the child archetype

I squint into the horizon as we wade out into the Indian Ocean. The sun bites into the turquoise and turns it silver like a magic trick. Mum’s hip is snug. My fingers dig into her skin and I eye the rise and fall of the oceans swell: it’s like the lungs of a sleeping torso. We move out deeper to where my feet no longer touch the bottom and my grip tightens a little. The next set builds and the pace of my heart quickens. I want to go back. I look at mum’s face for reassurance. Her face is dreamy, serene. She looks so happy. I am confused by my own concern. In the final moment before the wave hits, I am vulnerable and powerless. In this place where reality and fear reside, I make a choice to wholeheartedly trust that everything will be ok. With enormous force, the wave hits us. Before I know it, we are writhing around like rags in a washing machine. Under the ocean, our fingers are narrowly linked for a few moments before they are separated entirely. Another wave pounds into the first, and in this moment, under the sea, the actuality of life’s fickleness – it’s fragility, wash over me as I choke and swallow the cold saltwater. This is my earliest memory. I am five.

Story

I was born in the seventies in the eastern suburbs of Perth. The red brick homes that we dwelled in baked in the dry summer heat. Mum had no licence so we rode the train a lot. I'd stick my head out of the window, my hair knotting up in the wind. The clicketty clack of wheels-on-track lulled me into daydreams on sweaty torn leather seats as we pulled past the streets of the lower class and still brown waters of the snaking Swan River.

Technologically speaking, these were blissfully ignorant times. The Internet had not been invented, phones were connected to the wall by a cord and a 'social profile’ was your face. IRL. No one wore seatbelts or bike helmets and our trampolines had no safety nets. Life was thrilling, if not a tad fucken scary. Broken bones & scabby knees resulted in quick learning and great stories.

I was a freckle-faced, street-savvy rascal: a kind of cussing Punky Brewster. I traded in barbie dolls for a beat up cassette player and spent entire afternoons recording my own arm-farts and burps onto blank tapes.

I was not everyone’s cup of tea.

I was curious about life but I soon worked out that the adults around me didn’t divulge much of their internal worlds. As a result, I intellectualised life around me, trying to make sense of it all by keen observation: listening, taking mental notes & making assumptions. I nourished my own inner world with story and daydreams but in regular life I felt awkward.

In my sensitivity I became psychically detached from my family so I embarked on a quest to try and work it out on my own. I soon discovered there were other children dwelling on this periphery, like me. To me, these fringe dwellers were colourful and interesting but to others they were misfits, rascals and rebels. I loved them anyway. It was in their wildness, that I saw myself. We were not nice kids from nice households. We were poor, rough and pre-pubescent: armed with volume, attitude & odour. We were the keepers of our shitty stories and it was through these stories that we unearthed a kind of camaraderie. We pioneered a new way of doing things and reinvented our own rules.

In this place, we were less poor, less encumbered and less alone.

As we ducked and weaved through the suburban streets on beat up bikes; faces & fingers mulberry-purple; shoes lost forever in someones yard, we shared with the fading twilight the secrets of our day. And as the street lights tagged illumination duty with the fading sun, the night gave promise of a place to rest our growing legs and scabby knees: a promise of rebirth and hope.

We could return tomorrow and try again to excavate a little more of ourselves.

The Child

When we arrive into adulthood, we bring with us a kind of souvenir or essence from our younger, more impressionable years. Something that lingered & stuck to us as we morphed into grown ups. For some it may have been a playful disposition, an innocence or sense of adventure. For others it was the reality of abandonment, rejection or unmet needs. More often than not, it is a combination of all or some of these things.

For a lot of us, childhood was not all roses. Regardless of the intentions of our parents or carers, we may have been subjugated to neglect, trauma, abandonment, oppression and abuse.

To take a walk in those tiny shoes again down memory lane can be tricky and unappealing. And so… we learn to soldier on in our grown up shoes while the archetype of the child walks in our shadow: pain repressed, voice unheard.

The Child Archetype is the aspect of our personality that reflects purity, innocence, faith, optimism and curiosity. It is the 'blank canvas' that lacks imprint of external conditioning and ego. The child has a faith like no other - to them, anything is possible. Magic, hope and story are woven within their reality like golden thread.

However, as we age, we take a few of life’s hard knocks and witness humanity’s shadow. Our faith somewhat diminishes and our optimism fades a little: it is inevitable and it is part of our walk.

