Wounded Child, Wounded World
"No thing external can comfort and sate the soul like the innocent, childlike, pure, and unadulterated love one can have for oneself.”
All too often in this money-driven, survival-based society, we are confronted with the nagging, unwavering notion that there should be more to this life; a feeling which inspires a great deal of vexation.And if we are able to then steal enough time for a genuine analysis of this sentiment, we might see that the more does not refer to an external want for a bigger car or heated pool, but instead to a fundamental lack of internal expansion. Buried down within, a barely conscious part of us may insatiably crave a soulful expression of the deepest urges of our creative capacity, an urge which is bolstered by a confident and calm inner constitution — a state akin to the pure impulsivity of a child. Unfortunately, we inevitably come to the conclusion that our nine-to-five “rat-race” lifestyles cannot accommodate such an impetus.
As the ineffectual feeling of imprisonment in our own lifestyle sets in, we begin to see that, embedded in this human experience is a feeling of lack, which, if left ignored and untreated can dilate into an overwhelming, albeit oddly subtle anxiety. An inexplicable discomfort within which the simple human flounders in his confidence and balances on the thin line between ecstasy and insanity. Discontented with his performance at work, judged by his superiors, bored at home, unhappily questioning the entirety of his purpose, we can easily see how existentialism came into being. If we could only learn to embrace the childlike qualities that lay within, often dormant and forced into repression by the constraints of adulthood. If only we could combat the seriousness of life, the mundanity of corporeality, the struggle of competition by remembering how to play, how to truly live, how to truly be present, these crises could very well be removed.