Chiron’s Children: Healing the Family Wound
Imprint vs impact. There is something inherently beautiful in observing the innocence of a child. The doe eye, curiosuity hidden within their playful smiles, is strong enough to draw in any unsuspecting human. They tend to add a splash of joy wherever they go even in their mischievous moments.
In society, we often hear sayings about how we should treat one another, like "Do unto others" and "You reap what you sow." Today, after cleaning my tub, I found myself reflecting on the impact people have on us and how their influence shapes our development throughout life. From each innocent step we take, are moulds are refined by our environments.
When my sister was just one year old, I accidentally dropped her while swinging her unbuckled car seat. She fell face down onto a bed of rocks in the church parking lot.
Frightened, I apologized for being careless with my infant sister, yelling, "I’m sorry!" But deep down, my sorrow was more for myself than for her. My intention to save me was greater than the potential harm I caused. I was scared of the consequences and the punishment I might face. My fear for my sister was secondary; I was unsure of the damage I had caused her.
She was so cute, smiling in her pretty black velvet dress, her hair pulled back into a puff with the rest falling neatly around it in a bushy yet curly afro. A bow sat atop her puff as she carefully observed her surroundings while I swung the car seat. When she slipped out, we immediately picked her up, dusted her off, and checked for any signs of injury. She seemed okay, and more importantly, she didn’t cry outwardly.
Fast forward a few years, and my sister had developed a noticeably deeper voice than the rest of us. She grew taller, and she had a happy, laid-back temperament. Nothing seemed to frighten her, nor did anything wipe the smile from her face. I can’t remember many times when she cried as a young child.
She would often suck her finger, much like a thumbsucker seeking comfort, mostly detached from people, living in her own world. This didn’t pose much of a problem, as our single mother didn’t have the energy to devote to extracurricular activities like most children desired. Mom was present and taught us many core beliefs that we still hold dear today. Our needs were always met—hot meals, clothes, schooling—Mom took care of it all. Caring for us was her love language, expressed through cleaning, cooking, and the sacrifices of her energy.
Mom had a sarcastic tongue at times, and we often found pleasure in her witty jokes, which were usually at someone else’s expense. It wasn’t too bad as long as it wasn’t your turn, but everyone got a turn eventually.
We learned to notice things about people and exploit them for a laugh. I remember when my ex-boyfriend wore his multicolored, name-brand Jirbeaux’s. My mom told me to tell him never to wear those "rainbow britches" again, or he wouldn’t be allowed in. This imprinted on how we related to each other and the world outside. It was all harmless, or so it seemed. I mentioned that my sister’s voice was deeper than ours, and we would mimic her voice whenever quoting something she said. Back then, it didn’t seem like a big deal. However, you never know the impact you have on a person. She would just laugh and never say anything, always smiling, with her finger in her mouth for comfort.
Years later, my sister became a teen mom. Even then, she remained laid-back and even-tempered. Some judgment came with this, and we, as we had learned, made jokes and comments. This behavior of teasing each other had become second nature, ingrained in us by our upbringing. But the truth is, we never see the full impact of our actions. My sister, while still loving us, would occasionally display moments of disconnection. I didn’t realize at the time that being empathetic played a role in how I related to people in this manner, but over time, I began to sense her deeper emotions. I started to examine my behavior, especially regarding this beautiful person. What did she come to teach me? How much of her pain was hidden behind that smile? And more importantly, how long had it been there?
This moment of deep reflection, prompted me to also look within the constructs of other relationships, what was hidden in plain sight?
Could she have been in pain the day I dropped her, but her subconscious created a smile and silence as a coping mechanism? How many other times did she cope as we continued our behavior through the years?
One day, while at the nail shop with my sister, she was talking to me about little things, but something inside me wanted to know more about her. There was a nagging feeling that something was bothering her, something she had never spoken about. I asked her to share a part of her astrological chart with me, and as I read deeper into it, I came across her Chiron placement. Chiron is known as the wounded healer, teaching us to overcome personal pains, shortcomings, and grievances through self-healing. In the story of Chiron, his afflictions left him impaired, and in order to heal, he was transformed into a centaur—half horse, half human. This transformation, though painful, enabled Chiron to continue his work.
Upon examining her chart, I realized that part of her life journey was to overcome the ridicule and criticisms that came from family and childhood. The chart indicated that certain experiences would have a long-term impact on her, but she could overcome the imprinted messages placed upon her in her early years.
I immediately felt sorrow because I knew I had been a part of that suffering. Yet, despite it all, she always offered me a smile, compassion, and love. She never returned evil for evil. While not everyone may have to learn the same lessons, that day, I learned more than I ever realized. I learned about the impact of my actions and the imprints they leave on us, far beyond our time with others. These interactions become catalysts for exponential growth for all parties, as we learn more about ourselves through the behaviors we perpetuate.
To think that I could have perhaps offered kinder words to my sister when she first became a teen mom, that might have opened up the avenue for her to feel safe and guided in her parenting. This impact could have created a stronger bond between her and her child. Perhaps those initial judgments, the criticisms that said, "You’re doing it wrong," are the reasons she withdrew. Or perhaps it was the inability to see the pain behind the smile, and instead, letting things settle like the dusty rocks she encountered from that first swing in the car seat.
Either way, I challenge you all to look over your shoulder, briefly engage with the part of you where those lasting imprints are still impacting your life. Today, take a chance to engage with them, and encourage yourself to see life through a new narrative.
Eve