Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Effects of Shock, Heaven and Hell

May 23, 2011

I believe that the effects of shock may be under-analyzed, under-valued and under-appreciated for the most part in our world, even in fields of medicine and psychology that attempt to treat them. All I have seen in catching up with the news is the look of shock on people’s faces – flood victims, tornado victims, and victims of personal betrayal. A healthy assimilation of such events in the life of the psyche is little understood. Denial, suppression, and thinking on the bright side seem to be all we know how to do to survive.

Life keeps shocking us, personally and collectively. We definitely have to figure this one out. Every new shock triggers old ones. There are songs and stories, songs and stories, songs and stories about how to focus on the positive, eliminate the negative. Who of us cannot say how life-changing these stories have been? Yet there is more.

Ancient myths, even the Bible, as well as mystics of East and West, do not attempt to be so simplistic. The field of depth psychology in the last 100 years also has tried to restore a sense of balance to the trajectory of social and therapeutic methods that lead to dangerous suppression of disturbing experience and emotion in favor of accentuating the positive, looking on the bright side, focusing only on “heaven.” I am a true believer in accentuating the positive, but will say that life keeps teaching me that respecting and even cherishing her dark side, embracing both dark and light equally, is the way to balance. I remember reading the words of Robert Romanyshyn, a professor as well as a friend of mine, that liberated me at a time of struggle: “Depression, then, is a matter of home, of coming home or trying to, of being called home. It is not an illness to be cured. It is the cure.”

The idea he articulated, along with a number of other brilliant thinkers I was studying at the time, is that psychological life, energy and libido get buried under layers of denial and suppression we have developed, and that depression itself leads us into deep chambers to bring golden energy back. It’s calling is like going into an archaeological dig. As such, going down is not an illness to be cured, it is the cure. Dante, Goethe, Shakespeare – all of our greatest thinkers – encourage an awareness of traveling among the many layers of psychological experience with aptitude and awareness.

People who are experiencing shock right now I see with my heart will need strong support and awareness in our larger culture, awareness that is seriously unavailable, that might help realize that going deeply into the effects that these shocks have visited upon them is the only way through. I wish for all of them an awareness that suffering is not necessary to be avoided, but that it carries powerful, mystical, magical and enlightening potentials.

People are medicine. Nothing cures like empathy and love, human to human. We must see each other through this. To meet a suffering other exactly where they are, then walk with them through landscapes of hell leading to a way through is a sacred calling. These are the tour guides that are needed now. How can we do this for another? When we  enter the landscapes of hell personally and discover the way out, like Virgil and Dante.

Collectively we need a new story. We have separated heaven and hell as if they are mutually exclusive. They are not. They are one thing, each part of a great design. I see even on the news that we are groping for a new way and a new story. I know we will find it. I so believe, so utterly believe, in us.

The Turning World

May 22, 2011

I have been thinking today very much about the people who believed the world would end yesterday, sensing what they must be experiencing. I just got home to the mountain, the place paradoxically where I am connected to the news, after being in town very much this past week where I am disconnected from it as yet. I haven’t heard a word from the reports about what these believers must be thinking and experiencing today, only sensing it.

Though I did have a burst of laughter yesterday as some friends and I drove down Merrimon Ave. in Asheville and saw in front of a bus stop a set of clothes – shoes, socks, pants, sweatshirt and hat – laid out on the ground like the body within had just been taken up into rapture, I will say that for the most part I feel the pain of what people must be experiencing today as disillusionment, and I don’t take that pain lightly.

Who of us hasn’t been caught up in an idea or a plan that for whatever unknown reason made sense to us at the time, only to be taken down by it, completely disillusioned? In a Buddhist or Zen look at it, what can be more divine or empowering than removing illusions? In Jungian terms, those illusions are dreams of some kind of reality that only need to find their appropriate level to be sanctioned as true.

I have experienced the pain of disillusionment too many times to feel satisfaction in the confusion and readjustment people must be experiencing today. I will definitely be curious to find out more about what their stories are as I try to catch up with what I have missed this week, but I do cast a vote for compassion and self-reflection.

Domesticated and Undomesticated Mind

May 19, 2011

Living between town and mountain presents challenges at nearly every step, impossible to anticipate before I stepped into this adventure a few weeks ago. For the past many years while living on the mountain, most of the dreamwork I did with people took place in telephone sessions or during retreats, where I had more full access to the spirits that inhabit that place. As people told me their dreams I would look out the window at vast uninhabited spaces. Trees, clouds, winds, forest and silence supported my musings. I walked into the dreamtime landscapes almost without obstruction.

