Archives for category: Jungian Analysis

The privilege of a lifetime is to become who you truly are.

There is no coming to consciousness without pain.

Carl Jung

REFLECTIONS

THE IMAGO

Usually when I sit down to write, I have a theme that surfaces from the richness of the Unified Field. But not today. My thoughts run helter-skelter, scrambled and chaotic… I write some words, make some sentences…erase some words and then erase everything…I stare at a blank page…then start the process once more…then I glance outside and watch the robins and then I notice a butterfly and then the shadow dance of leaves in the breeze…now it’s noon…word count 3…997 to go…I’ve been wandering through my mind for 2 hours…

I, Between2Marys, feel like these minor utterances on my blank page. Like a bolt of material or a block of marble of a stack of lumber, I am caterpillar soup. If you were to cut open a cocoon or chrysalis at just the right moment, you would see neither a caterpillar nor a butterfly. You would see a liquid, amorphous mess of imaginal cells. Cells that look undifferentiated but hold the power to be eyes, wings, legs or antennae. In biology, the imago is the last stage an insect attains during its metamorphosis. It is within this final process of growth and development that the insect attains maturity.

I AM NEITHER A CATERPILLAR NOR A BUTTERFLY

Rather, I am in this embryonic phase…

Undifferentiated Cells within the Chrysalis

Undifferentiated Cells within the Chrysalis

between my old life where I dared not dream my own dreams and this new life where my dreams abound. 

The Aftermath of Last Week’s Post – Transforming the Animus

Liver Detoxification

Within minutes of ‘publishing’ week 47 of 52, I became so ill with fever, diarrhoea and vomiting, I was forced to lay on my couch for 2 days…full-on liver detoxification. It was as though  every stored disappointment, every stored sad thought, every stored anxious or enraged encounter I ever had with my father and subsequent men, oozed out of my pores, bile ducts, stomach and liver. Like cleaning the sludge from a polluted river, the troublesome contaminants (in the form of  thoughts and feelings) had to be eliminated. I was no longer the little girl forced to keep her thoughts and feelings to herself. Nor was I the needy, insecure woman, dependent on the approval of a man. As an empowered woman, launching her creative life, it was time to let go of any impediments to the free expression of my dreams. By mid-week, I walked into my garden, knowing it would become an expression of me. Gone were my feelings of reticence or incompetence. My path had become clear.

My Path is Clear

My Path is Clear

 

Similarly within the chrysalis, anything unnecessary to the life of the butterfly is destroyed by tissue dissolving enzymes. Amazingly, this highly sophisticated process , whether within the human body or the chrysalis, discriminates between that which is valuable to the new life and that which is detrimental…eliminating the detritus as part of the process.

Now, as I feel less symptomatic, I can marvel at my body’s capacity to restore and re-new itself. 

THE OTHER WOMAN BLOG

Experiencing Freedom!

Experiencing Freedom!

As the year of theotherwomanblog nears its 52nd week, I feel the burgeoning life of a wild and free woman. As I move towards the Summer Equinox, when all species come into bloom, I have the desire to break the shackles of containment and live the ‘unframed’ life…to plan far far less than I ever have… to allow instead the call of of the wild, the instinctual, the intuitive. I will invoke the ethereal guidance and support of my Spirit Guides, found beneath my mind. If I feel drawn to a book, a person, an activity or a thought, I will not question this impulse, but instead have the faith to follow.

The collage that inspired theotherwomanblog was created in a place of Spirit. I never questioned any image I was drawn to include. And only upon completion of the collage, did I understand the importance of its message.

I am posting a day early because tomorrow I am putting my work aside and driving to Victoria for some fun! For a snippet of all things Viennese, I am attending a Dramatic Reading of The Boy on the Bicycle by Peter Schnitzler. He is a film director out of Los Angeles, but was born in Vienna. He is the grandson of the very famous author, Arthur Schnitzler whose writings created quite a stir in 1900’s Vienna. The movie, Eyes Wide Shut, was based on his book, Dream Story. The theme of both centre on the fantasy of breaking free of societal mores…a fitting topic for a wild and free woman.

