I think I've mentioned a quote by a well-known psychoanalyst named Marion Woodman: "the divine child is always an orphan".
There is a quality about being human that carries with it a sense of being unique in this world. And being unique also means being different at the deepest levels.
I felt that way most of my life has a child with a learning disability who did poorly in school, later as an adolescent who was silently molested by his teacher, and still later as I struggled to get into college. I always felt different, but I always hoped that if I did things differently, I wouldn't feel different anymore. And then when I broke my neck, I realized that would never change no matter what I did. Many months of despair and depression followed that profound sense of being alone. And then there came a sense of freedom as I explored what it meant to be human. What makes us unique and what makes us different?
This business of being alone is something that can cause excruciating pain, and can also be the birthplace of great creativity. So, like Marion Woodman says-that spiritual child inside of all of us is an orphan. And some of us are conscious of that. And some of those who are conscious of it are in excruciating pain. And those who are fortunate enough to have made peace with it, understand that although we are orphans, we are living in a very rich and interesting orphanage!
I post the following poem below with permission
Karle Wilson Baker
God said,
Say, "We";
But I shook my head,
Hid my hands tight behind my back, and said,
Stubbornly, I said
"I."
God said,
Say, "We",
But I looked upon them, grisly and all awry.
Myself in all those twisted shapes? Ah, no!
Distastefully I turned my head away,
Persisting,
"They."
God said,
Say, "We";
But I held my distance. I would not join.
Carelessly and arrogantly I rejected my place
With my people.
God said,
Say, "We";
And I
At last
Richer by a hoard
Of years
And tears
Looked in their eyes and found the heavy word
That bent my neck and bowed my head;
Like a shamed child then I mumbled low,
"We,
God."