In pursuit of innocence

In the eyes of a child lies innocence. Like a light untouched by the dirt, rust, or deception of life... So pure, so clear, so unspoiled. The moment that sparkle in their eyes gives way to a questioning gaze, something vanishes from the world. Because innocence belongs not only to individuals but to the universe itself. As delicate as the shyness of a flower blooming for the first time, as sincere as the trust of a sprout breaking through the spring soil.

Innocence is, in fact, a way of believing. Believing that people won’t harm one another, that every morning might bring a good day, that a smile is genuine, and that a touch carries kindness. It’s trusting that something is beautiful just as it is. As that trust breaks, they say we grow. But perhaps growing up is nothing more than the abandonment of innocence.

Imagine a little girl. Holding a plush teddy bear, tightly grasping her mother’s hand while walking down the street... With each step, she discovers the world. Looking at stones, leaves, and birdsong with awe. To her, the world is a garden of miracles. She doesn’t know the price of anything, nor does she question anyone’s intentions. Love was given to her unconditionally. And so, she gives it the same way. That is innocence.

But over time, people learn. And learning, while it means gaining, also means losing. The greatest loss is innocence. Maybe it happens when one hears their first lie, when their trust is first broken, when they realise their love may not be returned... That fragile flower within withers. And what takes its place? Reason, logic, caution. But that first feeling — so pure, so unstained — never quite returns.

Yet there are moments when we find ourselves close to innocence again. When we smell a newborn baby, when someone shows us kindness on a tearful night, or when we watch a cat sleep peacefully in our lap. Because innocence isn’t just in children. It hides in mercy, in silence, in a simple thank you. In holding someone’s hand, in a song rising from silence, in a shared umbrella under the rain...

Innocence is remembering. Like longing for something we’ve forgotten. That’s why memories from the past always feel more innocent. “Things were easier back then,” we say. But it wasn’t time that was easier — it was us. Our hearts weren’t walled yet. They were doors, open to everyone. And strangely enough, it was we who shut those doors.

What happens when someone loses their innocence? Do they become stronger, wiser? Maybe. But also more distant, more cautious, and more alone. Because losing innocence also means losing unity, pure love, and sincerity. And even as people try to protect themselves, deep down they long for who they used to be. That’s why we get emotional looking at childhood photos. Why we cry during fairy tales. Because we know we’ll never quite feel that way again. Or maybe we can... If innocence isn’t just a state but a choice — maybe it can return.

We can invite it back. By helping a stranger, offering water to a stray animal, winking at a child... That first version of ourselves still exists, buried under the dust of time. All it needs is a breeze to be revealed again. Maybe the voice of a friend, maybe a line of poetry, maybe the silence of stars on a quiet night...

Innocence is not weakness. It takes great courage — to love without expecting anything in return, to try understanding without judgement, and to remain gentle even when hurt. Innocence is not fighting life but dancing with it. To hold on to grace despite all the blows... To remain fair despite all the injustice... That is true strength.

Another face of innocence is hope. The belief that things can still get better. The ability to grow a flower in the midst of filth and falsehood. Because innocence is also hope. It is the choice of good in the face of evil. And those who change the world have always been the ones who carried that hope within.

Today, a child draws by the window. With their crayons, they colour the sky. They add more blue to the blue. They draw a giant sun and clouds like cotton. People in their world hold hands. No one is alone. And in those little hands, we are reminded of something we’ve forgotten: everything is still possible. Perhaps innocence was always about seeing life through those eyes.

And you... yes, you reading this — maybe you've forgotten the child inside you for years... Pause. Fall silent for a moment. Listen to yourself. Take a deep breath. Look up at the sky. Watch the birds. Remember who you used to be. When was the last time someone loved you unconditionally? When was the last time you loved someone expecting nothing in return? That moment... innocence can be born again.

Innocence does not vanish. It only hides. Behind a smile, within a tear... But it’s always there. To remember it is to remember yourself. Because one is most human when they are innocent.

With Love and Respect,

Burak Anaturk.

Burak Anaturk is a professional civil engineer. He focuses on sharing lessons from his life experiences, exploring diverse perspectives, and discussing personal development topics.
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