Through a Jungian Lens

We are all one.

I have used this photo before when I took it last autumn in my back yard. The photo shows all of my children, their spouses and all my grandchildren as well as family pets. The pets were included because they simply belong in the family. I can say “this is my family, we are one” with pride and with love. We are one family. Yet when they return to their homes they find “family” centres around a more nuclear definition – mother, father, and child(ren), a grouping which still holds true. I often wonder about how my family has changed over the years from three children in a house where we laughed, played, worked and cried. We shared it all. We were one, separate and whole, a family.

But the truth is, even then we were more than that. My friends, my wife’s friends, our extended families, my co-workers, my wife’s co-workers, our neighbours,  our children’s playmates and even enemies were intricately woven into the very fabric of what and who we were as a family. People we didn’t personally know or meet also became vital forces working on who and what we were as a family – politics, economics, the market place, and other things we had no awareness of at all.

As I sit and look at this photo, I am reminded of the places we have been, of the moments where nature was at the centre in provincial parks, on the shorelines of various lakes and rivers, when we fished, when we hiked, when we played. As we wandered through small sloughs seeing life in front of us, we connected, learned and grew to be healthier. I see in the photo, the love of the outdoors - of water, earth and sun – and I know that nature is at the centre, always present.

Now, my house is empty. My wife is at work, my children are in their own homes with their own children. In spite of the distance and physical absence, we are still one. Joining them in the embrace of my family are people I have met in my travels, people who have touched me, nourished me, and taught me to be more open and inclusive – a gay psychiatrist in America, a teacher in Rajasthan, a guide in Vietnam, a young Buddhist monk in Laos, a nameless girl taking her brothers and sisters to school in a small boat in Cambodia, a young man in China who adopted us as his Canadian parents, fellow pilgrims on the Chemin de Saint Jacques in France – the list goes on and on. And surprisingly, some who join them at the centre of my  family I have never met at all. Thanks to the work of countless numbers of people, the world of cyberspace has given me brothers and sisters of spirit and soul – a man in Denmark, a fellow pilgrim in Australia, a writer in Britain, a psychotherapist in Ireland, a psychologist in Mexico, a naturist author and professor in America – and so many more. Each of these people have taught me simply through their existence, that I am more than the sum of my body’s cells.  And, they have taught me that the countless billions who I don’t yet know, may never know, are also members of my family.

We are all one with this place we call home, our planet. We are all the children of Mother Earth and Father Sun. We are all One.

Oedipus Rex – Oedipus complex – Mothers and sons

Men, all men, are wounded in some fashion by their mothers and fathers, as are all women. But as I am a man, I can only speak as a man. When I was a youth of 18, I went to see a live production of Oedipus Rex at the National Arts Centre in Ottawa. I was captivated by the story. I wondered why, in later years why a teenager would like a Greek play such as this where the pull into an incestuous relationship with the mother lead to so much destruction. The presence of Eros is always there between a mother and a son (as well as between a father and a daughter) despite all conscious intentions. Thankfully, most parents manage to navigate the relationships of parent and child without falling into the unconscious expression of Eros upon a child.

With the death of my own mother, the veil was lifted to reveal my own Oedipus story. Men are wired to find an Other that evokes the mother either as a positive or a negative figure. Regardless of the dark or light aspect of personal mother, each boy child wants to be loved by his mother, the person with whom he has had the most intimate of all relationships from birth until separation. So, it should come as no surprise, that following separation, the search begins for someone else who will then love the boy child grown into a man. But, it would be a mistake to think that this someone else is necessarily a woman; it just isn’t that simple.

The person we find becomes a Magical Other.

“Behind the search for the Magical Other lies the archetypal power of the parental imagos. Our first experience of ourselves is in relationship to these Primal Others, usually mother or father. Consciousness itself arises out of that splitting of the primal participation mystique which characterizes the infant’s sensibility. The paradigms for self, for Other, and the transactions between, are formed from these earliest experiences. They are hard-wired into our neurological and emotional network.” [Hollis, The Eden Project, p. 37]

Behind the scenes in Puerto Morelos

It’s Easter Sunday morning in Puerto Morelos, Mexico. This means that in two weeks from today I will be flying home with my wife to Canada. But of course, there is more to Easter Sunday than a calendar reminder for me. I have chosen a photo I took two days ago, the view from behind the small church in Puerto Morelos, with a statue of Mary beneath one of the lattice windows of the church. I haven’t attended any Easter service since 1993 when I attended the service in Avignon, France. Somewhere along the way, I lost the connection with my French Catholic heritage. However, I never did lose the resonance with the mysteries of soul and spirit that certain days are able to evoke.

