Paradise Lost: The experience of disillusionment for the child/inner child

The topic of disillusionment seems to be coming up a lot for me these days, as a mom to an almost 9-year-old, as a therapist, and as an adult woman consciously walking the path of healing my own inner 9-year-old. Disillusionment is defined as the absence of illusion, or a feeling of disappointment resulting from the discovery that something is not as good as one believed it to be. Anthroposophical philosopher Rudolph Steiner put forth the idea that, much like Adam and Eve being banished from paradise, there is a "waking up" (sometimes a rude awakening) and a "fall from grace" that occurs in a child between the ages of 8 and 10 years old. In anthroposohy, the term for it is "the 9 year change."

At this time of life, children are becoming more embodied (literally, inhabiting their bodies) and grounded in the realities of the world around them, rather than floating in the imaginal realms of early childhood. In making that shift, the child experiences great inner turmoil. This is an age where a child may lose interest in toys that used to be fun for them, feeling (and acting) torn between toddler behavior and teenage behavior -- trying on both sides. At this age, children question the existence of beings like Santa Claus and the tooth fairy, and even the idea of magic itself. This is the age where they begin to see that their parents are not the superheroes they once believed, but mere fallible mortal beings who make mistakes -- and that can be a huge let down. This is the time when children are waking up to their sense of self in relation to the world around them, and trying to find where they fit. They may feel they can depend only on themselves, and anxiety becomes a dominant emotion. They may be quietly tuning into their inner world for the first time, and perhaps experiencing their own shadow side freshly.

Some common markers of this transition can include irritability, hypersensitivity, fickleness, difficulty falling asleep, fears of the dark/crime/intruders/death, spontaneous emotional releases (sobbing, yelling, hitting, tantrums,) feeling like the world is not fair, feeling isolated, self-conscious, and unloveable. Children begin testing their parents, as closest people to them, to make sure they will still be loved even when they show their darker sides and express anger, sadness, jealousy, neediness, hatred, and mischievousness. Psychosomatic symptoms are very common during this time - common ones being heart palpitations, headaches, and breathing problems. Nightmares can become more frequent and vivid, often involving being chased, robbed, in an accident, fire, or even being murdered. Ideas of right and wrong and of evil and death come to the forefront. They expect honesty and authenticity from everyone, especially from themselves.

Traumas or wounds that can really go deep at this age are ones involving lies, mixed messages, verbal abuse, criticism, not being allowed to "talk back," only getting praise or affection when being a "good girl" or "good boy," or being within a family system where there is a cycle of addiction (the "don't talk, don't trust, don't feel" unspoken rule.)

Overlaying anthroposophy's concept of the "9 year change" with other developmental models in psychology, this time correlates to the development of the fifth chakra (expressing one's truth,) Freud's latency period, Piaget's concrete operational period, Erikson's "Industry vs inferiority" period, Maslow's self-actualization stage, Wilber's middle egoic personic stage, and the conscious self stage of psychosynthesis.

Acknowledging and having compassion for the struggle at this (and every!) stage of development is key for a therapist, a parent, and a human being living on the earth with fellow human beings. I am a woman with a rich connection to my own inner 9-year-old and a mother currently parenting a small human being through this time. Even though I'm a therapist who works exclusively with adult clients in my practice, every adult brings their inner child into the room with them in some way. If there was wounding around this stage of a person's development, the therapist may serve as the "magical stranger" (as its known in the Hakomi method) providing the experience that was missing in this person's childhood, or the therapist could be called upon to "reparent" this younger part and/or aid a client in reparenting their own younger self, meeting needs that were not met in childhood. In doing so, the therapist may more directly dance in realms of transference and projections of the fallible parent, and take on the feelings of not being good enough, open enough, understanding enough, or giving enough. As always, the therapist's own mindfulness of their body, experiences, and triggers (in and out of session) and processing their own countertransference (outside of session) are ethically imperative to the work.

So, what do the 9-year-olds inside of us and out among us need? They need to know they are lovable unconditionally - no matter what emotions or behavior they display. They crave for their feelings and experiences to be validated. They need a solid, confident, care-giving presence who consistently and warmly enforces rules and boundaries. They need to see love, unity, and community modeled for them in the midst of their isolated feelings. They need a private space of their own (children at this age are often are moved to create forts and other shelters to burrow into.) This is a stage where children want to feel capable, so giving them the ability to do very useful, productive things for themselves helps them feel like they belong and are safe in the world. Even in wanting more independence, self-sufficiency, and privacy, it's important for children to feel warmth, connection, and support from adults nearby (but not hovering adults...)

