Losing and regaining innocence
I’m going to put forward an idea: you don’t lose your innocence the way you think you do.
If you see kids bullying each other, they’re losing innocence. You see kids taking what’s not theirs? They’re losing innocence. You see a kid with no spark of light in his eyes? He’s lost his innocence.
And I think you can also regain innocence. A bully might apologize and regain some innocence. I saw an old man at church. The wrinkles in his face were like cracks in a vase from which light shone through—his eyes wet, but kind. He was broken, but what broke was not him, but the image he may have had of himself, or the tight grip he had over something he thought he could control.
Of course, sexual innocence is one of the most precious kinds to guard. And kids can lose it when they’re taken advantage of, or exposed to things they’re not supposed to see. And then they repress it. They don’t want anyone to see them as damaged goods.
Kids can lose a part of it when they’re exposed to adult lust, and to a smaller extent when they see a homeless person on the street going through a psychotic episode. Something is off, and everyone tries to pretend they didn’t see it. Coldness and insensitivity to someone’s struggles results in a loss of innocence. Spiteful parents can do it. It’s when someone doesn’t see you as a person with a heart, but as a nurse with a job, a soldier with a duty, a man with money, or a woman with a nice body. Even your personality can be objectified and ultimately disconnected from humanity.
There’s a spiritual lightness that some people have. It’s not just good vibes. It’s innocence. They’re not just going with the flow. When they see you, they’re not just experiencing photons hitting their retina. When they hear you, it’s more than a pressure wave brushing against the tiny hairs in their ears and then handed off to a fleshy neural network for processing. Innocence is when you hear the sound of a crying child, and your heart sinks—and for a split second—you’re the crying child.