Today is the official day of a new season of life, for me, an annual resurrection like some phoenix bird arising out of the ashes of the old year. The warmth of the sun urges flowers to appear, stirs animals and birds to come together for unconscious procreative purposes. As I meditated this morning, I felt the stirring as well. What new manifestation of my self will arise from the tomb of who I was, what new consciousness will burst forth into the sunshine of rebirth.

Happy Easter!

“One has no right to talk about the last stage until he has accomplished the second one. One has no right to talk about the oneness of the universe until he is aware of its separateness and duality.” [Johnson, He, p. 8]

Duality – shadow and light

The second stage, the “imperfection of middle life” stage is where most of us get stuck and stuck hard. I have met a number of people holding all manner of belief systems that claim they are well into the third stage of enlightenment, people for the most part much younger than I am. I don’t mean to be judgemental, but most of these people are grasping and squeezing the rituals and the status of “enlightenment” that is awarded by participation in a particular belief system such as Ascendant Masters, Scientologists, Mystics, and so on. The New Age movement is rife with all sorts of esoteric belief systems that promise a way out of the messiness and discomfort of the imperfection of middle life.

To be honest, I can’t lay this all on the New Age movement for fundamentalist religious participation promises the same thing, promises enlightenment if one suspends all critical thinking and accepts the theology of the particular religion as the “Word of God.” And if one begins to doubt, the community of faith will rally around and pray for one to regain certainty, total and complete trust in the faith. One learns to deny one’s inner doubts, one’s own questions and even the stirrings of one’s own body. One learns to deny self, to deny the authority of self, to deny the evidence of the senses. And in that embracing of denial, one becomes a fanatic claiming enlightenment through faith and with that enlightenment, power. Men who gravitate to fundamentalism become blind to themselves as they cast their shadow and the shadow of their chosen people onto others who have not embraced their faith.

Our human history is a sordid, violent and angry history made by men who step into the role of the enlightened without having dealt with their personal imperfections. We have fought wars with God on our side, feeling justified in committing any and all dark behaviours on the heathens, on those who by definition of not being enlightened, are the mindless peasants and minions of the devil, of Satan.

The journey to enlightenment

For a man, even in our modern and more liberal societies, becoming aware of the dual nature of being a man, the dual nature of the universe as he sees and senses; and then accepting that dual nature which in turn changes his behaviour, even his manner of being present in the world – life becomes more problematical in relation to these fundamentalist groups be they religions or New Age movements. As a man becomes aware of his inner feminine, his manner of relating to the world is altered. He becomes a bit softer and gentler. Now a soft and gentle man becomes a target for those who feel threatened. Men feel their own masculinity being threatened, often seeing that softness and gentleness as signs of homosexuality. Women who are in relationships with these soft and gentle men feel their space being invaded and even their security being threatened – who will then protect and provide for them if their man stops being manly?

Yet, as Johnson points out, there is no way to enlightenment that does not cross completely through the messiness and complexity of middle life. One must abandon the blind obedience to dogma, to any given philosophy in order to be able to wrestle the demons of his inner darkness to a draw, to find balance between the darkness and light, to find that space between breaths – the field of true enlightenment.

Hanging out with the breakfast taco crowd in Belize City

As I continue this study of my gender and what it is to be a man, what it is to be masculine, I realise that while I am immersed in this journey of psyche, an inner world journey that is surrounded by an outer world in which I continue to exist as well. While search, I must continue to be a man with my partner, within the community I find myself in for the present here in Corozal which has a number of sub-communities embedded within it. I find myself in a community of expats, Americans and Canadians who have chosen to come here to make a new home or are searching for a new home base; as well as these expats, I have begun to interact with a few local men at the various shops, and on the street. Being a man is assumed by all I meet as I am obviously a senior, adult male. No one questions my identity as a man. That said, at the same time, I am digging deep into my head and heart trying to find answers to questions that are hard to put into words, questions about my identity as a man in this modern world.

