William Blake arrived in the world at 28 Broad Street, London—his father’s hosier shop in the Soho neighbourhood of Britain’s capital city, and centre of the mercantile hubbub. The date was 28 November 1757, so today is his birthday.
Birth itself always carried positive connotations for Blake. He referred to the spirit as “innocence”, which might be defined as the ability to say “yes” to life.
The quality is hopeful but about much more than being simply naive. It is a capacity to perceive expansively, with clarity, receptivity and unhindered imagination—not simplistically but with a searching hope because, as Blake puts it, “Innocence dwells with Wisdom.”
Blake is saying that innocence is crucial to sustain, doubly so when injustices and tragedies surround us. With it, the infinite dignity of ourselves and others can be appreciated. Without it, not only does the viciousness of life rapidly become unbearable, but the desire to redress wrongs itself goes wrong.
To put it another way: you must know what you love more clearly than what you fear; delight must be stronger than disgust. Wise innocence secures this.
Writing around 150 years after Blake, Aldous Huxley expressed the perennially important insight in his book, The Devils of Loudun: “No man can concentrate his attention upon evil, or even upon the idea of evil, and remain unaffected. To be more against the devil than for God is exceedingly dangerous. Every crusader is apt to go mad. He is haunted by the wickedness which he attributes to his enemies; it becomes in some sort a part of him.”
But there is another way: a focus on the good, regardless.
I recall one person I knew who, I can now see, had secured the habit of wise innocence. She was a retired teacher and frail, though managing to live alone, having outlived her husband. And she glowed. I felt energised after my visits, though her junior by decades. I came to see that whilst she had aged and endured personal losses, she had become transparent to a wider pulse of life. She channelled more than herself without being any less herself. She knew how to let go and, paradoxically, that let more in.
This points to an innocence that is stronger than suffering – which doesn’t mean that suffering ceases. In fact, struggle can deepen innocence and wonder. “Innocence dwells with Wisdom” Blake had written, and there is a further clause he added: “Innocence dwells with Wisdom but never with Ignorance.” His point is that when ignorance is present there is not real innocence but credulity.
So, innocence is valuable because it is open to experience and can embrace the worst, though also see the best. The virtue is doubly valuable in what can be a harsh world.
Blake was onto what is acknowledged within wisdom traditions. For example, Zen Buddhism has the concept of shoshin, or “beginner’s mind”, which is the art of dropping preconceptions in a readiness to see afresh.
Christianity records Jesus telling his disciples to suffer the little children because an adult equipped with the unselfconscious attitude they can embody might detect the kingdom of God, unobscured by personal preoccupations.
Innocence brings vulnerability, of course, which is one reason people so easily lose it—or, indeed, actively dismiss or want rid of it. Cruelty and heartache can lead some to conclude that they don’t want to be innocent. The state of mind is too open to feeling exposed, being manipulated, or straightforwardly getting hurt.
Living by innocence and experience, and avoiding succumbing to negative states of mind, is a daily challenge. But it can also be a transformative practice – one that is present from our birth.
This is an edited excerpt from the first chapter of my book, Awake! William Blake and the Power of the Imagination.