One day while eating my lunch at a small table on my back porch, an unexpected guest arrived.  This tiny visitor, no longer than a dime is wide, marched along the edge of the table from left to right, past my plate, and stopped to gaze at the Mexican sunflower leaves draping over the table and blocking its path.  When I put my fork down and adjusted my glasses to get a better view, my jaw dropped in surprise and wonder.

This marvelous, fantastical being had to have been transported to my table from another galaxy!  In my entire life, I had never seen an insect that looked like this.  What world did it come from?  Where is it going?  What cosmological intelligence could have created such a Suess-like, fairy-tale creature, in such a small package?

This unexpected guest made my day.  I was in awe of the great Mystery of life, how a tiny bug could be such a source of curiosity and delight.

In the book Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life, psychologist and author Dacher Keltner describes awe as “the feeling of being in the presence of something vast that transcends your understanding of the world“.

Dr. Keltner’s research suggests that awe and wonder are essential to our mental, physical, and emotional health and well-being.  Health benefits include calming of the nervous system and releasing of oxytocin—the “cuddle-chemical” that promotes well-being, social interaction, growth and healing.

Opportunities for awe and delight are everywhere—like the kid I saw unicycling downhill (yeah one wheel, no brakes!) with a humongous bouquet of flowers in his hands, or the “goth” teen who with utmost patience helped an elder who dropped her bag, or my recent discovery at the top of Skinner Mountain—three luminous rainbow shafts streaming down from threatening, gray storm clouds as they drifted over the river and valley floor.  These moments are ephemeral and easily missed, but when we take time to pause and  appreciate them, they can connect us to the transcendent and to a Presence greater than ourselves.

During these unprecedented, challenging times, it’s tempting to sink into negativity and focus on “what’s wrong” with ourselves and the world.  With a small shift in attention, however, we gift ourselves with the joy, awe and wonder that is our birthright.  We come face-to-face with that mysterious paradox of life:  that light and darkness coexist as one.  Rainbows stream down from storm clouds.  Great loss is accompanied by great love.  While war rumbles, a unicyclist is bringing flowers to a beloved, and an elder is helped across the road.

As a therapist,  two questions I frequently hear are “Why do I have to connect with my Inner Child and how do I know the child part is there?”  Great questions.

The short answer: Our inner child self is that part of us that is spontaneous, loving, playful, joyful, creative, and innocent.  When we suffer early parental attachment injury, the child learns to shut down these life-affirming qualities and replace them with adaptive responses to trauma: dissociation, fear, somatic symptoms, anxiety, anger, and shame. The wounded child and her authentic self go into exile, where she is safe and protected from perceived danger in her family or in the world.

These unhealed traumas can live on into adulthood, and impact every aspect of our lives: self-esteem, work, health, relationships, creativity, and life purpose.

There’s good news!  We can rediscover, befriend, and heal the inner child, creating over time a profound sense of wholeness, inner security, calm, and self-esteem.  Thanks to brain neuroplasticity we can repair attachment traumas by “rewiring” the brain.  I have found that the five attachment healing models below are helpful in helping clients reconnect with and heal the inner child:

Janina Fisher PhD (Trauma-informed Stabilization Treatment (TIST), teaches mindful awareness of and dialogue with one’s inner traumatized C-PTSD parts, honoring their brilliant survival strategies, and repairing attachment by reconnecting the Wise Adult Self with the Traumatized Child.

Laurel Parnell PhD (Attachment-based EMDR: Healing Relational Trauma), has a protocol for imagining and “tapping in”, through bilateral stimulation, healthy development and attachment—from the in-utero stage, through the birth process, toddlerhood, latency, and into adolescence.

Lucia Capacchione, PhD (Recovery of Your Inner Child), teaches writing and drawing with your non-dominant hand to connect with the Inner Child.

Daniel Brown PhD (Attachment Disturbances: Treatment for Comprehensive Repair), created a guided visualization, whereby one imagines parents who “did all the right things”.  Over time, a positive, stable working map of attachment replaces the old insecure attachment “map”.  This visualization can work well in conjunction with psychotherapy, and is available on YouTube.

