Child is Father of the Man
Childhood photo of Bruce
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
—William Wordsworth
Not sure why it’s taken me seven decades to get serious about this work. I am well aware of the dynamics of my family of origin and how they have positioned me in my adult life. I have lots of memories of those early years, especially between four and eight, when I had to conform to the expectations and suffer the judgements of parents and family. I can even say that much that is positive in my life comes out of those formative relationships. And yet I am clear that every day I am living with less joy, less courage and less fulfillment than were potential in the life of that boy—and this man.
William Wordsworth believed that children emerge from the Infinite at birth, bringing with them “Intimations of Immortality,” (do a search for this most famous Wordsworth poem). Sacrificing innocence as they grow to adulthood, children lose this deep connection to their divine nature. Some few are able to reclaim that innocence in what French philosopher Paul Ricoeur called the “second naivete.”
Some time ago I began a practice of reconnecting with my self as a boy. I am that person still, though my size, technical knowledge and even the cells of my body are hugely different. When we look back to our childhood selves we are notice a continuity of awareness, of who at essence we were then, are now and will always be. My first goal in this practice has been to bring survival skills I’ve developed as an adult, and the adult balance and grounding I’ve gained over seven decades, back to support and encourage that introverted and sometimes frightened boy. How often he would melt down to tears, wondering where to turn. What if his evolution to adulthood could be protected in a virtual way, allowing more of his potential to materialize?
My second goal in this work has been to invite that child, “father of the man,” to teach me how to reconnect with beauty, how to live my creativity, how to experience the full potential of delight, and how to trust in the Great Context from which we arose and into whose mystery we will finally merge again.
I offer you here a few tools that have helped me along the way:
What was the fond name you were called as a young child? For me it was “Brucie.” I invite you to use a name from those early years as a term of endearment in conversations with yourself. If there’s someone you really trust with your growth processes, ask them to use that name when they are feeling a moment of affection toward you. In a moment of fear I might say, “Ok Brucie. It’s going to be Ok!”
As an introverted middle child in a large family, some of my best friends were stuffed animals and toys. There was a small sheep, “Cuddles.” And a piggy bank—yes, “Piggy!”—who wore black glasses. I was heartbroken when these “living” friends were forcibly taken away “because it was time for me to put aside childish things.” My natural sadness was deemed weak or shameful. Here’s the practice. Time to get a new stuffed animal. Treat it well. Sit with it in a favorite chair while you meditate. I ordered a Totoro stuffy online, and he’s become a great friend. As I feel this friendship, I know myself as the loving child I was.
Find some old pictures of yourself between 4 and 8 especially. Not just “smile for the camera” pictures. Put them in frames and set them where you can see them each day. Your office. Your meditation chair. Your altar (more on this in another post…) Get increasingly familiar with these images. They are your manifest self as much as the reflection in the mirror. Express your fondness for this child. Talk to them.
When you’re headed out on an errand or a project, invite your child self along. Almost as if you are a parent or grandparent. Look through their eyes. Show them what you are noticing. Of course there are not two of you. This is you talking with yourself.
What did you like to do as a child? Modelling clay? Finger paints? Swinging at the park? Exploring the garden? Plinking the piano? Sitting still under a favorite tree? I know that you are busy with long to-do lists. I know that important activities fill your days and nights. But what if you were to open up to some of those things you liked best as a child? Rediscover your affinity for things that mattered most to you then. My hands in clay, I am that child again.
When your child self feels afraid, feels like hiding, stand by him as the adult you have become. Just as you would with a child or grandchild of your own!
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man.