Image from Carl Jung's Red Book

Welcome!

Feel free to read, comment, question, dialogue, muse, opine, wonder, teach, learn, joke, poke fun, lighten up, or get down and get serious about what you find here.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Exile and Finding Your Way Back

Go Your Own Road by Alltelleringet on Deviant Art







Continuing to listen to David Whyte's The Three Marriages, and today's message that stuck was about feeling seperated--even exiled--from what feeds your passions and speaks to your soul. He discussed how sometimes that experience increases one's desire to know and write about it...i.e. Jack Kerouac, "who never owned a car and kept going home to mother" wrote so passionately about the freedom of the open road. 

 
All this hit me in the context of my work: I am a total Jung Geek. I graduated from an amazing Jungian oriented school, then was ejected out of that womb-like place into the cold and harsh world. (Oh, the pain!)Oh sure, I have been through periods of doubt, wondering if, indeed, it was all just a lot of self-indulgent bullshit, but ultimately, I keep coming back to it and feeling even more certain that there is something really important there. (Notwithstanding the eye rolling of certain friends who have moved beyond Jung to non-dual awareness, etc....WHATever.) So, that being said, I have spent my entire professional career working in an environment that primarily values a very different approach to therapy. VERY. Without going into shop talk, let's just say I was a little bit of a fish out of water. And always wondering what the heck I was doing there, gasping for breath. What I was doing was slowly but surely reconciling and even integrating two very different approaches to the human psyche. AND, pertinent to the stuff in paragraph one, longing to return to my true love someday. That longing kept me reading and studying, taking workshops and seminars, doing my own work with Jungian flair--so to speak. And maybe it preserved my love for that path, precisely because I have been somewhat exiled from it. I have recently found an ability to bring the richness and wisdom of that path into the harried, crisis-oriented, overworked/underpaid world of non-profit mental health.

 
What's my point here? For anyone feeling despair that you cannot do the work you love, feel that you are trapped by young children, mortgages, debt, etc. (do you hear me singing chick and undead girl?), nurture your love and longing for what your true work is in whatever way you can. If you don't know what your true work is, nurture whatever gives you joy (as opposed to pleasure--so I'm not talking about MAC). Even if it is small potatoes now, it can stay alive inside you and feed you when you are being starved to death by whatever system is grinding you beneath it's wheels. (yes, I can be a little dramatic...deal with it.) Small potates can be very tasty. Eventually, you will see the opening and be able to walk through it to get to the really big potatoes. (hmmm...sometimes I choose a metaphor and just run with it, even when it is not that great...)

 
So. here is the rest of the Whyte poem from yesterday, which speaks perfectly to this whole thing...about moving toward what you love in small ways when the big ways are not visible or possible right now.

START CLOSE IN

Start close in,
don't take the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step you don't want to take.

Start with
the ground
you know,
the pale ground
beneath your feet,
your own
way of starting
the conversation.

Start with your own
question,
give up on other
people's questions,
don't let them
smother something
simple.

To find
another's voice
follow
your own voice,
wait until
that voice
becomes a
private ear
listening
to another.

Start right now
take a small step
you can call your own
don't follow
someone else's
heroics, be humble
and focused,
start close in,
don't mistake
that other
for your own.
Start close in,
don't take the second step
or the third,
start with the first
thing
close in,
the step you don't want to take.

David Whyte ~
from River Flow: New and Selected Poems

 

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Getting More Personal

So tonight, I'm feeling a little more daring, a little less in my head, and a little more willing to get to another point of having my own blog...sharing some of my own poems. As I write these lines, I have already chosen two older poems, and I am terrified to post them! David Whyte exhorts us to "Start close in,/ don't take the second step / or the third,/ start with the first thing close in, / the step you don't want to take." So I'll take my fear as a sign that this is the first step toward something, I'm not sure what, that I am headed toward.

A very little background on the mythology:  Aphrodite, goddess of Love and Desire, was never possessed by a lover, she always directed the show, came and went as she pleased, completely Herself. She was born from the foam on the surface of the ocean, the mixture of water and air. Athene, Goddess of Wisdom and Invention, was even more self-possessed, and as far as we know, never took a lover. However, she was a great friend and champion to many of the Greek heroes. These two are primary archetypes of my psyche..we go way back. Protean refers to Proteus, an ancient sea god who was a bit of a shapeshifter.

Beach Poem
So, I'm not Aphrodite rising from the sea
naked, self-sufficient and magnificent
after all
I'm just a woman
crying on the beach without poise or dignity
searching for evidence of my existence
among what is felt
beneath the churning sea foam
(tiny shells and whips of kelp)
and what is there
when the wave recedes
(the lonely leveled sand)

And you are just a man
with your own pain and uncertainties
holding on to me as I thrash about in the surf
asking fearfully
what do you feel beneath the foam?

And really, what can you say?
Language is not liquid
it does not flow over and around
what is mysterious and protean
It will define and crystalize
only what is present in a single moment

Somehow
in this single moment
it is enough to be held
with something unknown swirling around our feet
and I am joyfully earthbound
watching you slip through the sea in your neopreme sealskin
riding the oceanic surge like you were born there


Rebirth

Athene-like
I casually descend
Into the dark pool
Where you wait.
Boundaries of friendship and passion
Negotiated long before
Become fluid
As limbs casually float
Barely touching
Ah! The exquisite awareness of proximity!
In the foam--
In the immeasurable space
Between I and Thou--
Aphrodite is born again.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Sometimes, just a poem...

