In the immediate aftermath of the second world war, hundreds of Japanese marines, soldiers and sailors were stranded on one of the many small islands that comprised their former empire. Though the war had ended, these men were unaware of the outcome. In the months, and in some cases years of isolation they endured, many of these men formed an almost fanatical loyalty to their mission. Their survival depended on it, as did their sense of honor.
Returning to their homes and villages once they were persuaded to lay down their arms proved extremely difficult. Their countrymen held celebrations and conferred great honors on the returning warriors out of respect for their sacrifice, encouraging them to 'retire' from their cause. Elders would address the returning soldiers thanking them profusely, then declaring that the war was over and the community needed them to let go of what had sustained them in order to assimilate into post-war life.
Author and Psychologist, Bill Plotkin, enlists the metaphor of the Loyal Soldier as a way of explaining aspects of our personality that we need to retire to prosper as mature and emotionally whole human beings. Echoing the work of Richard Rohr, Thomas Merton, and Carl Jung, among others, Plotkin focuses on a second half of life, in which our True Selves can emerge freed from the pretenses, defenses and strategies we adopted to make our way in the world.
The Loyal Soldier, he says, is one of our subordinate personas formed in the crucible of trauma, typically in early childhood, as a coping mechanism to protect us from both real or perceived threats. It does so by seeking acceptance from the authority figures that surround us, by making us smaller, less visible and ultimately less in touch with our true selves; and with our natural excitement, inquisitiveness and emotional engagement. As we grow, the Loyal Soldier survival strategy leads us to self-doubt, feelings of unworthiness and self-criticism. It may manifest in co-dependency or inauthenticity, as a need for control and order or it may cause us to suppress our intelligence, abilities or talents.
The Loyal Soldier stands between two other sub-personalities, our Wild Child--the untamed, exuberant self, and our Wounded Child, the emotional, playful and highly vulnerable part of us, protecting us from the one and shielding the other. The Loyal Soldier's strategies can serve us well in childhood, but in some cases they work so well that they become an essential part of our belief system. As adults we cannot see how to abandon our childhood survival strategies if we are even aware that they exist. Having formed outside of our conscious awareness before our egos developed, the Loyal Soldier invisibly manipulates our thoughts and actions preventing us from recognizing or expunging him.
In The Wild Mind: A Field Guide to the Human Psyche, Plotkin suggests that we can retire the Loyal Soldier by following the steps employed by the Japanese elders. First, he encourages us to ensure the war has ended; that we are no longer in the midst of a dysfunctional environment, and have support mechanisms internally, among family & friends and even professionals that we can rely upon to help us feel safe and accepted.
The Loyal Soldier is stubborn and will not simply disappear once we recognize him. When familiar patterns occur, Plotkin recommends we remind ourselves that he is simply doing what he has always done, attempting to protect our Wounded Child. He suggests we call upon a fourth member of our personality structure, the Nurturing Parent to assist us in assuring the Loyal Soldier that his services are no longer needed.
This may seem quite abstract, and Plotkin addresses that by encouraging us to move beyond internal dialog. He proposes that we first surface the original sources of our childhood wounds, calling up specific memories and details and in response to each reminding our Loyal Soldier, when he attempts to intervene, of the resources we possess as adults to ensure the safety and acceptance of our Wounded Child. He also suggests we give a face and voice to our Loyal Soldier, that we conjure an image endowing him (or her) with the physical attributes, gestures and voice we imagine and that we openly converse with our Loyal Soldier as we both thank him for protecting us when we could not, and dismissing him from future service.
There is, of course, far more to Plotkin's work than I have addressed in this post. Most importantly, the work involved in uncovering the most deeply hidden wounds, those that precipitated the Loyal Soldier's courageous battles in the first place. That will require a longer and likely more painful process of self-discovery. Finding and revisiting those wounds, however, holds out the prospect of a second half of life that is authentic, self-loving and connected to our higher selves in ways we could not imagine.
Not every child experiences the traumas that lead to forming the Loyal Soldier persona. And even among those that do, some are able to resolve their fears and emerge as secure and self-actualized adults. But for those who have not yet found their way Plotkin's insightful work can be a place from which to begin that process. It is also a reminder to us all that every day we have the opportunity to remind those around us that we are a part of their loving and abiding human family.
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