In a different context, motherhood has also taught me that it is the nature of children to scream, argue, bite, throw tantrums, throw food and throw up. Children tend to make highly inappropriate comments in the presence of those you hope to impress and to boot, are messy, inexhaustible and fussy. They push you to the brink of sanity and deprive you of sleep until you find yourself Googling 'sleep induced psychosis' and 'adrenal exhaustion' at 2am.

But in fairness... being a kid is no walk in the park.

As a child grows, they remain in a constant state of observation: absorbing the world around them and engaging in continual education about how they fit into it all. They are mostly being guided and raised by people who are in the throes of a major life transition themselves (oh the irony of being a parent). Amidst the overwhelm of life, the Child is is growing teeth, losing teeth, learning to talk/walk/write/poo/swim - all whilst learning cold hard truths about how their life is steered by the culture, economy, communication, class and choices of their guardians. They experience rejection, bullying, abandonment and a bunch of other brutal stuff - without the emotional toolbelt of their parents.

Every day they are chucked in the deep end and are expected to keep their head above water.

Yep, being a child is hard.

But children are also incredibly brave and resilient.

And they have a secret weapon that we as grown ups do not: they naturally reside further from ego & human conditioning and dwell closer to TRUTH.

And that is why they are our greatest teachers.

The Shadow

We see imbalance in the Child Archetype when responsibility or obligation quashes our ability to approach life playfully. When we become engrossed in our financial, domestic, vocational & social endeavours, we can forget that our very existence is… well, miraculous.

The Child is a strong archetypal energy – it has the ability to help us flourish in life or can anchor us in the past, depending on how we use it’s energy. If our choices and behaviours are rooted in wounding, we can find ourselves on repeat, making it difficult to move forward physically, emotionally, spiritually or otherwise. We can find ourselves in patterns of blame or judgement and “wishing” that it could have all been different. Our carers and parents may be long gone from our lives but if we are still in this state of false yearning, we can find ourselves projecting these expectations onto others.

Sometimes the child shadow aspects we carry in adulthood are not so obvious. It may be a subtle sense of powerlessness or an inability to take responsibility for ourselves. We may avoid properly stepping into our 'adult shoes' because on some level, we still believe that we are not quite grown up yet.

There are many Child archetypal energies, so here are just a few 👉🏾

Orphan Child 🧸

In a nutshell, the Orphan Child at their core feels that they were born into the wrong tribe.

They struggle to maintain a sense of connection with family members and as a result often end up feeling isolated as the minority. Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Author & Storyteller tells the story of the "Mistaken Zygote", the zygote who was SO eager and excited to arrive into their new family, that they jumped the gun too early and instead arrived at a different family entirely...one that was not their own. The Mistaken Zygote dances to a different beat, spending their life never really fitting in or feeling understood by their blood tribe. Estes goes on to tell how most Mistaken Zygotes go on to become those with a strong Wild Woman/Man Archetype.

Orphan Children essentially raise themselves. They become independent from an early age, discovering how the world functions NOT by being parentally guided, but from personal judgement and experience. They attempt to construct their own belief systems from within and subsequently seek adoption of another tribe - one that 'gets' them.

The shadow of the Orphan Child occurs when the desire to be like the 'regular folk' sways more towards infatuation. They hunger for the idea of the nuclear family and the greener grass. In their comparisons, they stifle their personal evolvement and ripening. They perpetually blame their biological family for being emotionally or physically unavailable when life doesn’t go their way.

The Orphan Child needs to source out people they trust and share their story. Many of us are burdened with heavy pasts that we fear may literally upend us if they are revealed. But when we actually hear our story it can have a profound effect. When we share the truth of our stories, we are relieved of their burden. We learn that we are not alone and can reclaim our uniqueness.

Orphan Children make excellent leaders, therapists and healers because they have experienced what it is like to be an outcast within their own family. They have tasted, touched, smelled, heard and seen the depths of loneliness. They have an intimate relationship with disconnection and courage. Their superpower is empathy.

Eternal Child 👶🏼

The shadow traits of the Eternal Child can culminate as co-dependency.

As children, we rely on our carers for physical security, guidance and nourishment. If we are kept in a perpetual state of childhood, we will always look to others for these things (including our spouses or even children). This can make matters such as decision-making and responsibility seem overwhelming and so, on an unconscious level, we long for & let others to do it for us. This is disempowerment at its finest.

