I know what I really want for Christmas. I want my childhood back. – Robert Fulghum
The initial idea for this text started in the Center of Universal Light when one of the members of this spiritual group spontaneously said that she had given her inner child a name. I was aware of this concept, but what was new was that this person had publicly named it. I was surprised but explained it away by her unusually cheerful mood. Later that day, Tina and I took a long walk supported by good weather and natural surroundings. In this relaxing and revitalizing environment, she asked me how I would name my inner child. Without hesitation, I answered Tarzan. With this response, I re-entered a period of life that I had not visited for a long time.
Childhood hero
Tarzan was my childhood hero whom I met in movies, comics, and books while growing up in Foča, a small town in Bosnia, in the 1960s. I imitated him by going into a nearby forest and swinging from a vine trying to shout in the way I heard him yell in the movies. What attracted me to that fictional character? Probably his superhuman physical strength, which I wanted to possess in my pre-pubertal years. Besides, the strangeness of his life among the great apes amidst the jungle, a natural environment outside the currents of civilization. In spite of this, Tarzan stood out for his ability to use the language as well as other cultural attributes. Although at that time I did not know the term noble savage, a romanticized version of the innate goodness of man, I intuitively identified with that aspect of the character of Tarzan.
This unforgettable time of my childhood in Foča was an era in which I fully lived in the moment, delighted with everything that surrounded me. I was an inquisitive seeker. Everything was bursting with the intensity, newness, and potency of life. Easiness of existence, playfulness, and admiration prevailed. It was as if nature and I were dancing to the beat of the music at a rapid rhythm filled with joie de vivre. To evoke that sentiment, let’s read a poem I have dedicated to it.
Sounds of Music
Echoes of Balkan
Power of Rhythm
Pace is Fast
Vigor and Force
Body in Trance
Being Alive
And Dancing
And now close your eyes and sail with the magic of your imagination into the carefree waters of childhood and enjoy the innocence of your immediate experience. After you get back, let’s keep going, shall we?
I have the impression that you have returned refreshed by life-energy water. This type of "spring water" was flowing for me even stronger during the summers I spent with relatives in Slavonski Brod, Croatia. Then, I ran incessantly, and because of that, I got the proper nickname, Rabbit. I was a skinny, long-legged creature bouncing back and forth like a real bunny. I enjoyed summer activities: swimming in the Sava River, playing rough games, eating watermelons after lunch, drinking well water, running after chickens, milking cows, and eating the sweetest and biggest apricots from a tree planted by my grandfather. What a life that was!
Inner child meets psychiatrists
I first met the inner child professionally in the 1990s. This term has not been accepted in a psychiatric setting, but I have heard it from psychologists and counselors. From them, I understood that the inner child is a childlike aspect of the individual prior to puberty. A type of semi-independent subpersonality with which we lost contact on the path of growth.
Like other psychiatrists, I was skeptical of the concept. Haven't we already had Freud and his threefold personality structure and childhood development theory? Has he not taught us the significance of the first five years of life when instincts are formed under the Id's direction and the influence of society represented by the Superego? In his conceptualization, the Ego is an integrative aspect of the personality that balances the demands of the Id with the requirements of the Superego.
Later came Eric Berne with transactional analysis, which is quite similar to Freud's theory, only simplified and modernized. He formulated three interconnected ego-states that determine the maturity of personality and interaction with others. When we behave the way we behaved in childhood, we are in the ego state of the child. In the ego state of the parent, we imitate our parents or parent figures. The ego state of the adult operates on the principle of "here and now" and is embedded in reality.
But for me, the greatest influence has been Bowlby's attachment theory, in which early childhood events live in us as a habituated behavior. Of all the emotional experiences we had as children, our relationship with our parents and others who have played the parenting role has had the greatest impact on how we feel about ourselves. These were our first experiences of love, care, empathy, connection, and joy. They were also our first experiences of rejection, disappointment, and loneliness. These happenings in the first two years of our lives have the power to become habitual states. They affect the way we know ourselves and the way we experience and relate to other people. As adults, we form close relationships in which we feel loved and autonomous if the primary bond with our parents was filled with trust and security. If this was not the case, then we feel insecure and have difficulties being intimate with others. In the worst-case scenario, we are traumatized and tend to overreact to the slightest provocation as though it were a matter of life and death.
Duality of the inner child
Most of us, if not all, have experienced happy and not-so-happy moments in our childhood, which when solidified form the basis of our inner child, which is, therefore, the amalgam of the so-called "magical/wonder child" like my Tarzan and a "wounded child", which I did not write about from a personal perspective, but it is present. My "wounded child" stems from the moments of disappointment, abandonment, distress, and other negative felt states. One of those traumatic events was my rejection reaction to a situation where my father went to his hometown with my brother, promising to take me along, but didn’t. Or the hurt I felt when he physically punished me for my innocent sex play. There were moments with my mother I experienced being manipulated by her. She once said that she could get me thirsty on the other side of the water, as a striking illustration of her control over me, which led to my feeling of guilt that I wrestled with all my life. There were also situations in which my brother displayed jealousy and aggressiveness toward me, which affected him more than me later in life. Fortunately, my "magical/wonder child" has had and still has much more impact on me than my other part.