This being human is a guest house
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
Meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.


Rumi

First Blog....First Post

I'm making my way through David Whyte's audiobook The Three Marriages, so this is where I will enter the conversation, mid-stream, navigating the currents of relationships to another person, a work, and this precarious and unsettling connection to something within which I refer to as the Self, Psyche, or Soul...depending on my mood and which teacher-in-absentia I am learning from on any given day.

THE UNIVERSAL AND PHILOSOPHICAL:

Regarding the nature of passionate love (whether it be for a person, an inner calling, or an outer vocation), Whyte says that it is characterized by an "unconscious drive toward vulnerability", that despite all rational thought, common sense, or sound advice, one is compelled to follow the "hidden, non-negotiable conversation that will reorder and reimagine us, preparing us for the marriage to which our falling in love leads." To follow that longing despite the odds, despite the probability of rejection and humiliation, takes us toward an encounter with something that will utterly change us. 

In the following poem, he shows us that this encounter is not necessarily what we are dreaming it to be--happily ever after with our true love, fame and fortune in the perfect job--but something far more significant and perhaps terrifying to the small ego trying to control and manage our lives:

Self-Portrait by David Whyte

It doesn't interest me if there is one God
or many gods.
I want to know if you belong or feel
abandoned.
If you know despair or can see it in others.
I want to know
if you are prepared to live in the world
with its harsh need
to change you. If you can look back
with firm eyes
saying this is where I stand. I want to know
if you know
how to melt into that fierce heat of living
falling toward
the center of your longing. I want to know
if you are willing
to live, day by day, with the consequence of love
and the bitter
unwanted passion of your sure defeat.

I have heard, in that fierce embrace, even
the gods speak of God.

from Fire in the Earth
©1992 Many Rivers Press

In his recently published private journal, The Red Book, Carl Jung says, "He could find his soul in desire itself, but not in the objects of desire. If he possessed his desire, and his desire did not posses him, he would lay a hand on his soul, since his desire is the image and expression of his soul." I believe this is related to Rumi's statement (translation by Coleman Barks), "Lovers don't finally meet somewhere/They are in each other all along." Whenever we are feeling that deep, undeniable longing for someone or something, the desire that does not fade and that will not let us sleep, we are hearing the call of the Soul. This also reminds me of Joseph Campbell's exhortation to "Follow your bliss."

What happens when we refuse to follow that call? When we turn away from our desire, our longing, our love, out of fear that we will never have it , or having had it, lose it, we turn away from our own Soul, away from the Self.  What does this look like? In Swamplands of the Soul, Jungian analyst and author James Hollis describes "desuetude", a kind of depression and loss of vitality, as the emotional state that occurs when we are headed in the wrong direction. When we are driving ourselves away from what the Soul wants, she withdraws the life force, cuts the fuel line, kills the engine so that you come to a complete stop until you figure it out. Maybe she is hoping you will ask for directions!

THE PERSONAL and PARTICULAR:

 In college, I studied English poetry and Shakespeare, Theatre, and the sublime but completely impractical art of Oral Interpretation. Can you imagine a Masters' degree in anything more self-indulgent than reading poetry out loud?? Can you imagine my father's anxiety, wondering how in the world I would live on that? He tried so hard to get me to study teaching, so that I would always have a job. Well, I did what I had to do...studied what I loved. And I got a job teaching the art of reading poetry--and other things--out loud as soon as I graduated. I taught that for a decade, and loved every minute of it. Then I got a degree in Jungian psychology. There is nothing less practical than Jungian psychology when you work in a government funded agency. But those loves changed me...brought me closer to my Self than I could ever have imagined as a young woman entering college.  

I have also had experiences loving a person that made me a compulsive neurotic wreck. It was so much easier to follow the career desires! I have been absolutely obliterated by this: the mythology of who I thought I was, left shredded on the floor every time.  Luckily, when I picked up the pieces, I was somehow better. And bigger on the inside. A part of me would like to give up all this suffering for love, but another part of me just takes over and all I can do is fall into the center of my longing again and again, and see where it leads.

My Wild Heart

I have a wild passionate heart.
Restrained by rules and roles
Dutifully acknowledged for years,
She pulses secretly,
and tentatively
reaches out whenever she can.
Soon, in stillness and in play
She will break free
To love what she chooses.

You cannot control or capture
My Wild Heart.
You may only accept what she offers
(or doesn't offer, on her whim)
And tend to your own heart,
Beating wildly within.


BUT ENOUGH ABOUT ME...

Have you ever given in to a passionate longing for someone, despite your better judgment? Have you followed a dream, with trepidation and uncertainty, that you were told was impossible? Do you find yourself turning within, in solitude and silence, when you really 'out to get out more'? Marion Woodman would ask, do you go by choice or by compulsion? The answer is always "yes", but even when one is abducted, like Persephone taken down into Hades, there is also a certain amount of courage in the surrender. Where have you been courageous? Where have you refused the call and suffered the consequences? Tell us! Inquiring minds want to know!