The Cherub Baby & Our Possessions

“We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.” -Anais Nin

She was sitting on the steps that led into the pool at One Mile. Slightly hunched, but relaxed and undeniably vibrant. She gave off an aura of simplicity and wisdom. Her naked little boy reminded me of a cherub baby with his rounded cheeks, not only on his face, and the perfect tanned skin. He even had gently placed blonde curls and clear blue eyes. I told her that he reminded me of that. She laughed and agreed. I couldn’t help but watch him and smile. Then I asked her, is he yours?

She said, He is his own. After a brief pause, she said again, He is his own person. But yes, in a sense, he is mine.

It threw me off. But it also made me want to know more about the mother and son. A statement like that is not something we hear very often. I wish I could remember his long name, but I can’t. I do know I’ve never heard of it before. It made me want to ask whether he named himself. With him being his own person and all. Is he really his own person if he doesn’t even get to choose what he, and others, call himself?

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this. There are so many things we call ours. That’s my dog, my boyfriend, my tree, my car. But are they truly ours? Last time I really thought about it, the things that made all of these examples, really everything in the universe, has been around a lot longer than we were able to put a name on them. And call them our own.

Just something to think about. In our possessive nature, does everything really belong to us? Or maybe, do we belong to it? Or maybe, possession in itself, is really just an illusion.

And on a side note, what would you call yourself if this was a world where we really were our own?


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