The danger of walking into a story that wasn’t written for you, is that – you either assume the role or discover that the part really was written for you. Sort of that “Bake your noodle” concept from the Oracle.
Anywhoo, I walked into Neverland last February. First star on the right and straight on till morning. Little did I know that I had just stumbled onto an archetypal nest that hasn’t been seen in years.
The lost boys.
Also, little did I know, once you are in Neverland you cannot go home. And if perchance you find a way back to the safety of the real world – you will never again be welcomed by the lost boys.
This dynamic has been catching me in all sorts of turmoil. Logic fails and I chase my tail in circles. Being around the Lost Boys is alternately exhilarating and painful – painful because to watch them is to feel a sadness at how badly they stunt one another’s growth. Enablers.
Quite simply – they cannot leave Neverland, because without them the fantasy will die. They have webbed so tightly to each other’s energy that none are willing to grow up – because they cannot leave the others behind.
As I put this analogy out to a couple of friends and explained my pain/joy of being in Neverland both friends blurted out – so I guess that makes you Wendy.
Suddenly, a problem that his been bothering me for months, condensed into a pinpoint of light and all my emotional roller-coastering made perfect sense.
I am a storyteller. It’s how I relate to the world. It’s how I make sense of the paradox that is life. So I sat down with a pen and paper and began to note this strange tale. Because I firmly believe that stories carry the archetypal myths and imprints that are entirely relatable to current life and that is why they have stayed around in culture for decades and sometimes centuries.
This will be a long post but if you are trapped in the web that is called Chance of Rain, please bear with me and I’ll see if I can help make sense of the toxic lure of Neverland. Allow me to shed light on the metaphor.
Who is Peter Pan? Currenlty, all the Lost Boys are Peter Pan – and yet none of them are. That is partially what makes them so dangerous. They have no clear leadership. Peter Pan was by all accounts a child, but a child with the ability to direct – and the Lost Boys followed.
There is no Peter Pan in this tale of Neverland. Ultimately, this is what also creates the energy from the Lost Boys for a need of leadership, nurturing and if you are a woman trapped in this web – MOTHERING.
Upon landing in Neverland last year, I felt the draw the joy and the desire to be a part of the band of Lost Boys. However, I was also repulsed at the same time for their youth and ideas had peaked the top of their self-made bubble and there would be no room for me to grow. That being said, they gave off a youthful and misdirected energy that appealed to my inner nurturer.
I fell into a role that I didn’t recognize until late last night. A role that I believe many women have fallen into unconsciously, believing it to be infatuation or love or sexual attraction (because it is deeply engaging and powerful). It is also toxic and energetically depleting.
The role of Mother/guide/rescuer.
It is entirely understandable. It is in my nature to see a need and try to fill it. It is in my relationship ability to shape-shift to fit a gap and although Mothering is not in my archetypes I do have the capacity and I do occasionally attempt to be the rescuer.
Once I made the connection I picked apart the story of Peter Pan and discovered that every character in the Café is in fact a part of the greater story as it re-enacts itself in the heart of south east Portland.
There is a Neverland. Six lost boys (to the letter even one in the book is dressed as a Bunny – no guessing who that one is…) There is a Tink. A Tiger Lily. A Captain Hook and Smee. There is no Peter Pan but there are – quite literally DOZENS of Wendy’s. There is even a clock and a crocodile.
Funnier still, each Wendy has picked out a lost boy she believes to be Peter and has attached herself to him in an attempt to provide the sort of energy he seems to need. Myself included.
When I first decided to get to know the Lost Boys and learn all I could about them in order to understand the strange pull I couldn’t put logic to I could find them each – individually beautiful. I am a people watcher and finding that beauty is easy. The thing that makes it all the more difficult for me is this: because they all are – individually blossoming into men, because they are inherently individuals with dreams separate from Neverland, separate from the tribe of Lost Boys. I can see their potential to go out into the world as fully aware men and wreak havoc on a scale of such tremendous and glorious change that I applaud it and cheer it then I watch them return to the tribe and their identity is subsumed by Neverland and their dreams are relinquished for the tribe and they are slowly, painfully, dying inside. Bitterness is turning their boyish good looks into early wrinkles, and the shine in their eyes dim into projected judgments. Which strangely, reinforces the need to be a member of the tribe therefore validating all the choices they have made – because misery loves company.
The kicker is, that apart from the tribe they are creative and talented and charming.
Where does this all fit? If you are one of the dozens of Wendy’s – ask yourself why you think you can save him. Ask yourself if you think you can help him grow up or if you are lured in because you too want to be young forever. Ask yourself if you can truly give in to the dynamic archetype of mothering a lost boy forever without losing yourself to the constant neediness and the shifty personality of someone who wants but does not want.
They can fly, and they are good at taking you with them. But they will only ever fly as far as their own glass bubble. They will only ever fly to the limits of Neverland, because beyond the limits of Neverland they must grow up. They must age. Without them Neverland will die.
For me, the story has reached a climax. I now understand my desire to be included – I was after all, not mothered either and I found solidarity in the cluster of Lost Boys that felt like it was a sustainable energy of mutually exclusive nurturing. I needed even wanted that. I wanted to be young and playful and without responsibility.
But I also eventually began to feel trapped. I wanted out of Neverland, but the Mother in me didn’t want to leave them behind. I realized I was making subtle attempts to teach/reach/guide and nurture. I picked my Peter and wanted him to be able to fly into the real world and become a man.
Selfishly I think I wanted him to be a man so I could be his woman, but I also know that once the mother and puer eternis (boy eternal) have engaged – the dynamic is set in stone and can not ever be concluded in a healthy relationship. It’s a rescuing relationship and empowerment of the lesser individual is rarely ever achieved.
So I find myself writing this blog about my adventures in Neverland. I went in one night and came out nearly a year later. I feel like I’ve had a long sleep and that I haven’t aged for a whole year. I feel like I’ve come home and discovered everything is as I left it, and my spirit had a chance to regain a part of my misplaced childhood – but I am ready to be a woman. I am ready to turn thirty and grow old with someone and have adventures of a different sort. I’m ready to have a relationship with a man who is capable of maturing with me, aging with me. I want a relationship with a man to whom I do not need to be a mother. He is independent and self-sufficient. He does not need a tribe to feel a sense of place or purpose. He does not need a bubble to keep him safe from life. He is powerful enough to venture forth – even if it scares him and make his imprint on the world – good or bad or indifferent, he will try anyway.
I want a man not a boy who thinks he is a man, and therefore I must be willing to be a woman. Not a girl who thinks she is a woman. Not a mother who is looking for validation in a puer eternis.
My adventure in Neverland will be thought upon fondly. I will visit the Lost Boys from time to time and find joy in their young lives. But I choose freedom. I choose to relinquish my Wendy role to girls who want it more than I do. I relinquish my part as a nurturer to those who will pursue it with vigor and passion and who are too young to know it will eventually drain them dry. Let them have it – my life, my destiny is waiting for me.
I hereby shape-shift from the darkness, from the first star on the right, to fly straight home ‘til morning.
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