Sexual Fantasy

Sexual Fantasy


Like a French poem is life; being only perfect in structure when with the masculine rhymes mingled the feminine are.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REFLECTIONS

From Seedpod to Bloom – Synergy of the Sexes

Part the earth and plant a seed. Mother Earth’s fertile, moist richness willingly receives this seed. Her power lies in her capacity to initiate the process of transformation. Mother Earth provides the nurturing receptacle that will ignite the life of the seed. But then, the plenipotent* masculine must arise and thrust through the surrounding earth. Only when the masculine and feminine interact synergistically, in perfect symbiosis, will the plant reach its zenith. Metaphorically then, my ideas are created and nurtured in the bountiful Feminine, but need the drive and determination of my action-oriented Masculine to become a tangible product.(Jung named the masculine energy within the woman, the animus)

In creating theotherwomanblog, I have given voice to my desire to be a writer. I am excited, impassioned and fulfilled every time I sit at my computer, and give birth to a new post. This experience is the symbiosis of the feminine and the masculine. Like a great river in nature, ideas flow endlessly, exciting my soul as I venture along this unparalleled creative path. I feel the pounding surge of new life within me, reminiscent of watching my daughters squirm and stretch in utero. But ideas, just like babies, must be born…given the chance to live outside the safety of the womb, the heart, the mind. If the ideas remained in my head, as they did for years, never manifesting into a sharable product… then I would be now as I once was in my old life…near death…like a stagnant river without flow, lacking vitality, gasping for air. Thus is the perfection of creativity! I am fed inwardly, soulfully, while simultaneously feeding and nourishing outwardly, by sharing my product.

Can I Manifest Other Dreams?

I have been trying to universalize my writing experience. Can I live other aspects of my life in a way that feeds my soul, while enriching the souls of others.

Here are just a few of my dreams:

1. I want to design my own garden, ending my reliance on my talented gardener, John.

2. I want to visit Vienna in July, as an empowered woman, open to the riches of the city.

3. I want to write a memoir or novel encapsulating theotherwomanblog experience.

4. I want to cycle Lake Constance in Switzerland.

5. I want to create a workshop, with an accompanying manual, in which I will help women free themselves from captivity…reducing their tendency to capitulate or coerce or kowtow, and instead find the courage to overcome the obstacles to living an impassioned life..

Tending My Garden – Dream #1

A few days ago I asked myself, Between2Marys, what do you hunger for? The answer came quickly. I hunger to create my garden, digging in the earth, planting and caring for all the life that has found its way into my yard…and then the reverie ended and I froze. Here was a clear desire, but where was my confidence to execute it? For 8 years I have watched with envy as my gardener, John, effortlessly designed and created my garden. His work seemed like magic, and beyond my capability. Logically, this was never true. Of course I was capable, but each time I thought about creating my garden, a judgemental, negative voice would descend upon me, leaving me feeling inadequate… not up to the task…forcing me to leave the execution of my dreams to the ‘experts’.

Invoking My Positive Animus

I needed to invoke my newly developed positive animus, to be my helpmate, to act in loving service to me…to help manifest my ideas and ideals. The attributes of the inner masculine include strength, decisiveness and a quality of protectiveness. Embracing this newly developed positive animus, I got in my truck and drove to a Garden centre. Once there, i became overwhelmed and almost drove away. I sat in the truck for 15 minutes until I felt strong. I then walked between rows and rows of plants, until their very presence calmed my anxiety. Step by excruciating step, I began to create my dream. 

New Life

Exhilarating Labour!

Exhilarating Labour!

Tools of the Trade

Making Peace with the “Father Complex”

In this year of theotherwomanblog, I wanted to free the woman within, to give voice to my creativity, ensuring I live with passion and purpose. My newly found voice has come from making peace with my ‘internalized’ man. Through the myriad forces of family, culture and my own actions, I developed a very deleterious, menacing animus. My one-sided, negative view of the masculine nature affected my interactions with men. To me, men were self-serving, emotionally unavailable betrayers.

It is amazing that I ever had dates, let alone marriages! My brutish stance devastated the men I interacted with, as well as leaving me questioning my ability to think or act. This year’s journey has given me the opportunity to examine my early years with my father as well as society’s attitudes towards women. I have dug very deep into the truth of my long held prejudices towards men, ultimately realizing that the perspective I created as a child, no longer served me, the adult woman. 

It is crucial for me to have within my psyche, a devoted, wise and lovingly present animus. Not only will this result in loving relationships with men, but this positive inner energy will give me the strength to realize my dreams!

GLOSSARY

plenipotent – invested with full power

The Black Madonna is a Mother who is aware of the hardships that happen to us, in and out of the dark of unknowing, unconsciousness, ignorance and innocence.

-Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes

REFLECTIONS

My daughter sent me a warning the other day. Her email’s subject said, “Mercury In Retrograde – Take Precautions.”

Trying to be a ‘cool’ mom, I glibly responded with, “I’m up there with Mercury, holding her hand, demonstrating retrograde behaviour at its finest.” I had always thought retrograde just meant regressive, but after a quick check with Merrian Webster I discovered to my ‘New Age’ delight that retrograde could also mean, moving contrary to a previous direction. Smugly, I thought to myself, “I’m not going backwards after all, I’m going in a new direction!” I immediately felt better about myself. In a typically self-satisfied, ‘I’ve got my karmic act together’, kind of ego – inflatedness, I decided I didn’t need to read the advice on successful navigation when Mercury is in retrograde, and began to answer emails. The wiser Universe immediately proved to me yet again, that my smugness will have me on my knees begging for a second chance to be a more humble person.

