Thursday September 2, 2004

I was recently talking to a friend about innocence.  I told him that I thought I had lost my innocence at the age of 30.  Most people would think that’s an advanced age to lose your innocence.  I mourned that loss.  It physically hurt me and I actually felt the loss for several years.

I’m not talking about my sexuality or my belief in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy.  I’m talking about my beliefs in the human spirit, in the beauty of every day, in the magic of our lives.

As we’ve been talking, I’ve discovered that perhaps I didn’t lose my innocence.  Perhaps I tucked it away so it wouldn’t be damaged as much, so it wouldn’t be totally removed from me.  I’ve found that parts of my innocence are being unearthed lately.  There are parts of me that are delighting in the way the sunlight hits the dew in the early mornings and I can imagine fairies dancing amongst the flowers.  There are parts of me, especially when I look into the faces of my beloved niece and nephews, where I believe anything is possible.  There are no limits to what we, as humans can do, can be, can believe, can dream.

I love that part of me.  It’s beautiful and sweet and tender and joyous.

Auguries of Innocence

-- William Blake