soleia, before Soleia knew what a 'Soleia' was.
So much of what we are and what we think we are, is what is told to us about ourselves by others. It creates this outline that we fill in with our actions and behaviours, our reactions, our fears, our hopes and our dreams. But the outline is sometimes so restrictive that it keeps us from filling out things that others simply don't see.
There is this tension between freedom and structure that exists in the universe. When I tell you something about yourself am I imposing my understanding upon you, limiting your freedom to be what you choose? Or am I simply informing you of something that is actually there, giving you a structure and framework with which to better understand yourself? I honestly don't know - I honestly don't know how much of what people say about us is about us and how much people say about us is about them - a manifestation of their own ego. I don't know when I will do one or the other with you, my darling Soleia. It is for this reason that I want to offer you some naked, agendaless observations of you at a time before you could remember.
As a baby, you were always quick to smile. A period of 10-15 seconds of scanning a new or unfamiliar face and if the person showed any measure of comfort around you, you would smile in reciprocation. If the person holding you was uneasy, you would continue looking at them with the same weariness.
You had difficulty sleeping on your back. You had very strong startle responses and when you would lift your arms as you slept, the falling action of your limbs seemed to convince you that you were in actual freefall. This startled you awake, much to your dissatisfaction and your parents' consternation.
When you woke or were lifted from a sleeping position, your standard response was to scrunch your face, lift your hands to your ears, and curve your back. You'd flex so hard that you'd become rigid in my hands before relaxing into the position that you were being held in.
When you'd awake from deep sleep, you'd cry hysterically, desperately showing your bewilderment and dissatisfaction. But when you'd wake naturally and look up into my face, there'd be a brief moment of confusion on your features as your eyes would adjust before seeing me. And then a moment later, you'd smile and giggle and I would say good morning to you.
You are an observant traveller. Your eyes seldom rest on the person holding you. Instead you regularly scan your environment for features, sounds or change as someone holds you aloft. In observing mode, you are serene. It might be described as inquisitiveness, but at times it seemed as though you were simply very distractable. (Conversely, this makes those moments in the small of night when you break this trend and stare up into my face for minutes at a time all the more humbling and disarming to me. You seem transfixed by me in those moments, a feeling that certainly I share, but I wonder what it is that you are seeing when you look at me.)
You are a philosophical baby. Your mind wanders. In lulls in the action of crawling or playing, you fall into easy moments of contemplation or daydream, often staring up at the ceiling or into the distance. Certainly there are times when you are desperate for the attention of others, but there are also times when, astonishingly, you are content with your own thoughts, your own quiet existence.
Certainly I can't be thought of as a wholly unbiased observer of you, my love. But if the features of the person that I've described and continue to describe in this record is seeded somewhere within you, I hope that knowing how deep they run can serve you to better understand yourself. Because this is something that many people never manage to do.
And you will never be 'many people', my sunshine.
- Papa
It is important that you don't think I write this just to sound clever or caring. This isn't the show...the spectacle of loving you. I really more than anything want to give you an accounting of who you were before you could remember who you were - Soleia, before Soleia knew what a 'Soleia' was.
So much of what we are and what we think we are, is what is told to us about ourselves by others. It creates this outline that we fill in with our actions and behaviours, our reactions, our fears, our hopes and our dreams. But the outline is sometimes so restrictive that it keeps us from filling out things that others simply don't see.
There is this tension between freedom and structure that exists in the universe. When I tell you something about yourself am I imposing my understanding upon you, limiting your freedom to be what you choose? Or am I simply informing you of something that is actually there, giving you a structure and framework with which to better understand yourself? I honestly don't know - I honestly don't know how much of what people say about us is about us and how much people say about us is about them - a manifestation of their own ego. I don't know when I will do one or the other with you, my darling Soleia. It is for this reason that I want to offer you some naked, agendaless observations of you at a time before you could remember.
As a baby, you were always quick to smile. A period of 10-15 seconds of scanning a new or unfamiliar face and if the person showed any measure of comfort around you, you would smile in reciprocation. If the person holding you was uneasy, you would continue looking at them with the same weariness.
You had difficulty sleeping on your back. You had very strong startle responses and when you would lift your arms as you slept, the falling action of your limbs seemed to convince you that you were in actual freefall. This startled you awake, much to your dissatisfaction and your parents' consternation.
When you woke or were lifted from a sleeping position, your standard response was to scrunch your face, lift your hands to your ears, and curve your back. You'd flex so hard that you'd become rigid in my hands before relaxing into the position that you were being held in.
When you'd awake from deep sleep, you'd cry hysterically, desperately showing your bewilderment and dissatisfaction. But when you'd wake naturally and look up into my face, there'd be a brief moment of confusion on your features as your eyes would adjust before seeing me. And then a moment later, you'd smile and giggle and I would say good morning to you.
You are an observant traveller. Your eyes seldom rest on the person holding you. Instead you regularly scan your environment for features, sounds or change as someone holds you aloft. In observing mode, you are serene. It might be described as inquisitiveness, but at times it seemed as though you were simply very distractable. (Conversely, this makes those moments in the small of night when you break this trend and stare up into my face for minutes at a time all the more humbling and disarming to me. You seem transfixed by me in those moments, a feeling that certainly I share, but I wonder what it is that you are seeing when you look at me.)
You are a philosophical baby. Your mind wanders. In lulls in the action of crawling or playing, you fall into easy moments of contemplation or daydream, often staring up at the ceiling or into the distance. Certainly there are times when you are desperate for the attention of others, but there are also times when, astonishingly, you are content with your own thoughts, your own quiet existence.
Certainly I can't be thought of as a wholly unbiased observer of you, my love. But if the features of the person that I've described and continue to describe in this record is seeded somewhere within you, I hope that knowing how deep they run can serve you to better understand yourself. Because this is something that many people never manage to do.
And you will never be 'many people', my sunshine.
- Papa
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