In my office in Weaverville much of the work that I do is still on the telephone as I build up a base of interested dreamers to come for sessions personally. I sit at my desk and look out at trees in a lovely landscaped garden while taking in the dream reports. Zoom, a car goes by. Joggers run through. Wafting sounds of people talking. I haven’t had these sights or sounds around me while doing this work for 7 years. They startle me out of the dreamspace, but I am learning to hold the dreaming mind as steady as possible. This is a learning curve.

I take walks from here and see carefully landscaped outdoor spaces. On the mountain all of my walks are taken in wild places. Undomesticated. The trillium are now blooming on the forest floors, soon will be blue bells, then the rhododendrons. These present every year not because any human cared to plant or arrange them. They just come. I look at in-town gardens that are gorgeously designed by human minds and LOVE them, but they make me feel confused. I have maybe been away too long.

I have been remembering terms used by French social anthropolgist Claude Levi-Strauss, the scientist who foresaw human doom through culture’s stripping of the mind from it’s primary or primitive sites. He described what he called Domesticated Mind vs. the Savage Mind, and thought culture’s demands for training the mind are moving us rapidly toward extinction. He was accused of severe pessimism, and did not think our species was headed in a sustainable direction. I know that Buckminster Fuller died with concerns about the Critical Path (his book title) humans are on. Jung wrote a brilliant essay entitled “Two Kinds of Thinking” elaborating on the advancement of “directed” thinking over mythic and dream states of thought. Heidegger called the inclination “technological thinking,” which he saw as manipulation of mind.

I have been using the term “the indigenous mind” to describe what I believe to be capabilities of mind excluded in our thrust toward modernization, to the demise of human and planetary balance. My coming down from the mountain now after living for nearly 7 years as a near hermit, my mind given freedom to live in an intentionally undomesticated way as largely as possible, presents me with challenges for real integration of these states of mind.

I believe that these worlds can and must be bridged. I do not believe one state should be demonized or eradicated by the other. I am seeing this is a mountain to climb for us. Difficult, but I truly believe, doable.

Re-creating the Brain

May 18, 2011

This morning I went to a meeting of a business networking community here in Asheville who meet every Wednesday morning at 8:00. They have an interesting concept, inviting one person of quality and integrity from each profession – one accountant, one realtor, one landscaper, one interior designer, and so on. Only one seat is available for that profession in this group. Each week they inform each other more about what they do, and all support each other, provide referrals, give recommendations, educate each other about business itself. There is a yearly fee and a requirement of attendance at these meetings for that time; if you can’t come you send someone to fill in for you and give your message. That’s the deal. It keeps the energy high and flowing, apparently. I saw it happening. I was invited and may become their psychologist if I choose to accept this mission.

Before moving on to what I feel interested to say about this experience, one bit of feedback I received after my presentation was notable. As I spoke I heard one woman whisper to the man next to her, “I like her!” I interrupted myself to say, “Thank you! I am really nervous talking to this group.” Meaning, I needed that feedback right now. Then I felt silly for interrupting myself, and for explaining that I was nervous. But after the session ended the woman who had brought me in told me that she thought the best moment of my whole delivery was when I said I was nervous. The rest of it, she said, comes and goes but that kind of authenticity spoke to people. She said she observed it.

Ok. I’m a psychologist exposing the machinations of the psyche, on-line, in the moment. I could breathe more deeply after realizing that actually was respected.

While there, listening to the various people speak – sweet, real, committed, passionate-about-their-work people, people who understand business, a language harder than Chinese to me – I thought I could feel actual cells in my brain re-orienting and readjusting. Maybe it was the 8:00 in the morning thing, as I am NOT a morning person, but something physical seemed to be happening inside my head. It was a sensory phenomenon.

I thought of David Bohm, the physicist’s, words. He explained that insight, new meanings perceived, actually change the physics of the brain, it’s chemistry and organization. In that, the physics of our world becomes a different reality. Something deep in the “implicate order”, as he described it, will shift which leads then to changes in the “explicate order” – external reality. Bohm explains at length how defended humans tend to be around letting this happen. He was a prophet, poet, meta-physician and philosopher as well as a scientist.