“Jung insists that individuation is above all a dialogue with the unconscious psyche. The ego needs to maintain its essential connection with social reality as it attempts to ‘have it out’ with the unconscious forces. As the ego makes its ‘descent’ for the sake of renewal, it must resist the ‘inertia’ of the unconscious, and the forces that would paralyse it, and maintain human integrity at all costs.” [Tacey, Remaking Men, p. 19]

I have been there, finding myself so immersed in the psyche chasing down the shadows that I forgot about connecting with others. For a long time, I self-isolated and spent all my time on reading every depth psychology article I could find, recording and the plumbing the depths of my dreams, using meditation as a diving tool to take me further into the depths, only taking time out to connect with my analyst. My ego inflated as I saw myself as an authority, as a misunderstood and ignored wise man. I forgot that I was a human that was flawed deeply and needing the connection to others, to life, to my body.

“When we make contact with the unconscious, and so become privy to some of the collective secrets of the ages, we must compensate for this ‘dialogue with the Gods’ by increased amounts of humour and humility: two of the best antidotes to spiritual arrogance and inflation.” [ibid]

I know that I am not the only one who gets caught in the dialogue with the unconscious. If anything, when one approaches this dialogue without intention, the danger is even greater. One of my new friends here in Corozal is an American who is searching for property and a home here. He came with his wife and we have been together a number of times, two couples in Belize. His wife has no intention of moving to Belize. He hears her words but is so captured by his need that he can’t respond to her pain that is growing with his obsession with moving. His response is simply “I have been taking care of others all my life, I need to take care of myself, now.” Yet, he doesn’t know what that means or how to accomplish this need. I have learned that it is not achieved by changing addresses. One must wade in the unconscious keeping a line open to the conscious world at the same time. It is the only way to see the ripples that flow from the changes in oneself on others. We need to address these ripples and make conscious decisions based on reasoned outcomes. Will one truly be serving the self living alone in a foreign country when a wife of  many decades, children and grandchildren are left behind?

I don’t have the answers to these questions though I do know they need to be faced, questions of one’s participation in the outer world of place, things and relationships. It is hard enough to be a man without getting lost in the shadow land of the unconscious.

Crucifixion Roman style – Before the concept of modern political correctness.

I found this image somewhere on the Internet a while ago. Where? I don’t remember. It is taken from some work of art painted when there was no need to conceal the truth for some particular agenda. Maybe I shouldn’t use the word truth as I begin to doubt that there are any truths other that the swirling mass of thought within one’s head, a swirling mass that is rarely based on reality. All is illusion. Yet, if we are to have histories as a people, then we must be able to hold some of that history as being valid. Was there a Jesus Christ? Was he the son of God if he did exist? Personally, I do think that there was a man who was the person we call Jesus Christ. Was he a son of God? I would have to say yes as I truly believe that we are all sons and daughters, all the offspring of the initial creator.

The Risen Christ – Michelangelo

He was a man and he was a godling just like you are a godling. Like you and me, he was born naked out of the womb of a woman. Like you and me, he was a child, saw things children should never see, and suffered for it. Like you and me, he wrestled with his demons and resisted his singular path. For some reason, he was able to hold his singular path, a feat not many are able to accomplish because of fear, because of the cruel weight of community opinion. And like all others who dare to hold to their destiny, he was crucified by his community for daring to go against the collective shadow. The Romans crucified him in fact, but it was his community that forced the hand of the Romans to administer the death penalty for daring to challenge the status quo. The Romans crucified him in the Roman way – hanging him on a cross, naked so as to induce shame.

But for one who dares to follow the individual path that opens into light even as one goes forward seemingly into darkness, there is no shame, just a sadness for others, and a burning question – Why?

I have long struggled with this why and still have yet to find the answer. Perhaps there are no words that can serve as an answer. Perhaps the only answer that can emerge is the experience, step by step, that one passes through along the journey of one, a psychological and physical journey that Jung called individuation.  Perhaps it is a conceit on my part, but as I dare my own journey, sometimes at costs that I am loathe to pay, I find myself learning to forgive myself for my own darkness. And in forgiving myself, one dark shadow at a time, I am finding that the path ahead of me is beginning to be bathed in a faint light.

