A Bag of Tricks
Sometimes the people who help us feel safe stay with us for a lifetime... and help us find our way home.
Read or listen… nothing real tricky.
Sometimes someone comes into your life you never expected. Sometimes, it’s someone who’s already there. But when they really see you, what happens next can go beyond anything either of you dreamed of.
I’m very grateful to have had this experience, and I try to be there for others in the same way. I call it being human, and I do my best to protect what that means—as a therapist and in life.
Although we’re there to help others, they often remind us of our humanness… and teach us a lot about ourselves.
We accompany them on their journey for a while until they can walk on their own... even just a few steps. They learn a lot from us, but we also see ourselves a little differently along the way.
Some say, “That’s what parents do.” Parents do the best they can but aren’t perfect. None of us are. They teach us a lot, but it isn‘t always enough.
Sometimes they don’t know when we’re hurting because they’re too focused on their own pain to see ours. Sometimes… they’re just not there.
And even if they are, we may keep it to ourselves for fear of upsetting them. That might be your story, but if you haven’t noticed… it was definitely mine.
When I was a kid, my mom was sick a lot, and my dad was busy working. My brother was a handful, to say the least. A woman named Ida stepped in to help with the chores. But she was much more… truly a gift from God.
She was different from anyone I had ever met before. Coming from a family whose roots reached back to the days of slavery, Ida saw me and held me in her heart until I could feel safe. She quietly talked to my mom… and set loving limits on my brother, who was angry a lot… and often took it out on me.
After a long day, my dad would drive her home to a part of town we hardly ever visited. He didn’t seem to mind, even though it was dark… and wasn’t all that safe, especially when the Buffalo snow was deep.
It was another side of my father I didn’t always see… but his kindness still lingers in my heart.
Ida was my Mary Poppins. She was a sweet, soft-spoken woman with kind eyes who carried a big bag and a quiet strength... you knew was real.
She could see your heart and rock you to sleep with prayers and love. The fear drifted away so easily… It still does, as I lay me down to sleep and feel her in my heart.
I often think of Ida and what she would say to me: “Stand tall, Marc, and feel the love inside yourself. Then, you’ll know the pain inside of you and others, and what to say or do. Sometimes less is more. It’s not just what you say but what you do that’s most important.”
That has become my credo, with a few of my own gems that I’ve discovered along the way... in the light of invisibility. They help me remember that I’m not alone… and we’re all in this together.
My 11-year-old granddaughter, Bess, knows all about this. An old soul at a young age, she’s a lot like her namesake and the other great ones before her… always there to stand up for and lend a hand to those in need—with a little twist of her own.
Perfect for the part, Bess was chosen to play Jane in Mary Poppins, her school play this year. It’s quite a production where almost everyone in the school community is involved in some way.
I wish all schools could be like that… What a difference that would make.
We’re all so proud of Bess and her little sister. The play is for fifth through eighth graders, but Annie, who’s in fourth grade, was invited to help out or be an extra in the ensemble if needed.
She’s special in her own right, and I’m sure she’ll have her time to shine, too. She already has a big part in our lives and shines in so many ways… along with our little Lily in the UK, just starting to take her first steps.
I think we all have a bag of tricks—the ways we help others shine in the darkness. The special ones, past or present, live in our hearts and teach us this. I’m sure you have yours… even if you don’t see them much or haven’t met them yet.
Maybe the ones you thought would be there will be there in some way again… even if you don’t see it.
Regardless of what happens, they all help us remember what’s special about us… so we can be there for others when they need it.
As a therapist, that’s my guide… my internal compass. I’m not Mary Poppins or Ida… or any of the others who live in my heart. Some call it “Classic Marc,” and, as you may have noticed, I have my bag of tricks, too.
When we’re together, you never know what’s going to happen next. Sometimes there’s a moment when I say something and the dots connect… and you see yourself in a different way. Me too.
Maybe it’s happening right now. If you look in the mirror, you might even see your own bag. Just smile when you do… and notice where it lands inside. That’s your quiet strength.
In the moment, I feel a warm kiss on the back of my neck. She would call it “Ida’s spot.” That’s where she kissed me when she noticed that I needed to feel loved. I know it now as my Core Self, and no one can ever take that away.
The incredible Walt Disney knew his too, and gave that kiss to all of us… in so many ways. His daughters’ love of P. L. Travers’ Mary Poppins books inspired his promise to bring that magic to the screen.
It has helped so many of us remember what’s really important. Spend time with your kids… inside and out, and love them the way they always deserved to be.
The little things really matter. It’s never too little… and it’s never too late.
Just a bag of tricks… from “The Perfect Nanny” or Nana. My wife has taken this to heart by making some beautiful bags to hold gifts for those she loves… And then they, in turn, pass that love along, even if they keep the bags for themselves.
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious… spread the word in your own special way.
Maybe even reach out to someone you haven’t seen for a while... or someone you have seen but want them to see you.
You got it, kiddo… and never forget. I won’t either. You might not see me, but I’ll be in the neighborhood… walking in some good shoes and carrying my bag.
Yes… us old souls will be there in our own special way.
I might even be singing or humming “Feed the Birds” and a few more of my favorites while putting the little ones to bed... tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag.
Feed the Birds (Tuppence a Bag) — Richard & Robert Sherman, songwriters
Afternotes
Dedication: To all those on this journey of heart, moving from room to room, remembering themselves—and who we are together. Each of us remembering who we were always meant to be.
Gratitude: With appreciation for those who have shared their light and sweetness with me over the years—and received mine in return. That includes Walt Disney. and all those who worked to bring Mary Poppins to life.
Confidentiality note: This piece was inspired by someone close to my heart, but is a composite of many people I know—inside and outside of therapy. Any resemblance to your own life or our shared experience is both coincidental and universal—reminding us that our stories echo one another in the fabric of human experience.
Comments or questions? You’re welcome to reach me at mcecilvt@aol.com. Feel free to share these words—and this blog—with anyone you hold close… or long to be closer to.
About me: Besides being a writer, Marc Cecil is a doctoral-level licensed psychologist, certified AEDP supervisor, approved EMDR consultant, and senior CSRT consultant. An experienced psychotherapist, supervisor, consultant, and teacher, Marc uses an integrated experiential model called Core Self Integration Therapy (CSIT)—grounded in our capacity for adaptive change—to help people heal from complex relational, developmental, and transgenerational trauma. Some refer to it as Elephant Work—standing solidly in the healing power of accompaniment.
Dr. Cecil lives in Vermont near the shores of Lake Bomoseen, where his heartfelt stories and images of connection arise from the light of invisibility—bringing life to therapy and therapy to life.
Stay tuned for more—as this living model continues to grow—with self-compassion leading the way around the world… and back home.