For me in this instance, people in suits who live in the real world to which I rarely feel adapted, being able to understand what I do, why I do it, want to help me, and that I might help them too, in business, not just in their heads – these new meanings were flooding my brain, changing it’s organization and chemistry. It was visceral.

Bohm said that “If the brain holds the old meanings, then it cannot change its state. The mental and the physical are one.” New perceptions re-create reality at a cellular level. He says we bring the “instincts of the jungle” to defend the old ideas, perceptions and reality. Why we do this is another subject, but he gets it.

Today, Wednesday May 18, 2011 – brain re-created. Check.
Now I am a depth psychologist and a business woman. Check.
Will I become a morning person? Can’t check that box yet.

Armageddon

May 14, 2011

Last night at dinner a good friend was sharing with us the concerns that some of the people in her life are hyper-conscious and alert about – that an end of the world is coming, the end of the world as we know it. All of the increasing disasters we are experiencing on our little planet have apparently been prophesied, and there is more to come. People who read up on this know a lot about it apparently, information coming from a variety of sources – everything from hard science to Marian apparitions. I have no judgment myself about this, about the truth or fable of it, about whether it is wise to spend time investigating it or whether to choose to not think about it. That is a very personal choice for every person.

Today, however, it has made me reflect upon how I spend my days and how I might spend them differently if I believed that my life and the world were to end very soon. Frankly, I think I would have chosen to spend my day differently. The plan for this day was chosen based upon concerns for tomorrow more than being perfectly in the moment. I would like to think I can bring these things together. It is a worthy meditation anyway.

What comes to my mind again is a quote I wrote about recently, which I want to correct now because I had it wrong. I thought it was by D.H. Lawrence, but it is instead from Henry Miller. The words are: “Think only what is right there, what is right under your nose to do. It’s such a simple thing–that is why people can’t do it.” I think about this so often.

So today I think, what is right under my nose? Is it bills sitting on my table reflecting bank account issues? House repairs? Holes bored in my screen door by carpenter bees? Yes, yes and yes. But what is actually closer to my nose than any of these is my heart. That organ is pretty much right under my nose.

If the world might end next week, or next month, or next year, am I attending to what my heart needs? This is the big question I believe. Rather than storing up beans and rice, which may also be a good idea, I think I would rather mostly think about this question.

Sometimes what our true hearts want is not what others in our life think it should want, or what convention thinks it should want, or what our mind thinks it should want. Listening deeply and intently to the heart is strong medicine and a warrior’s work. More than anything, this might be what is needed to get ready for the big one.

Summer

May 12, 2011

When Summer Solstice arrives in June, I must do a ritual to make peace with summer. I do not at all like to be a bitch, but I am going to bitch about summer because I feel like I have to. I ask for help from the nature spirits with this.

In fall, winter and spring where I live on the mountain, I walk trails all through the back woods several times a week. I sit on my porch. I see the ridges of mountains on the horizon in every direction that I look.

In summer, the trails are chest deep in growth, impossible to walk. On my porch I am eaten by bugs, and their little corpses fall into whatever I try to eat or drink outside. I can’t see mountains on the horizon, the leaves on the trees block the view. I feel closed in. Carpenter bees are eating holes in the wood on my porch. Grass needs to be mowed about every other day. Nature is gorgeous, lush and exquisite, but it all feels like it is coming at me!

The nature of psyche has been the same way. Growth in every area is apparent and rich and full but I feel inundated. I know it is a blessing, but it feels like too much. In just the last 24 hours, I have connected with the stories of old, good friends, and their stories fill me with the staggering fecundity of life.

For a person who lives with a sense that life is overwhelming, summer is a particularly challenging season. I need help with this! Humbly, I ask for blessing.

A void

May 8, 2011

Recently, with shifting circumstances in my life, stretching myself between town and mountain and not feeling exactly at home anywhere, imagining how to get my mountain home ready to be a rental – which means removing personal items from living spaces – I keep having this psychological sense of a vast void. It is hard to describe, and has not been that obvious to me why it is there. Internally it feels like inhabiting big empty spaces, very Zen in one way, very disconcerting in another.

A good friend brought to my attention today an issue that I had nicely tucked away in my psyche, having put a period on the end of it. Over, done with that. The story is written, conclusions reached, the book closed. He was insightful enough to point out that the story is my little “dogma.” As such, if I am to practice what I believe, it has to be questioned. So out it came for serious review. Within a couple of hours I had developed a fever. It was the tipping point for several things, I suppose.

