Walking in the Company of Children

I have a confession to make. This is hard, but here it is, straight from the proverbial horse’s mouth: I am a fast walker.

I can’t help it. My natural walking cadence is somewhere between fast and faster. And this has caused me problems.

Early in our relationship, my wife and I would go out for walks. While I was deeply enjoying the time with my beloved, she would frequently pull my hand back and ask: “Are you walking with me?” I would then apologize and adjust my speed to match her more leisurely pace. But, inevitably, about a block later my wife would have to pull me back, repeat her question, and we’d start the cycle all over again.

Eventually I learned to match my pace to hers, and my wife learned to take my pulling ahead with good humour. My “problem” also gave rise to the sharing of many funny stories with our friends. Amid the usual laughter I would often try to justify my speed walking. Typically, more laughter and teasing would follow . . . all in good fun, of course!

When our eldest started walking, though, she would stop at every unusal speck in the sidewalk, every dandelion, every brown leaf, every ant colony, every . . . well, you get the picture.

With all the stops, my inner walking metronome felt its gears grinding. Walks became occasions for grumpiness. I wanted to move, but my young, beautiful, and blessed child only wanted to see the wondrous ants, brown leaves, dandelions, and specks on the sidewalk.

So, I would inevitably become more and more impatient and agitated when out with my daughter. My wife, seeing this, would therefore gently (and sometimes not so gently) remind me: “The walk’s about the journey.”

The walk’s about the journey . . .

The walk’s about the journey . . .

In certain Christian circles, it is often said a person needs to have “the faith of a child.” Often this saying is accompanied by great sentimentality–pictures of Jesus surrounded by cherubic youngsters with the quote “let the little children come unto me” underneath, etc.

Unfortunately this idea has caused a lot of harm in religious circles. Sometimes it is interpreted to mean naïveté is a Christian virtue. A person must simply accept so-called “truths” at face value. By extension this also means anything beyond simple answers to complex questions betrays the fundamental principles of the Christian faith.

You probably know how I don’t interpret this idea!

Thinking of my own children, the phrase “no filters” comes to mind. Typically when we say someone has no filters, we’re saying, “whatever comes into so-and-so’s head comes out their mouth!” That’s one way to understand this idea.

Another way to understand it is to say, “This person is so open to the world around them, there are no filters on how they experience reality!”

Now that’s a different way to understand this idea!

Not suprisingly, this second understanding has big consequences for how I might engage life. This is true for me as a parent. It is also true for me as a person who sees religion and spirituality as paths toward integration, rather than paths toward fragmentation. Here’s how I see all this working . . .

This person is so open to the world around them, there are no filters on how they experience reality!

In the therapeutic world, there is increasing attention being given to developmental trauma. While the word trauma might give the impression of something extraordinary, developmental trauma happens every day. Basically it is trauma that occurs due to normal processes of human development.

A typical example of this kind of trauma occurs when weaning a child. For breastfed children, there is comfort and enjoyment in receiving their mother’s milk. Breastfeeding is one significant way children build secure attachments with their mothers.

However, when children transition to solid food, mothers will often behave differently when their children ask for breast milk. No longer will the breast be readily available. Instead, a mother might encourage her child to have solid food first and then offer her breast afterward.

Depending on how the mother handles this transition, children can find it traumatizing: they can experience it as breaking trust; it can undermine their attachment with their mother.

But, this transition is also necessary. A child cannot have breast milk forever. At some point they need to transition exclusively to solid food–their healthy development demands it. Yet, depending on the temperament of the child, in addition to the child’s relationship with their mother, both mother and child can experience trauma in weaning.

Now, as an adult, a mother can often counterbalance her trauma. She understands the transition to solid food is a natural and healthy part of her child’s development.

But a child does not yet have the cognitive capacity to understand how this transition is necessary. Prior to weaning, children mainly experience life through the deep emotional and physical bond with their mother. This physical bond experiences an initial severing at birth. It experiences further severing as the child becomes mobile. Weaning is another one of these severings.