But at times my "wounded child" is manifested in a somewhat unusual way, say with my tendency towards "unsavory jokes." For example, I remember when I was in school, I deliberately whispered the wrong information to a classmate who had been called to answer the teacher's question, and when that poor soul said what I supplied, an explosion of laughter followed. That aspect of my inner child still appears once in a while, now with Tina. She used to get mad, but now she just asks, "Is that your mischievous side?" if she suspects that I exhibit the Dionysian slant of my inner child.
The inner child grows up
Most of us, compelled by the demands of society, are animated by the desire to grow up unless we are firmly entrenched in the life of Peter Pan. Therefore, to be accepted into the new world of adulthood, we are forced to give up our “childish” characteristics such as curiosity, joy, playfulness, naivety, wonder, etc. Some of us, with great effort, drift away from the "wounded child", either through the mechanism of repression or through dissociation. But no matter how, we are propelled to put on a new suit, and the old one, the child one, is thrown in the corner, donated to a younger brother or sister, or put in the trash. Thus, adorned with "new feathers", we are on the path to “betterment.” Life becomes predictable, monotone, routine. We turn to the outer world with a new face, similar to the face of all who surround us. As an end result of this process, our genuine inner experience is gradually suppressed. Vitality is lost when we start following the rigid rules of conduct and obeying the “law and order.”
But things are not that simple. The "old feathers" did not disappear, despite our best effort. They are still there, with us, in us, hidden, buried, but with the need to manifest themselves at an inconvenient time when we do not pay attention, to surprise or terrify us with the intensity and infantile power of expression. They appear to be like a "Trojan horse" with a subversive activity that systematically sabotages what we believed to be a solid construction of our adult personality.
Especially, if those "old feathers" contain accumulated emotional injuries and childhood traumas, then the repressive "adult" control is practically impossible to maintain owing to the constant unconscious influence of the dissatisfied and denied part. In stressful situations, this infantile part removes the shackles and appears in all its "wounded child" nature as a frightened, angry, helpless, lost, and confused person.
Thus, the inner child who demands recognition appears in two forms, one positive, creative, and playful called the "magical/wonder child" which if renounced depletes the juices of vitality that give life color, joy, and authenticity. The second form is the "wounded child" of whom we are not conscious, or who is constantly buzzing in the background of our thoughts, feelings, and basic beliefs. This form is so detached from our usual, acknowledged Self that it is often perceived as a foreign body. When it suddenly enters the stage inappropriately, we tend to cry out, "I don't know what came over me!"
The integration of the inner child
If we want to integrate the inner child into our lives, the simplest way is to be around children, pets, animals in general, nature, and to remain present, engaged, and mindful of our state of consciousness. Introduce fun movement activities into our lives in any form, such as dance, sports, aerobics classes, swimming, kayaking, etc. Initiate artistic projects, gardening, playing an instrument, singing, watching children's films, etc. In this way, we are going to wake up our "magical/wonder child" and increase the percentage of time spent in the beautiful state.
The healing of the "wounded child" is more delicate and sometimes necessitates the intervention of mental health professionals. At other times, simple practices may gradually shift our state of suffering into a beautiful state. The objective is to reduce sympathetic arousal through deep diaphragmatic respiratory practices, cultivate an enhanced awareness by observing the content of our minds without judgment, and introduce the sound vibration by chanting mantras like ohm or humming like a bee. Additionally, the prayer of gratitude, forgiveness, and self-compassion are needed healing practices. Ekam Spirituality recommends Soul Sync, a 9-minute exercise to heal the "wounded child." It is a guided meditation practice consisting of: conscious breathing; repetitive movements of hands; chanting “I am”; visualization of unity with light; and formation of an intention for the "wounded child" state moving into the child state that is capable of loving, trusting and connecting. At the end of this powerful meditation, we smile and embrace ourselves. * Soul Sync is recommended as a daily practice, or multiple times a day if so desired.
Now, let me inform you about the change in the "happy time of my life" that occurred when my family left Foča for Pančevo. I was almost eleven years old and had to adjust to completely different life circumstances. While I had friends, I played and socialized with, my magical world portrayed by Tarzan had disappeared. I adapted well, but the longing for the life I had in Foča persisted for many years to come. As a grown-up, I have occasionally returned to the name Tarzan and used it as a password or inspiration for a love poem, like the one that follows, in which I included Tarzan’s fictitious companion Jane.
Cell phone lightened up,
Jane is calling,
Sweet words were said,
The soul is healed.
The dream was dreamt,
Jane in it,
Sweet deeds were done,
The body is touched.
Tarzan in action,
Muscles and all,
Exuded a sweet scent,
The pleasure experienced.
Mythical hero,
Past and present,
Jane is waiting,
For rescue and love.
Life in Arizona brought me back to my early childhood because of my connection to the natural world. It's an almost meditative daily practice, where I use all my senses, breathe deeply, walk mindfully and hum, or allow my creative brain to "become wild." I brought my Tarzan back to life. How about you?
* The Four Sacred Secrets: For Love and Prosperity, A Guide to Living in a Beautiful State, by Preethaji and Krishnaji, Atria Books, 2019
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