Now I understand the void a little better, however. A void. Avoid. I have created a void by avoiding this issue. I have not been present to it.

On Good Friday my friend Ali and I did a Letting-Go ritual by the stream. I had been thinking of all that Jesus let go of on Good Friday – a lot, a lot – so it occurred to me that it was a good day to ask for help with letting go of old things. We named them together, sent them downstream and washed each other in the water. Now this old thing is shaking loose from my psychic space. It had been so much a part of the wallpaper I didn’t even see it, I needed a reflecting partner to help with that.

Now possibly something can wash in to that void, something living, fresh and new. A new dance rather than the stance of avoidance. Ritual is powerful medicine and magic.

Laughing Sky

May 7, 2011

I remember a day in LA a couple of decades ago, walking through a parking lot in the urban jungle, when something struck me so funny about what I had just witnessed that I looked up into the vast sky and had a spontaneous, hilarious, magnificent, unforgettable spiritual experience. The whole sky was undulating with powerful waves of laughter; I could see it, wish I could draw it, never will forget it. The reality of it crashed in on me like a tsunami. Everything is a joke! The joke is on us. The universe is made of laughter. Nothing we take seriously is truly serious. There is a realm we all share in which everything that weighs us down has no weight at all, in fact is bouyantly funny.

I have been taking a lot of things seriously lately. Many things. Serious, serious, serious. If I told you about them you might believe me that they are serious too. In the midst of it all tonight I decided to slow down and find something to watch on TV, anything, while I took a rest. On a movie channel that they gave me for free recently I happened to tune in to The Men Who Stare at Goats. I do not know if it was the mood I was in, or the fact that I know the movie histories of the main characters – Ewan McGregor, Jeff Bridges, George Clooney and Kevin Spacey – but watching this story unfold unleashed so much laughter in me I could barely stand to look at any of their faces while they performed it. I felt like I was tripping, it was just too silly. The humor got into me, bored in underneath the worries and sorrows exploding all of that energy.

I felt, and feel, instantly healed of great weight. There is no underestimating the power of laughter to relieve absolutely every kind of burden. I have heard stories of cancer being healed by laughter. This is a great reminder. Whatever the burden – find a way to laugh. The sky is laughing anyway, we might as well join in. I am very relieved, and grateful.

Do What is Right Under Your Nose

May 3, 2011

D. H. Lawrence said, and I can’t quote him exactly right now since I am not near my files, “Do what is right under your nose to do. That is the hardest thing, which is why so few people can do it.” I think of this notion often. Often!

There are so many “out there’s” to do – the mail, internet, future projections, even meditation, spiritual practices – but when there is a four-year-old neighbor running to me with her arms open wide screaming “Tayria!!!!” when I go to the mailbox she is right under my nose. She takes my hand to introduce me to today’s magic and wonders. “Let me show you quickly,” she says because she knows I am always busy and in a hurry to get back to my “out there’s”,  hesitant to yield to just staying lengthily with her, who is right under my nose.

Often it is the menial things that are right under my nose, the grass to be mowed, the dishes to be washed that I flail against because of the important “out there” other things that call to be done. The wisdom in this quote is helpful to me nearly every day, a way to guide myself through the chaos of demands coming from every which way.

It is an animal thing too, they generally follow what is right under their nose. There is mysterious but simple wisdom, and also comfort,  in this advise.

What is Important and What isn’t.

April 28, 2011

The tornadoes blowing through, lives lost and devastated, what is going on in Japan and elsewhere on our little planet home have to be causing each of us to evaluate, personally, what is important and what isn’t. I sat in the middle of the woods today and cried with a friend. Everything happening makes me wonder. What matters and what does not? This has to be causing us globally to reflect together this question.

The people who have been affected most in these disasters are our gurus right now, our definitive teachers. They know. We need to listen to them, and put ourselves in their place. Their illusions are gone with the wind. Only what truly matters remains.

My thought is that love is all that matters. Ask any of them. Connection and love.

How do we organize our lives around these priorities? This is the most crucial question at the moment. Beyond economics, beyond war, beyond politics, beyond religion, how do we organize ourselves around simple, basic principles of love?

Ask any of them. I’ll bet they will suddenly be able to tell us more than we thought imaginable to know.