“The child knows a natural reverie of solitude which we must not confuse with that of the sulky child. In his happy solitude, the dreaming child experiences cosmic reverie – that reverie which unites us with the world.” Gaston Bachelard, “The Alchemy of Imagination,” in On Poetic Imagination and Reverie, pg. 96
In my work with at-risk teens it’s an interesting problem. Often the behaviors that manifest are either skewed toward seeking attention at any cost or they swing dangerously toward an isolation that is unhealthy. Finding comfort with the solitude of childhood is a door that seems to have been nailed shut.
Bachelard’s portrait of happy solitude gives us an image of the sought after attitude. It fleshes out the gospel saying “unless you become like a child” and can open our eyes to that beautiful occurrence if we stumble upon it.
If my son is in the next room playing, I do my best not to shatter his imaginative space. Instead, if a transition is needed to some different event, I honor the activity underway. Though a few questions I get the lay of his imaginative landscape before placing any demands for moving on to a new situation.
Allowing for a staged release is not easy. The imagination is always ready to pop like a bubble, essentially denying its existence. This has been a huge challenge for me as an adult. Often when waking in the morning, the demands of the day consume my attention before I’m able to process the hypnogogic imagery that wishes to tie consciousness to the previous night’s dreams.
So much of what we find ourselves up against are collective defenses that have gone into forming ego consciousness over the millennia. The way forward paradoxically requires incorporating a piece we discarded. In the end, it’s about living in a manner that honors the imaginal realm.
dormant geyser
When visiting Yellowstone a month ago, amidst the spectacular phenomena I experienced, it was some of the minor features I came across that impacted me the most. I posted about Isa Lake immediately. But when this image resurfaced in my dream last night, I realized that I needed to explore why it struck me as important.
First of all, it’s most likely misnamed. Perhaps dormant steam vent would be more accurate, I’m not really sure. What grabbed me was of a mythical nature. While the various features that made up Norris Geyser Basin where bubbling and spurting sulfuric water and vapors, this passageway down to the depths, a portal to the underworld of sorts, might be traversed (if only in the imagination).
At root here is the archetype of initiation, and as I begin a new chapter in my life it’s helpful to be mindful of the various expressions the this archetype constellates in our life. In our separate journeys toward meaning, finding our individual access to source is in many ways more important then any treasure that might be waiting for us.
Playing with shells and water
Jeb asked a great question in the comments which I felt the need to elaborate more on:
“What do you do, Richard, to encourage the imaginal in your children? Is it just a matter of letting them think/feel/believe what their young minds naturally do? Without imposing the limits of society on them (“oh stop it, that’s not possible, you can’t do that, that’s not realistic”)? Or is there a more proactive approach?”
My sense is that there are many things that can be done, but the most important is providing a holistic environment that moderates the overly rational knee jerk reaction that says “no way!” every time the child formulates an idea or expression that does not quite seem to fit with everyday reality. (It’s kind of funny, isn’t it? The scientific mind frame now perpetuates the same type of tyranny and violence upon the imaginal as the religious mind frame that attacked it when early discoveries undermined the prevailing world view.)
So what can be done?
1. Allow dreams to be acceptable topics of discussion at the table. My response to Jeb in the comments included: The easiest is to have casual discussions at the breakfast table revolving around the previous nights dreams (if the content is appropriate that is). These conversations send the message that the images left by the unconscious in the margins of consciousness have value and are to be honored. I’ve found that the unconscious responds to our intent here by providing suitable, fairy tale like dreams.
2. Go on journeys where the inquisitiveness of the child determines the route. This can occur in museums or out in the woods. Tidal flats along the ocean are fabulous.
3. When playing, do your best to enter into the imaginary world the child has erected, adhering to the specific rules they see fit.
4. Read myths and fairy tales from around the world together.
5. Find an appropriate balance with the consumeristic world of toys and games. that is targeting them. These products tend to fill in all the gaps without allowing the imaginative faculty to strengthen. Note, in the image above, our daughter’s favorite pastime this summer has been playing with shells and about an inch of water in that small bucket out on our deck.
6. Immerse children in the imagery of art history reaching back to the cave art, so they can build up a catelog of imagery that is not limited to the peculiar “marketing” imagery of our day.
7. This takes a bit more foresight, but devise situations where the child can discover you at play. Imagine how surprised the child will be if when asking the question “what are you doing?” the answer is not bills, chores, etc., but instead “I’m imagining that these little marks I’m drawing in the sand along the lake are mighty rivers.” (Jung spent hours creating rivulets with a stick until the end of his life whenever visiting his lake side retreat). This of course requires an understanding of the value of play for our adult healthy mindedness.
8. Share imaginal visions handed down through all traditions: Elijah, Black Elk, Jung, etc.
9. Cherish opportunities for family campfires…they are a shared primordial experience.
10. Playdoh; paper, sissors and tape; sidewalk chalk; the sand box.
11. Caring for plants and animals, both provide an interesting reciprocation of being beyond the parameters of the human for the child’s psyche.
12. Discover geography (earth writing) together, not in regards to political maps, but more along the lines of watersheds and divides. Puddles as lakes, vines as jungles…How does the water flow through your terrain? Where does it come from and where is it going? Once the rain falls off the roof, where does it go?
13. Encourage journaling of any kind, in images, lists, audio recording…blogs.
14. Don’t rush to fill in all the blanks…not knowing is OK. But it takes a developed negative capability.
"eyes of the world"
(for those looking for more material, searching reverie and imaginal on this blog offers some further reading along these lines.)
Ben playing in the grass
So my first thought when I looked up from my pitchfork full of hay was, “I asked him to help me a few minutes ago, what is he doing?” The second thought: “Man, that’s gonna itch.” Then finally I broke free from the inner critic and saw what was before me with open eyes.
A boy at play, lost in his imagination, perhaps pursuing an Imperial tie fighter in a Star Wars battle. More likely he was riding the back of a mythical creature. The first words to came out of his mouth once the spell was broken were “you know, a basilisk can turn you to stone like the Medusa if it looks you in the eye and you look back.” I could have asked, but I’ve come to respect the sanctity of the imaginal realm that he can so freely engage.
There’s certain positions and postures that seem a prerequisite to have a thought like that. Kids know them all. Kids know summer.
Perspective
Creativity in the Wild
The Matter of Faith