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My dear Michael, each of us carries every age of child, teen and adult within us like a nearly endless number of russian dolls… that image just came to me, seems to work… so the child remains but buried under many other selves.
the child peeks out to play and laugh or storm and rage or teach at the most unexpected moments - don't you see that in adults, sometimes especially those who are older and have reached the “second childhood”?
Love,
Nicole
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