The journey of self-transformation involves vulnerability, courage, and commitment to embracing our inner child.  In the words of author Elizabeth Gilbert (O Magazine, 2016):

“Many years ago when I was going through a dark season of depression and self-loathing, I taped a sweet photograph of myself at the tender age of 2 on my bathroom mirror. Looking at that photo every day reminded me that I once was this blameless little person, deserving of all tenderness—and that part of me would always be this blameless little person deserving of all tenderness.

Meditating upon a smaller and more innocent version of my face helped me learn to be more compassionate to myself. I was finally able to recognize that any harm I inflicted on me, I was also inflicting on her. And that little kid clearly didn’t deserve to be harmed.

Reconnecting with one’s inner child is a terrific therapeutic practice, whether you have old wounds to heal or simply want to avoid opening up new ones.”

Sometimes it’s hard to trust that “still small voice within.” In the ’80’s, while driving down Harvard St. on my way to work at a Boston rehab hospital, an inner voice said out of the blue “Buy Mike a white rose.” Huh? A white rose? For Mike? “Mike” was the most difficult, resistant patient on the pain unit at that time, and all the patients and staff were fed up with his angry outbursts. The medical director was on the verge of discharging him for non-compliance. In fact, he had just stormed out of my relaxation workshop the night before, slamming the door behind himself but not before shouting “…and the rest of you patients should leave this lousy group, too!”

“Buy a white rose for Mike,” the inner voice nudged again.

I quickly made a U-turn back to a florist, and bought a white rose. When I got to the unit, Mike was in a physical therapy session. I put the rose in a small vase and left it in his room with a note that said “Dear Mike, it seems like you’re having a hard time and in a lot of pain. We’re not sure what you’re so angry about, but we wish you peace.”

An hour later I was chatting with a few nurses and rehab associates in the back room behind the nursing station. The charge nurse, Kim, stuck her head in and said “Mike is at the counter and wants to know who gave him the rose.” Everyone looked quizzically at each other, then at me. Flushed, heart beating louder, I got up to go face the music with Mike.

I’ll always remember the sight of him there. The grizzly bear I had expected to growl at me, had transformed into a teddy bear—a trembling, gentle man.

“Did you give this rose and note to me?” he asked, eyes glistening with tears.

“Yes, I did.”

“I don’t think you know how much this means to me. I’ve never been seen…or understood like this before.”

He paused, looking into my eyes from a tender, vulnerable place inside. “Is it OK if I give you a hug?” he asked.

We embraced, and in that moment, we both experienced healing and gratitude—Mike for having had his anger seen and met with compassion, and I for seeing with regret how judgmental I could be. In a way, we were each receiving love and forgiveness from the other.

That night, Mike was willing to participate in guided imagery into his chronic pain, where to his surprise, he discovered repressed memories of childhood abuse. He was finally able to open up, see what lay beneath the anger, and grieve.

The following morning, the day shift staff kept asking “Who gave Mike the happy pill?” Mike was transformed—he became the star of the unit, welcoming new patients, participating in all the groups, even leading a chronic pain support group. His pain level went down dramatically. Even his sense of humor was restored, as he laughed himself silly over his own corny jokes.

A few words of intuitive guidance, a white rose…we never know where our “gut instinct” will lead us…but it’s worth trusting and listening to! A Presence, deep within ourselves, that has vision and wisdom far beyond our limited mental capacities, KNOWS.

I sat in my office listening, tears glistening in my eyes as a bereft client shared her story.

Suddenly massive red firetrucks and flashing police cars rocketed down King St. toward the center of town, horns blasting and sirens screaming their messages of alarm and disaster.

Nothing unusual.

Until I discerned a faint, lilting melody holding firm within the cacophony of noise. From the depths of a tiny brown bird, an aria in praise of life tumbled forth.

A lone song sparrow, delayed in departing for more southern climes and seemingly unruffled by calamity or cold, was cheerily singing along with the trucks at the top of her lungs.

She may have been minuscule in stature, but the force of faith and exaltation that trilled from her throat could have brought the gods to their knees.

When the river of life rushed by in a torrent of trauma and drama, this holy emissary didn’t budge. She held her ground, sang the irrepressible song she came to this world to sing, and in the sharing, illuminated brokenness with Light.

-Marilyn Marks 11/4/23