The goal of all these severings is for the child to gain a sense of individual selfhood. As a child’s physical bond with their mother changes, so too does their emotional bond. When these transitions occur without difficulty, it means the child forms a secure sense of self. When there are difficulties in these transitions, there can be other long-term consequences. If these transitions are particularly traumatic, the longer-term consequenses can be quite negative.

The goal of all these severings is for the child to gain a sense of individual selfhood.

Regardless of whether these transitions are healthy or unhealthy, children use them to create filters through which they engage reality. This is a natural consequence of their growing physical and emotional distance from their mother.

Without their mother to buffer it, reality can be very overwhelming to a young child. Therefore their distance increases gradually, giving them time to build the filters they need to function more and more independently.

But all this healthy development comes at a cost. Spontaneity is often seen as healthy development’s casualty; creativity is often seen this way too. As children learn to place filters upon reality, their field of view narrows. Inevitably they have to discover that some things are simply “impossible.”

When approaching these changes and transitions through the lens of “having the faith of a child,” then, some interesting dynamics emerge.

While development means narrowing our view of reality on the one hand, spiritual health also means broading our view to see reality as an integrated whole.

While development means establishing distinct concepts and ideas to describe reality, spiritual health sees all these concepts and ideas as interconnected.

While development means gaining a sense of individual selfhood, spiritual health sees us as interconnected and interdependent with all other beings.

In light of these statements, having the faith of a child does not mean we are naïve; it does not mean we settle for simple answers to very complex issues. Rather, it means we use the filters we’ve established through our healthy development as vehicles to reconnect with parts of reality we’ve come to ignore.

No longer are our filters tools for distinction and differentiation. Instead, they become the means for connection and integration!

No longer are our filters tools for distinction and differentiation. Instead they become the means for connection and integration!

Philosophers, theologians, and spiritual writers describe this movement in various ways.

Some say this work of integration occurs in the second half of life, after we’ve spent the first half of life establishing our separate-self identity.

Some say this work of integration entails entering a “second naïveté” wherein we regain some of the wonder and innocence of childhood.

Some also say this is a return to Eden where we encounter again the paradise of an enchanted universe.

In my experience, all these things are true. But here’s the crucial piece:

It would not be possible for me to experience a second naïveté had I not lost the first one. It would not be possible for me to return to Eden had I not left and encountered the world in the first place.

Emotional and psychological development are crucial for any person’s healthy functioning in life. Therefore, my responsibility when encountering any person is to not limit, criticize, halt, or change wherever they’re at in their developmental journey.

As a parent, I cannot rush or accelerate my children’s development simply because I’m impatient and want to move. Rather, I can support and facilitate their development by nurturing healthy attachments with them, allowing the character of those attachments to grow and change as my children grow and change.

The same is true when I encounter other people at different stages of their spiritual journeys. I can accompany them for however long they need me, supporting and facilitating their need to grow and change by allowing myself to grow and change alongside them.

In this sense, then, we are all, always, walking in the company of children. All of us have our own cadence of development. All of us are at different stages of our developmental journeys.

As a result, out of a genuine desire to nurture and support, we can lovingly match our pace to those around us, gently and consistently reminding ourselves: “The walk’s about the journey.”

The walk’s about the journey.

None of this means we all need to be at the same stage of development. Yet it does mean we can recognize the childlikeness we all possess, treating one another gently and compassionately so we can all change and grow in ways most in keeping with our childlike nature.

_______________________

What curious creatures we are, leaving childhood only to return to it, changing and growing only to become what we were in the first place.

And so the journey continues.

Here’s to finding childhood late in life; here’s also to always ending in the place of all beginnings.

May your company be children of all ages. And may this company bring joy as you walk together for the sake of the journey.

Disclaimer: The advice and suggestions offered on this site are not substitutes for consultation with qualified mental or spiritual health professionals. The perspectives offered here are those of the author, not of those professionals with whom readers might have relationships as clients or patients. In crisis situations, readers are encouraged to contact these professionals for appropriate support and treatment if needed.