This is my 78 year-old Teddy. My mother kept it, and now, losing fur and one eye, it is a metaphor for my inner child. Our child needs something to hold and love, something to play with as if it were real. Play is our inner child. Play can make something out of anything, like Macgyver. When you surrender to play, you are surrendering to your inner child who is always there waiting for you to play with him/her.

A man needs a little madness or else…he will never cut the rope and be free. (Zorba the Greek) 

How can I free my inner child from the the tomb in which I am buried alive under the landfill of my Adult life? My inner child is that in my which is Innocent, non-judgmental, playful and free. But it doesn’t speak the language of my adult person. But it understands play and magic. That is the madness that will cut the rope.