This work is insightful. I am a Catholic Christian and I do not feel threatened by what you had to say, in fact it has helped me put to words (as you have done so eloquently) my own manifesto of what the baby is for me. I read into your work even a previsionary warning about sin, for the things that we choose that harm other people leads to harm for our very own souls and that recognizing what things we choose that causes harm is among the things we should strive to practice.
I also appreciated what you had to say about the self. Religion often reigns so heavily on altruism that the self is lost. Self care while it is a trite buzzword poster child of mental health, it is in fact essential. I thank you for that because I am certain that many of your readers may be burdened or conflicted with shame over choosing themselves if given the opportunity.
Oof. I noticed the deeply wounded child in me felt resistance as I read this. I have much healing to do. Although I left church 25 years ago, and recently acknowledged that I no longer believe that stuff, no longer identify as Christian, I am going through a period of oscillating between grief/despair and rage over 70 years of a screwed up life from being told that my "heart is deceitful and desperately wicked" and there is no good thing in me. (My parents were students at Bob Jones University, my father an ordained minister, so the indoctrination and control was 24/7, and included regular whippings for reinforcement.)
Love the deconstruction of the idiom itself. Very sharp (and speaks to my curiosity!), especially the way you show how ‘the baby’ is often little more than someone else’s sacred cow dressed up as essential truth. I’ve heard the phrase countless times, and it always carried that implicit guilt: keep something, or you’ve gone too far. Your framing flips the burden back to where it belongs, not on defending what others insist is irreplaceable, but on discerning what actually nourishes life, if anything.
I really enjoyed the tie to Sartre. Freedom, in that sense, is terrifying. Religion offered me the comfort of guardrails, but those guardrails doubled as a cage. Once I walked out, I had to face the rawness of responsibility; not just for my choices, but for my meaning. It’s liberating and suffocating at the same time. Writing has become one way I navigate that tension, working through the same questions you raise here: What does it mean to live authentically, to trust myself, and to define ‘love’ without someone else’s authority standing in the room?
With freedom comes a burden.
What you’ve outlined here, self-trust, self-awareness, self-compassion, feels less like selfishness and more like the groundwork for any genuine capacity to serve others. If there is a ‘baby’ worth keeping, perhaps it is simply that: a relationship with the self strong enough to love without chains.
Excellent. Even though I’m a full blown atheist, I was a staunch fundamentalist baptist for years. It’s definitely an understandable concern for many people.
The baby I found in Jesus was the relationship He appears to enjoy with the One he called father. That One is love, which I why I call myself a follower of Jesus. And still function in the Church of England, very selectively as a retired minister, comfortable with an evolving theology which is as much decluttered as it is deconstructed. I found your article very challenging and interesting but was left wondering whether it was an awful lot of work building something to replace what the everything has to go approach removes. Certainly all the questions in the what gives me joy list are answered for me by loving the life I do..
Our life purpose is to heal and love ourselves so that we can love and heal others. No easy task but the universe has a way of showing us where the work is. Trusting in that process with an open heart.
This work is insightful. I am a Catholic Christian and I do not feel threatened by what you had to say, in fact it has helped me put to words (as you have done so eloquently) my own manifesto of what the baby is for me. I read into your work even a previsionary warning about sin, for the things that we choose that harm other people leads to harm for our very own souls and that recognizing what things we choose that causes harm is among the things we should strive to practice.
I also appreciated what you had to say about the self. Religion often reigns so heavily on altruism that the self is lost. Self care while it is a trite buzzword poster child of mental health, it is in fact essential. I thank you for that because I am certain that many of your readers may be burdened or conflicted with shame over choosing themselves if given the opportunity.
Oof. I noticed the deeply wounded child in me felt resistance as I read this. I have much healing to do. Although I left church 25 years ago, and recently acknowledged that I no longer believe that stuff, no longer identify as Christian, I am going through a period of oscillating between grief/despair and rage over 70 years of a screwed up life from being told that my "heart is deceitful and desperately wicked" and there is no good thing in me. (My parents were students at Bob Jones University, my father an ordained minister, so the indoctrination and control was 24/7, and included regular whippings for reinforcement.)
Love the deconstruction of the idiom itself. Very sharp (and speaks to my curiosity!), especially the way you show how ‘the baby’ is often little more than someone else’s sacred cow dressed up as essential truth. I’ve heard the phrase countless times, and it always carried that implicit guilt: keep something, or you’ve gone too far. Your framing flips the burden back to where it belongs, not on defending what others insist is irreplaceable, but on discerning what actually nourishes life, if anything.
I really enjoyed the tie to Sartre. Freedom, in that sense, is terrifying. Religion offered me the comfort of guardrails, but those guardrails doubled as a cage. Once I walked out, I had to face the rawness of responsibility; not just for my choices, but for my meaning. It’s liberating and suffocating at the same time. Writing has become one way I navigate that tension, working through the same questions you raise here: What does it mean to live authentically, to trust myself, and to define ‘love’ without someone else’s authority standing in the room?
With freedom comes a burden.
What you’ve outlined here, self-trust, self-awareness, self-compassion, feels less like selfishness and more like the groundwork for any genuine capacity to serve others. If there is a ‘baby’ worth keeping, perhaps it is simply that: a relationship with the self strong enough to love without chains.
Excellent. Even though I’m a full blown atheist, I was a staunch fundamentalist baptist for years. It’s definitely an understandable concern for many people.
So we are really told not to throw out the sacred cows! Are there particular books you were thinking of by Sartre and whitman?
Living the life I do, but yeah, loving it too.
The baby I found in Jesus was the relationship He appears to enjoy with the One he called father. That One is love, which I why I call myself a follower of Jesus. And still function in the Church of England, very selectively as a retired minister, comfortable with an evolving theology which is as much decluttered as it is deconstructed. I found your article very challenging and interesting but was left wondering whether it was an awful lot of work building something to replace what the everything has to go approach removes. Certainly all the questions in the what gives me joy list are answered for me by loving the life I do..
Our life purpose is to heal and love ourselves so that we can love and heal others. No easy task but the universe has a way of showing us where the work is. Trusting in that process with an open heart.
All I can say is wow! You have given me so much to think about! Thank you'
Hi, Gloria! Thanks for your encouraging comment :) I'm happy you found this piece useful.