You see, the line the adults walk (tiptoe?) around this is a delicate one.  We won't and can't always get it right, but we can own our mistakes and in doing so, model honesty, humanness, and humility. In doing so, we can become a different sort of superhero, one who is accessible and relatable and on the ground instead of admired while soaring far up in the sky.

Personally and professionally, my heart is cracked wide open around the issues involved in this crucial time of personal growth. One of my favorite poets, Billy Collins, really captures the essence of the 9 year change in this poem:

On Turning Ten

The whole idea makes me feel

Like I’m coming down with something,

Something worse than any stomach ache

Or the headaches I get from reading in bad light –

A kind of measles of the spirit,

A mumps of the psyche,

A disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.

You tell me it is to early to be looking back,

But that is because you have forgotten

The perfect simplicity of being one

And the beautiful complexity introduced by two.

But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit,

At four I was an Arabian wizard.

I could make myself invisible

By drinking a glass of milk a certain way.

At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.

But now I am mostly at the window

Watching the late afternoon light.

Back then it never felt so solemnly

Against the side of my tree house,

And my bicycle never leaned against the garage

As it does today,

All the dark blue speed drained out of it.

This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,

As I walk through the universe in my sneakers.

It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,

Time to turn the first big number.

It seems only yesterday I used to believe

There was nothing under my skin but light.

If you cut me I would shine.

But now when I fall upon the sidewalk of life,

I skin my knees, I bleed.

If you'd like to read more on the 9 year change, here are a couple useful places to start:

• The Parenting Passageway: Anthroposophical perspective of the 9 year change

• The Parenting Passageway: Resources for the 9 year change

Simple ways to use oracle cards

If you're seeking a quick, fun, and meaningful way to look inward, working with oracle cards could be an enriching practice for you. The simple act of choosing a card (or a few cards) is an immediate way to invite self-reflection, whether you are starting your day, pondering a lingering question in your life, or invoking nighttime dreams. Oracle cards generally come grouped into a deck, and they can provide us with insight into our innermost questions -- not from some outside source, rather from our inner wisdom used in deciphering their message. Tarot cards are one well-known example of an oracle card deck, though there are many other types. You don't need to be a professional tarot reader, a shaman, a believer of woo-woo, or anything other than exactly who you are to make oracle cards part of your practice. All you need is a favorite deck (or you can even create a deck yourself using your own art and/or images cut from magazines.) A few of my favorite oracle card decks I keep around my studio are pictured below, and many can be purchased via the Amazon affiliate carousel at the bottom of this post.

Ways I like to use my oracle cards:

• At the start of my morning
• To set intentions for my week, placed upon my altar or around the house as a visual reminder
• For clients to draw at the begining of therapy to arrive into the sacred space and set the tone for the session
• As creative writing or journaling prompts
• For help in answering a question that I'm mulling over (because the reflecting on the image requires me to go deeply inward and inquire from my true, core self.)
• Before bedtime, to close my day or invoke/inquire into my nighttime dreams
• To mark special occasions, like my birthday, new years, or the beginning of a project
• To mark a transition, like a move, a new job, a birth, a death, a relationship beginning or ending

How-to and prompts:

Once you have a deck you like, get a feel for it. Hold the deck in your hands, shuffle it gently, cut the cards - do whatever you'd like. While you are holding the cards, think of a question you'd like to ask. It can be as simple as: "What do I need in this moment?" or "What will this day bring?" You can fan them out or stack them. Using your intuition, pull a card from the deck. (Sometimes a card will fall on the floor as you shuffle - that's usually your card.)

After you pull a card, study it closely. If you have a deck of words (like the Angel card or Blesssing card decks in the carousel below) or phrases on the card (like the Shambhala deck or Danielle LaPorte's Truthbomb deck,) then see how/if this word or phrase could apply to your life.

If your deck is comprised of cards with images, really look at the card you pull. What is pictured? What colors are used? Is there movement or stillness? Is there a person(s) present? Are there animals? Which natural elements stand out: fire, water, earth, air? Simply describe what you see. (We art therapists call the practice of just describing what you see "the phenomenological approach to the image" - fancy huh?) Describing form/the image leads to content/the meaning.

