The Transformative Power of Gratitude and Trust: Episode 4

Connecting the Past and Future—Healing the Inner Child

“Let’s play catch!”

A lively voice echoes from the back of the waiting room.

Turning around, I see my nephew running toward me, his face beaming with joy. In his small hands, he clutches a well-loved baseball glove. Watching his excitement as he bounds toward me, I feel a gentle warmth spread in my chest.

His innocent enthusiasm reminds me of my younger self.

“Not right now,” his father says, gently explaining.

The light in my nephew’s eyes dims slightly.

“Maybe later,” I say, offering a reassuring smile.

After a brief moment of thought, he brightens up again. “Promise?” he asks, before dashing off once more.

Watching him go, I exhale softly.

—Was I ever this honest with my feelings when I was young?

Through my conversations with Okane-san, I learned about the concept of the “Inner Child.”

“The Inner Child,” Okane-san explained, “is the child version of yourself that still lives within you. The joy, sadness, and emotions from your past—especially those that were never fully processed—take shape in this part of you.”

When I first heard this, memories came flooding back.

So much of my current behavior and thinking are influenced by my past experiences. It’s like a program that was written long ago—one that keeps running on autopilot, repeating the same patterns over and over.

—But what if I could rewrite that program?

Maybe, by facing my Inner Child, I could change things.

As this thought lingers, a vivid memory resurfaces.

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I was in elementary school, clutching my New Year’s gift money tightly as I walked into an electronics store in the city.

For some reason, I felt a special bond with two classmates I wasn’t particularly close with before. They were fascinated by a new computer-like gaming console, and soon, I found myself drawn to it too.

—This could open up a whole new world, something beyond ordinary video games.

With growing excitement, I purchased it.

I still remember the thrill of opening the box at home, the anticipation crackling in the air. There’s a unique joy in unwrapping something new—perhaps that feeling originated from this very moment.

But my excitement didn’t last long.

That evening, my father came home and saw the game console.

His face clouded over. “Why did you spend your money on this?”

My mind went blank.

—Wasn’t he supposed to be happy for me?

Confused and taken aback, all that remained was a sinking feeling—”I wasted my money.”

After that, the game console sat untouched on top of my dresser.

Each time I saw it, a small sting of regret pricked my heart.

—I should’ve used my money differently.

—Maybe my father was right.

For years, I carried that belief.

Okane-san once told me that unresolved emotions from childhood often manifest in adulthood. This was one of those instances.

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—So, what would I say to my younger self now?

Before I knew it, I was writing a letter.

“—You were so excited to buy that game, weren’t you?

You felt a thrill, like a whole new world was opening up to you.

That choice wasn’t wrong.

It must have hurt when your father didn’t understand your excitement. But that feeling—that moment—it was real. And it still connects to who I am today.

Now, I work with computers for a living.

I use them every day, earning a living through the very thing that fascinated me back then.

Your curiosity was real. Your passion was real.

So from now on, trust in what truly excites you. Follow the things that spark joy in your heart.

—Thank you for buying that game.”

As I finished writing, I felt something inside me loosen—a heaviness lifting, replaced by lightness.

After that, even my approach to spending money started to change.

I used to make choices based on price alone.

“This is a bit expensive… Maybe I should get something similar but cheaper.”

But in doing so, I was constantly putting my true desires second.

Now, I listen to what I genuinely value.

And something curious began happening.

Items I once hesitated to buy would suddenly be gifted to me. Unexpected income would appear just before a major purchase.

—The flow of energy had shifted.

What Okane-san had taught me—the cycle of gratitude—was becoming clearer.

My past was no longer just a collection of regrets. Instead, it held valuable messages for my future.

That forgotten game console—it wasn’t a mistake. It was the seed of what I do now.

The programming I once feared learning? It’s now my everyday tool.

“The past has been shaping my future all along.”

Okane-san once said—

“You know, the experiences that seem negative at first often hold the greatest meaning. Challenges, lingering memories—they tend to connect directly to our strengths and purpose.”

With this newfound understanding, even painful memories started to look different.

The struggles, the disappointments—they all played a role in shaping who I’ve become.

And with that realization came an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

“Thank you.”

Through the window, I hear the joyful voices of children playing.

It almost feels as if my younger self is laughing alongside them, finally at peace.

To be continued in Episode 5: “When Gratitude Flows, Reality Shifts.”