When we function within the realms of adulthood but still remain playful, adventurous and exploratory we can experience a sense of freedom and lightness within our lives – this is the Eternal Child in beautiful balance!

The Eternal Child’s unique gift is to create their own rules, allowing them to become avid listeners of their own innate wisdom. They dance to a different drum. They are pioneers and they are revolutionary because they think outside of the box. They make impeccable and inspirational leaders & mentors for children because they know how to connect with the essence of the Child. Because of this, they also make fantastic (and fun) parents.

Wounded Child 😞

Wounded children hold close to them the trauma & pain they endured in childhood like a treasured keepsake. This expression tends to hold them captive, inhibiting their ability to take responsibility for their thoughts & actions. They have a tendency to blame others when their needs are not met. They are extremely sensitive and tend to feel misunderstood.

The Wounded Child avoids change and has issues around letting go or changing negative behaviours. They ask themselves "am I enough? do I matter?".

The Wounded Child can find peace in forgiveness. Developing the courage to relinquish the wrongdoings of those who hurt them will not only set them free, it will lift them to the greatest of heights, allowing them to help others. They know exactly how it feels to be neglected, mistreated, abused and abandoned. There is nothing like true empathy from those who have walked the same shitty walk as you. This cannot be taught in a counselling or psychotherapy degree.

The best expression of the Wounded Child is to create. When they paint, draw, dance, build or sing, they draw on their innate power and transmute the negative (the wound) into deep personal fulfilment that inspires others also.

Magical Child ✨

The Magical Child can frustrate the absolute hell out of the average, everyday pragmatic person. They dawdle, daydream and drift off like no other.

Magical Child resides in fantasy. Here, the infinite is possible – which is why the world is so magical to them.

The strength of the Magical Child lies in their ability to stay optimistic when shit hits the fan. They have a clear insight into their life and it is nothing short of exquisite. Grown ups can become jaded and overly practical as a result of their experiences, but Magical Child reminds us that we can cultivate something better and brighter than our past.

We see the shadow of the Magical Child in those who spend more time in their daydreams than in reality. This can look like substance abuse or escapism through food, spirituality, gambling … a place where the alluring nature of the ethereal overrides the fruits of the real, natural world.

However when we allow this magical part of ourselves to be expressed healthily in our every day life, we are less prone to escapism and more inclined to live wholeheartedly, joyously and with a strong connection to spirit.

Revisiting the Past

So what "souvenirs" did you bring with you from your childhood? Are they traits that bring wholeness & joy to your adult life or .... are they be better to be left behind?

I had spent a decent portion of my life harbouring and entertaining the Abandoned Child, Orphan Child, Wounded Child .... they were all manifesting in my life negatively through my behaviours, patterns and projections, rearing their little heads whenever they were triggered. I got sick of them calling the shots. Eventually, I had to hold them, hear them and tend to them until they eventually eased off from dictating my every thought, choice and emotion. I realise they won't ever be fully gone - like all archetypes, they are a part of me. But I did need to remind them that I make the decisions from now on. They no longer have to fend for themselves. I will not bail out on them. I will not let them be hurt. And most importantly, they will not go unheard.

In turn, I fell in love with the archetypes that had brought me joy, resilience and healing since I was small. The Rebel, the Adventurer & the Pioneer have followed me my whole life. I will forever cherish the awkward little girl who spent her afternoons burping the alphabet, burning around on her scrappy bike while she tried to make sense of the world. I have answers for her now.

I have to come to learn that children don't care to much to be ignored or forgotten. They stamp their feet, cry, throw raging tantrums and whine profusely. The Child does anything they can to channel love and attention because ultimately, they seek connection.

And so, as adults, we are now old enough and strong enough to tend to the wounds of the Child. So, hold their hand. Bend down to their level and look them in the eye. Care for them. Finally, ask them: "what is it that you need?".

And with ears and heart wide open.... listen.

x

If you are ready to dive deeper into your Child archetype, please get in touch for a Heartcraft art therapy session or to enquire about up and coming workshops.

JOURNAL ENQUIRY:

• Which child archetype do you relate to the most? (magic, orphan, wild etc)

• How does this archetype play out in your life positively? negatively?

• Where in life do you feel unsafe?

• What nurtures you?

• What does loyalty mean to you?

• What did you enjoy most as a child?

• Do you still do those things now, as an adult?

REFERENCES:

Dr Clarissa Pinkola Estes - Women Who Run With the Wolves Audiobook, 2001

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