I watched Good Will Hunting last night (well parts of it anyway) and one thing that struck me is how much I have in common with Will Hunting. Okay, I’m not a genius (close but not a genius) ;D but I tend to do very well in school, I come a poor family in a poor neighborhood, I experienced abuse growing up (although I was not an orphan and did not have to deal with foster homes) and I created a very prickly, tough exterior as a defense to cover up a vulnerable interior.

There was a moving scene in the movie when Robin Williams told Will that he was basically a smart ass with no soul (okay I’m paraphrasing) and that unless he truly experienced all those amazing things he read about in books (like what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel), he hasn’t really lived. At first Will blows it off and keeps up his smart ass, know-it-all persona. He insists he wants to stay right where he is doing exactly what he is doing (construction and janitorial work). He feels it is noble to fix cars or build homes for people. But when he tells this to his best friend Chucky, Chucky shocks Will by replying that every day when he drives to pick Will up for work, he hopes Will won’t be there. Chucky explains that he knows he will be doing exactly the same thing at 50 that he is doing now. But Will has a gift and a chance to do better (almost like having a winning lottery ticket) and if he doesn’t use it then he’s an idiot.

This visibly stuns Will and causes him to think. He has let a woman who loves him leave for California without saying goodbye because he is afraid of being hurt. He keeps people at a distance because he doesn’t want to be hurt. The only people he trusts are his three best friends because they are like family and would die for him. There is a great moment Will has a breakthrough with Sean (his therapist) and realizes it wasn’t his fault he was abused and abandoned. Finally after a lot of soul searching, Will decides to take a chance and change his life. He goes to see about a girl.

I really connected with this character. Drawing the Page of Cups today seemed to tune into this “a-ha” moment I had. In many ways we are both Pages of Cups at our core and ferociously shielding this vulnerable side with Knight of Swords behavior. The Page of Cups is our scared, vulnerable, defenseless inner child that was brutalized and left unprotected. So we both found ways to protect our core by being outwardly aggressive, smart alecky and challenging. I sometimes joke that my husband has been able to stay with me as long as he has because he can stand the occasional jab. It’s not really a joke. He somehow saw that defenseless, frightened child and was determined to reach her. He also helped offer the protection I needed from certain external factors. I may have gotten a bit more mature and sophisticated in my defense mechanisms, but that scared, vulnerable little girl is still deep inside me afraid to come out. We’re getting closer to it but I’m not there yet.

At one point in the movie Sean asks Will what he wants to do with his life and Will cannot answer him. That is how I feel right now. I can give dozens of things I don’t want to do, but I have no idea what I would like. My brain freezes up at the thought. I’ve never been able to work my way through one of those “What Color is Your Parachute” type books because that would mean stripping away too many defenses. Besides what if I find what I was really meant to do and I suck at it. What if I’m just not good? That lack of confidence is what keeps me “getting ready” to start reading Tarot cards professionally rather than just being a professional Tarot reader. And this directly connects with being able to be vulnerable and to be around people who are vulnerable.

For a long time I avoided people who were needy or in emotionally vulnerable places. I felt unable to help them and was afraid I might end up adding to their pain. This makes it very ironic that I’ve chosen to work with children – but somehow being able to help protect children makes me feel like I’m making sure what happened to me doesn’t happen to them. The damage hasn’t been done yet, so I may be able to prevent it. Healing damage that happened when an adult was a child has always seemed beyond my skills. But maybe if I can accept in my core that it wasn’t my fault either, I can let that wound heal and move forward. Because I know that until I can embrace that vulnerable child and let her out to play, I’m still dealing with that childhood victimization. And I hate being a victim.