SLANT, May, 2015
Reflections of the questing spirit
by Amy Carpenter
THE VALLEY OF THE CHILD
“Every single one is, and is painfully every moment aware of it, still a child. …and in fact that child is the only real thing in them. What doesn’t come out of that creature isn’t worth having, or it’s worth having only as a tool – for that creature to use and turn to account and make meaningful.”
-Ted Hughes, in a letter to his son Nicholas, 1986
Now and then we all find ourselves tumbling down the ragged
mountain of personal history to suddenly land naked and ill
in the broad valley of the inner child. According to Ted Hughes, that
is the time we are raw and vulnerable enough to actually connect
with our real essence. No longer fueling the energy required to
maintain our defenses, or the
functioning, worldly selves, we are instead picking through the
shards of a real or imagined defeat, our hearts broken and our
defenses as useless as a seal
I had such an encounter recently, as unexpected as any other. For a
week or two I walked around with a raw opening in my heart, a
small inner hollow of personal pain I hadn
known before. Spontaneous tears erupted for days if I exposed
myself to any remotely moving experience, as if I suddenly had
emotional spina bifida. Not usually prone to tears, this was
altogether strange to me. Yet the opening, while it lasted, felt as
sweet as it did painful and I have to say, I sorta miss it
month later, the tears now dry and the fervor and pace of life
returned, I have a new perspective on that valley of the naked child.
No one holds a measuring stick to heartache. It
condition, often avoided and out
of anticipatory feelers. If we can imagine experiencing discomfort
or pain in any given aspect of human relationship, we are just as
likely to flee to the hills rather than expose our soft underbelly to
hurt, only to then stitch ourselves up afterwards.
And yet, each time we do, we are the better for it. Something in the
tenderness, the required self
teardrop, something about all of that produces a realness, an
authentic aliveness to the world that outlasts and outshines the pain.
Life is lived from soul versus utility, emotion versus aptitude. And
while it may not be beneficial to take up residence in that valley, an
occasional visit keeps us humble, and part of the human circle at its
most connecting point.
There is a hundred things that could go wrong if we respond to life
from the perspective of the naked child. After all, everyone else has
their own inner valleys as well, why should ours afford the purest
view? But there is an even greater danger in avoiding it. Life will
land us there eventually, whether we like it or not, so why not take
the opportunity to feel the bittersweet ache of that opening,
recognize our human aliveness, and transmute pain to joy.
The Maine Beehive 