Healing the Inner Child: Final Episode

A New Cycle from the Past

“Okay, sure! But I haven’t been active at all lately. I’m not sure I’ll be much help.”

“No worries, no worries! If you’re coming, it’ll be a huge boost for us. Everyone will be thrilled!”

The cheerful voice on the speakerphone belonged to the captain of my high school baseball team.

Apparently, their weekend casual baseball game was short on players, and they’d asked me to fill in.

“Got it. I’ve got plans in the afternoon, but as long as it wraps up in the morning, I’m fine. I’ll be at the field by 9!”

After securing my promise, my friend sighed with relief and ended the call with a “Thanks a lot!”

Baseball—how long had it been? Even so, I felt a rush of excitement as I instinctively started searching for my glove. “Where did I put it?”

As I rummaged around, memories of a recent conversation with Okane-san surfaced in my mind. The inner child exercise we had done—those childhood feelings and images began to overlap. The sensation of searching for my glove now felt so familiar, like the yearning I had for it back then. A mix of emotions surged within me as I reached into the depths of the closet.

Finally, I found it. Grabbing hold of the glove, I felt words naturally rise from my heart.

“Thanks for holding out back then.”

The words came out honestly, from deep within.

This glove had been a gift from my girlfriend a few years ago when we were still newly dating. Back then, I wasn’t playing baseball very often, but when she’d asked, “What do you want for your birthday?” the words had come out without thinking.

“I’d like a baseball glove.”

She’d been a little surprised at first but then smiled brightly. “Nice choice! Let’s find the perfect one together!” I can still clearly remember how eagerly she helped me pick it out.

Holding the glove now, the memory of that conversation came back vividly. Suddenly, I realized something. The words “I’d like a baseball glove” might have been a voice from my inner child, yearning for something I had always wanted but never had. It felt as if a long-held wish had finally been fulfilled.

This glove, chosen by her with such warmth, filled me with a quiet gratitude that spread through my chest.

On game day, standing on the field after such a long time, I relished the simple joy of moving my body again. We lost the game, but laughing and playing with everyone brought back a nostalgia I hadn’t felt in years.

Afterward, as I climbed into the car, my whole body ached. Playing seriously—even in a casual game—had left me thoroughly worn out. I wanted to head straight to a spa and relax, but I had plans to visit my family with my girlfriend that afternoon to deliver the Mother’s Day gift we had picked out earlier.

As we drove to my parents’ house, she sat in the passenger seat, cheerfully chatting.

“She’s going to love this, don’t you think?”

Her carefree smile was infectious. Glancing at her, I felt a warmth that seemed to ease my physical exhaustion. Her bright voice lightened both my heart and my body.

When we arrived, we were greeted by my brother’s family as well. His fifth-grade daughter and second-grade son were there, their energy filling the room. The youngest, especially, had endless energy, and I often struggled to keep up. As soon as he saw me, his face lit up, and he ran over with a big grin.

“Let’s play baseball!”

With a voice so full of joy, how could I refuse? His smile alone was enough to spur me on, even as my aching body resisted.

After our game, my body was completely spent, but a pleasant fatigue remained. Watching his radiant smile reminded me of my own childhood days, playing baseball with abandon. Back then, I dreamed of having my very own glove and spent countless days covered in dirt chasing after balls—memories that began to resurface as I played with my nephew.

Later, during dinner with the whole family, my girlfriend presented the Mother’s Day gift.

“This is for you. I heard you love art!”

Her gentle voice softened the atmosphere around the table.

When my mom opened the package to find an art set, her face lit up with delight.

“Thank you so much. I’ve always wanted to paint, but I just never found the time. I’m so happy!”

Her heartfelt words touched me deeply.

Afterward, my girlfriend described how much effort had gone into choosing the gift, sharing details of our process. My mom’s expression softened as she listened, and there was a quiet, warm glow in her eyes as she looked at me.

“Actually,” my mom began, “when I was a child, I asked Grandma for a set of paints. But she said no. After that, I always wanted to try painting, but time just slipped away, and here I am. That was over 50 years ago now!”

She laughed, trying to lighten the mood, but her mention of “childhood” struck a chord deep in my heart. It was just like my own childhood. Perhaps my mom, too, carried an unhealed inner child. The feelings that had surfaced during my session with Okane-san seemed to align with my mom’s story, intertwining quietly in my heart.

On the drive home, the car was filled with a serene silence. Exhausted from being so considerate to everyone, my girlfriend had fallen asleep beside me, her soft breathing adding to the peace. Glancing at her, I found myself recalling my conversations with Okane-san.

Energy circulation… At work, I learned that trust was the key. And now, through reconnecting with my past, something else had started flowing within me. Though I couldn’t quite define it, I felt a gentle warmth, akin to gratitude, spreading through my chest.

A few months later, my girlfriend called me excitedly.

“Hey, guess what! Your mom won a prize in the city art contest!”

She explained that her artwork had caught the eye of one of the judges, leading to a small job offer. Mom was thrilled and considering creating more art in the future.

“She’s so happy! She said she wants to keep painting!”

Hearing my girlfriend’s delighted voice, I could picture my mom’s beaming smile. Unexpected events had unfolded, but they seemed to echo what Okane-san had once told me: “Energy circulation starts with you.” Someone’s joy can spark a new flow that spreads outward.

That afternoon, I found myself at the baseball glove section of a sporting goods store. Looking at the gloves on display, I suddenly recalled another of Okane-san’s words.

“Facing your inner child means taking care of your present self too.”

Calling over a store clerk, I asked questions about size and material. Picking up each glove, I was reminded of my childhood dreams—those long-ago days when I wished for a glove of my own.

When I finally chose a glove, a gentle warmth filled my chest. The sensation led me to quietly murmur,

“I won’t overthink it today. Let’s decide quickly.”

This glove was a birthday gift for my nephew, but it also felt like a gift to my younger self—a part of me smiling back through time.

“I hope he loves it.”

With those words, my steps toward the register felt light. Holding the glove, I felt a connection to my past and a step forward into a new chapter.

To be continued in Chapter 5.