As I inch my way down this individual path, I wonder if it is all worth it. It seems to be costing too much in terms of relationships with others. I find myself wondering if this is far enough along the path. A voice within tells me, I have gone far enough, further than most others travel as if that pat on the back will be enough. Yet, I am in turmoil wondering if I am a coward. I know that I can’t turn around and run back to the past and the certainties of that past, even if there was suffering and pain in that pain - better the devil one knows - is a folk saying that I am tempted to adopt rather than pay the price that is required to go further along the path, a path that I know ends in my own crucifixion, and a resurrection.

Fer de lance – poisonous snake in Belize

I was able to get close enough to this not so small snake as I neared the end of a small group tour at the Lamanai Mayan ruins. It is called fer de lance, although it’s more correctly called Bothrops Asper, a member of the viper family. This snake is very dangerous. Still, I left the safety of the raised path I was on in order to get down to his level and get this photo, not a great photo, but good enough as I didn’t want to get too much closer. Apparently the lance de fer is commonly found around Mayan ruins and it has been suggested that the choice of location for a Mayan site was dependent upon the presence of poisonous snakes as a protective barrier. Of course, that sent me in search of more information which took me to Och Chan, or God K of the Mayan religion.

Och Chan – Mayan God – Snake God

I don’t want to tell too much here but perhaps save a bigger tale after I have been to Hell (Xibalba) and back a trip that will occur in the near future. For now, it is enough to know that the snake again figures in the original story of creation and again involves a woman. There, I hope that either sends you searching for more or whets your appetite for when I return to this topic sometime next week.

Shadows and light and darkness in Corozal, Belize

Another sunrise photo taken in Corozal, Belize, however this time the photo was taken by my wife while I was meditating in the garden just a few metres away. I decided to bring this photo here for a few reasons. First, there are shadows in this image that contrast to the light of the rising sun. Second, my meditating au naturel only a few feet away was in a way, an act that was prompted by shadow. Why do I say prompted by shadow? Well, meditating in full view of passers-by is something I would never have consciously done in the past. Always it was something to be done in an isolated situation, usually behind closed doors and closed drapes – even when it was done fully clothed. To meditate in full view of passers-by wearing nothing but the rays of the sun would have never even been considered let alone attempted. Of course, meditation in the tropics is vastly different from meditation back in my home community. There, the context of community has me retreat from public awareness. Few know that I meditate, none have seen me meditate, and perhaps even fewer would accept the notion of meditation skyclad. That I have become aware of this has shifted the behaviour from shadow to consciousness. That is, I have integrated that denied aspect of myself and now live it as fully and honestly as I can. I could have chosen not to integrate this aspect of self, a shadow face of myself, pushed it back. But I have learned that to do so would only end up in some eruption of negative behaviour, that would shock not only others, but myself as well.

In preparation for today’s post on the shadow, I came across these words written by Megge Hill Fitz-Randolph at Suite 101

“There is, indeed, an actual shadow-like energy that exists hidden from conscious mind yet contributing to the overall shape of the personality. This is what in psychological terms is meant by the shadow. It has become so popular in the lexicon it is worth understanding in more depth.

What Is Hidden

According to Carl Jung, the shadow is that part of the personality one chooses not to see. Usually of a vulgar, shameful, or corrupt nature, the shadow is comprised of whatever one cannot uphold in one’s idea of oneself. Not being integrated or even acknowledged by conscious mind, the shadow sits and waits in the unconscious.” [Fitz-Randolph "What is the Shadow in Jungian Psychology," July 2008]

When the shadow is not honoured, recognized, the self suffers. I know for myself, that suffering has often taken the form of depression and a brooding, quiet, resentful anger. At times I would find myself acting out inappropriately only to then become shamed by what I might have said or done or  of doing. My dreams tortured me by showing me what I was capable of in terms of behaviour and attitudes that seemed antithetical to my very being. In waking life, I am a prude, but in dreams I end up doing things that would make pimps and whores blanche. These dreams tortured and left me doubting my sanity. I felt fully unworthy of my life partner, unworthy even to be father to my children.  Rather than continue to deny these eruptions of shadow, I took them to my analyst, shared them with my partner and hoped for the best in terms of my children.

