Number 2, I see you

I want to start with a book. Donald Kalshed’s Trauma and the Soul. Kalshed is what in the parlance is called a “Jungian.”

The book is a respectful exploration of fractured souls. Souls that broke themselves apart when exposed to trauma by way of what he calls, (self) protection. I have encountered these ideas before in the shamanic process of soul retrieval and I am moved by the parallel language. What follows is a personal reflection on that.

So, back to Kalshed. In exploring his topic he draws in Jung’s own life and in part the concept he called his No. 2 personality. Jung’s no. 1 personality was the young boy that grew up with his parents and was the child they needed him to be, his no. 2 was more his real “self” the one that chose to separate and stay hidden. His childhood was one that included many of what we would call today ACEs (Adverse Childhood Experiences). His no. 2 fractured away at that time to protect itself, to a silent safer realm.

Kalshed talks about this the unconscious act of the soul’s self-care system. In presenting that authentic version of the self it would have brought risk upon the being at both a physical and a soul level.

Where’s my Mum

So Kalshed’s book has a deep resonance for me. I was adopted from birth. Like many adopted children I was brought up from a place of love and best intention. My parents were brilliant and I always knew. I know my birth-mother now and she is lovely (but that is for another story). Physical adoption, particularly from birth is now recognised as a significantly traumatic event for the child. It is born and expects to continue its existence alongside, and nourished by, the body that it has been growing within. But that is then broken, without explanation and at a time where it is impossible to rationalise for the child. It remains an unresolved loss.

Regardless how much adult love is in the act of adoption it is not that way for the child. And even as a parent I can barely get my head around how painful the act of giving up the child must be. My birth-mother has shared some of that with me. But I cannot know the feeling.

From whenever I can remember though I there has been a lost part of me. That hidden child that I might escape to, but that is never brought to the surface, that never has a will or free voice. Kalshed talks in case study after case study of these “lost” inner children, and of course of Jung’s. To read of this is so empowering.

I think about the many ways that this separation has damaged me, particularly in my relations I have with others. I always expect to be rejected and will often reject people that care about me to avoid their rejection. I often skulk in the shadow of work where it serves as a proxy for love.

But this is not about skulking in my shadows.

I see you no 2

My later adult life has become about rebuilding that connection. As shamans say retrieving that lost fractured part of my soul. I have been able to acknowledge it for a few years now. But it is only now that I feel I am starting to bring it back home. Through a lot of self-work and attentive caring friends have made this journey possible.

In mindfulness there is a concept that aligns to conscious awareness, we can develop this to an level of objectivity such that we become “equanimous.” In our equanimity we can sit with things without the overwhelm and suffering that the human condition too often pours upon things.

Equanimity has created a space where I have been able to turn and face no 2 (as Jung might have said). To acknowledge that it is part of me, not some demon. A part that no longer needs to be protected, a part of me that has a voice and deserves the space to express itself.

In my 60th year my life is changing in so many ways – this blog is an important acknowledgement and very public sharing is part of that. This blog is about giving the lost child a voice. Kalshed’s book shone a very powerful light on this for me, if in no other way than it has shown me that I am not alone. None of us are. But sometimes it can feel that way.

I have the strength now to face what I spent a life-time running from and that means a lot.

For my generation

I wanted to share this for all the adopted adults out there (of my generation). Adoption is a much better understood process now. 60 years ago it was a brutal process, it shamed the young women, traumatised children and left open wounds all over the place. Whilst loving and compassionate adopted parents were often left not quite being able to reach the emotional depths of their charges. The fracturing at birth left for so many an unresolved hole, fractured souls!

For those of you of my age and experience I do recommend Kalshed’s book, but I also recommend Mark Steel’s “Who do I think I am?” which tells of his adoption in the 1960’s and his journey to find his birth parents and family. He tells it with characteristic laugh out loud humour (though some may need to see past his politics). It was a wonderful breath of fresh air for me. There is a catharsis in understanding that others' might share our experience.

At the end of the day that which we do not accept leaves us in a state of conflict. And when that non-acceptance is within our-self, we end up in conflict with ourselves. Never a good place to be.

*I do not own the cover photo from this blog.