Now it's time to let your mind free-associate and play! Does your card remind you of anything or anyone in your life? Could it apply to the question you asked as you shuffled? What do the words or colors or shapes mean to you? (i.e.; "yellow reminds me of the sun and happiness" or "owls make me think of nighttime and wisdom" or "the word 'patience' is such medicine for me right now.") At this point, you may choose to make notes in your journal. If your card comes with a booklet describing the images (as tarot cards and other decks often do,) you might choose to then add this collective wisdom into your own personal reflections. Though, I'd recommend saving the booklet for last so as not to cloud your intuitive hunches.

You might also pull 3 cards in a row, representing 1) Who I was, 2) Who I am, and 3) Who I will become. You can get creative about what sets of cards can mean, or you can consult the booklet that comes with your deck to see what types of readings are recommended.

This practice can be infused with any energy you give it: light, fun, sacred, deep, meditative, inspiring... and the best part is that you can connect with yourself and your inner voice in under 5 minutes when engaging in oracle card reading. Trust the process.

The Saturn Return (aka: Why the late 20s are a beast!)

One of the most profound periods of my adult life thus far was my late twenties - a time when I stepped more concretely into the woman I am becoming, but not without turbulence, hardship, and a fair amount of freaking out. All are characteristic of what is known as the Saturn Return. In my practice, I enjoy working with women as they undergo this important, rich, and often difficult transitional time of life. So, what's Saturn got to do with the internal earthquakes of the late 20s? Here's just a bit of astrology and mythology: Saturn takes 29.5 years to make one orbit around the sun (because it's so far out there,) and each time Saturnreturns to the spot it inhabited at the time of your birth, it is typical to feel your own mortality and the anxiety of being an adult. In myth, Saturn represents the Father archetype, the God of the harvest, God of time/aging, bringer of periodic renewal and change.

Between the ages of 27 and 31, you are close to your first Saturn Return. You are likely feeling the ripples of Saturn returning if things are feeling chaotic, your romantic relationships are shifting, your friendships are changing, you are having issues with your parents, you are questioning your career, and perhaps questioning your purpose in this planet. In the socially sanctioned Western culture, the twenties constitute college, and maybe graduate school, and then an effort to apply one's college major to join the work force -- harvesting and reaping what you've sewn. This is a decade that, for many women, can feel like trying on costumes to see what fits -- changing jobs, relationships, locations, clothing, identities. It is a time that can be both exciting and confusing - full of experimentation, risk-taking, openness, discovery, and heart-opening heartache.

The first Saturn Return is a marker for independence from our families of origin, or our parents and siblings. This is a period when one is often estranged from the external support systems of childhood, finding strength in one's own wings after leaving the nest. Relationships to one's family is often in a transitional state because at this stage, we are finding our adult footing and identity. Some are creating and growing families of their own at this age, with new sets of rhythms and rules. Then when re-entering the childhood home at this age, we are often expected to behave in the set role in the family that we inhabited in childhood -- a story that may no longer fit or serve who we are. Family relationships have the opportunity to be challenged and reestablished during this time.

At this stage women are often taking inventory of romantic relationships, feeling the pressures from past generations to couple up and procreate by the age of thirty. As Saturn is the archetypal, universal symbol for Father, often women will look deeply into issues they may have around their own father during this period, and to the masculine energies we've attracted into in our lives, perhaps in an unconscious attempt to heal the father relationship.

The planet Saturn is associated with aging and mortality, and this is often our first awakening to our time clock ticking down. External influences regarding an "acceptable timeline of adulthood" have often been internalized and plays out in some way --  whether it's embracing the idea of this timeline, rejection of the suggestion, fear that it's not happening, foraging a new path proudly, etc. (Yes, men feel the Saturn Return too, but social impositions are different for men at this stage.) Some of why this time period can be so difficult is that there's a cultural (American) pressure that one "should" have their adult sh*t together by this point. And shoulding oneself is the opposite of self-compassion, so this can feel rather icky to face.

The planet Saturn is the instigator of change. Often there is a crisis at this life stage that puts you face-to-face with your fears, allowing you to unplug from that which is not really YOU (imposed by family, society, or some other outside force or voice) and to then find your true course in adulthood. We are all born with the inner knowing of who we are - we have internal compasses guiding us, but we meander and get lost when we follow the directions given by others. The Saturn Return can be a time to tune back into yourself and get back on a course that feels right with your spirit.

Many of us will get to do this again around age 57-60, and perhaps a third time between 86-89 years old, but rest-assured, the first time around is generally the most arduous. The first Saturn Return is a prime opportunity to forage your uniquely beautiful path into your awakened, connected, and authentic adult life.