Today, the pressure of the shadow has lessened because of this work. Stalking the shadow, my shadow, has allowed me to return to life as a more conscious person. There is a long way to go but at least I am on the right road, the path of individuation.

Dawn in Corozal

Each morning I rise early hoping to catch the dawn. Several of the mornings have been cloud-filled delaying the appearance of the sun. When and if the sun appears, there is an up-welling of joy within me. And when the sun hides, I am patient for I know that another morning will be coming and with that new morning, another opportunity to participate in a spiritual ritual that in more about being alive, being aware and conscious of myself in the universe.I become part of the drama enacted with the rising of the sun as though I was some ancient priest of the sun, a magician, a wizard, a shaman. At moments like this I find myself reconnecting to ancestors that trace their roots through bloodlines of the Iroquois, Mohawk and Ojibway; ancestors that wandered the holy forests of Europe, Celtic and Gaelic bards and druids; ancestors that wandered through Persia and Egypt. I consciously bid the sun welcome into the world anew.

“The Magician energy is the archetype of awareness and of insight, primarily, but also of anything that is not immediately apparent or commonsensical. It is the archetype that governs what is called psychology “the observing Ego.” [Moore & Gillette, King Warrior Magician Lover, p. 106]

I understand this participation is as much conscious as it is unconscious. I don’t pretend that I really am a shaman or wizard or magician. I don’t believe that I am any of these as well for to believe that I was would only put my conscious self in peril.

It is fatal for the ego to fuse with any one of the archetypes, and those who encourage such fusions must be counted as the enemies of humanity.” [Tacey, Remaking Men, p. 19]

I sense the presence of archetypal forces at the edges of perception and acknowledge them with respect and wariness. To deny them would also be dangerous for ego for denial leads only to eruptions of shadow that would make me a victim of my own unconsciousness.

So, with a day begin honouring the spirits I sense but can never see, I can then move on to participate more fully in my daily life, aware of even the small things that make their way into my life.

Mennonite on Market Day making deliveries

This morning I went walking with my camera as usual to the centre of Corozal in order to buy some fresh vegetables and fruit as it was supposed to be the busiest of farmer market days. According to the gringos I have met so far, the best day to do such shopping because the Mennonites set up their stalls at the market and when they were at the market, they were the competition in terms of quality of produce and for some, even price. Once I had taken my photos of the area, I then wandered through a number of the surrounding grocery stores which are all owned and operated by Chinese merchants. At two of these stores I saw Mennonites were making deliveries to these stores as well. At their market stalls, and in the stores, the Mennonites were easy to identify because of their clothing. Another thing I noted, all of the Mennonites to be seen in Corozal were men.

There is a hardness to these Belizean Mennonite men, a hardness of purpose that doesn’t allow for waffling about what it is to be a man. Their approach to life is all about business and a very conservative fundamentalism. And like all fundamentalists, there are problems when it comes to toleration and respect for others, and even the environment. The last thing that would be welcome is the idea that all are individuals with individual needs and life journeys. For them, it is about foregoing the individual in favour of the collective. All questions that haunt, all urgings from the personal and collective shadow are denied.

“If individuation or confrontation with the unconscious, is courted, men will have to face whatever actually does emerge from the unconscious – whether or not it fits in with . . . ‘spiritual’ ideology or popular expectations and tastes.” [Tacey, Remaking Men, p. 13]

Perhaps then, the benefit of identifying with a group is worth much for a man who never wants to deal with his own shadow. But of course, even for fundamentalists which must include Mennonites, denying the personal shadow causes a bigger problem, the shadow being lived out by the community in relation to others outside the fundamentalist collective and with the earth. When one looks to the fundamental beliefs of fundamentalist Christians including Mennonites, or those who are still waiting for the Messiah such as Jehovah’s Witnesses, one can understand their unwavering hardness in relation to the earth and all on it – after all God said that man was to rule over all of it:

^“26 Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.

²⁷ So God created mankind in his own image  in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.

²⁸ God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”

²⁹ Then God said, “I give you every seed-bearing plant on the face of the whole earth and every tree that has fruit with seed in it. They will be yours for food. 

³⁰ And to all the beasts of the earth and all the birds in the sky and all the creatures that move along the ground—everything that has the breath of life in it—I give every green plant for food.” And it was so.” [Genesis 1:26-30]