GETTING MY KARMIC COMEUPPANCE OR OWNING MY PROJECTIONS

Last fall, having joyfully participated in Deepak Chopra’s free 21 Day Meditation Challenge, I was sent his latest offer. Although similar in format, this time Deepak is teaming up with Oprah. Seeing the image of Oprah ‘hugging’ Deepak, I sent the photo below, along with a message to my daughter…(or so I thought it was sent to my daughter)…saying “Is Oprah Strangling Deepak?”  

She Who Laughs last, laughs Alone

But pesky Mercury had me click REPLY not FORWARD, so my message went right back to DEEPAK at the Chopra Institute. I only know this because of the reply I received from the Chopra Institute:

Your request (#48094) has been received and will be reviewed and replied to by our Help Desk staff within 24 business hours of receipt.

Needless to say, I never got a response from the Help Desk, as they probably realized I was beyond any help they could give me! I am writing about this for 2 reasons.

1) Don’t ignore warnings, especially those sent by your more intuitive children, who know your faults and foibles better than anyone.

 2) To share my experience of projection, a Jungian concept that defies comprehensible explanation, and continues to baffle me. But here goes.

In reality, I know nothing of the relationship between Oprah and Deepak. Therefore, my comment about Oprah having Deepak in a half nelson says everything about me…not Oprah. In a projection, I take an unacknowledged, unpleasant quality of my own and instead of owning up to it, I ‘see’ it in another person. In this particular projection, I don’t want to acknowledge my tyrannical tendencies with men, when I don’t get the love I want. I would rather believe and have others believe that I am always a loving woman, just unlucky in love. There is no grace or growth in the endless gossip and tittle-tattle of daily life. I apologize to you Oprah, for projecting my character flaw onto you.

SPENDING MONEY – THE COMPOSTER VERSUS  FACIAL SKIN REJUVENATION

The other day, I was simultaneously searching the net for the most efficacious compost system and the best facial skin rejuvenation technology.

I found experts on both, with whom I discussed my purchase options…and then I had to laugh! With one, the Jura garden composter, I am acknowledging the end of the life cycle…with the other I am fruitlessly clinging to a youth long gone. The juxtaposition of two such wildly opposing attitudes hoisted me onto the cross of indecision. On one side, if I purchase a composter for my new garden, I can contribute to the cycle of organic food feeding my body, creating a ‘natural beauty’. On the other side, if I have my face zapped with radio and light beams, I could create a new and improved me…or could I have both? Unable to decide, I went for a walk on the beach.

BROKEN YET STILL BEAUTIFUL

Yesterday’s tide was extremely low which meant I could look for treasures in places usually under water…and there it is…the metaphor for uncovering the gems of the unconscious. Given the right conditions, new life manifests. This process needs the synchronistic collision of The Universe and an individual’s intention. The Universe provided the low tide, and I got my ‘imprisoned’ self out for a walk. Typically, I find 1 or 2 pieces of this coveted glass, but yesterday I found at least 50…turquoise, cobalt blue, green and yellow. Uncovering the gems hidden within our unconscious can be equally rewarding. Hidden in the dark swirl of fear, I can stand frozen…the pain of remaining in the place of suffering lays opposite to moving into an unknown world. Immobility over mundane real world dilemmas such as illustrated above(composter vs facial rejuvenation) happens similarly within our inner, psychic world. In both, we can hang frozen, hoisted on the cross of indecision, until we die, or surrender to the creation of a new and better life. The beautiful, broken beach glass that I had found in the past, was thus transformed by my dear friend, Colleen Belyea(This Little Bauble). Below are 2 examples of her creations.

Aspirations for Week 35 of 52

Revisiting Black Madonna of Czestochwa

In 1993, my 86 year old Aunty Mary visited me in Vienna. My middle name is Mary –  a tribute to het being surrogate mother to my mother. My maternal grandmother died in childbirth, leaving 7 children motherless. Aunty Mary and I planned a trip to Poland, our country of origin, so that we could visit Black Madonna of Czestochowa. Incomprehensibly, I was fascinated by her. Up until a couple of days ago, I have not thought much about Black Madonnas…also incomprehensible. But in reading Untie the Strong Woman by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, the journey into Poland came flooding back. Historians believe the Black Madonna of Czestochowa, may have been the table top used by the Holy Family. She may have been painted by Luke, the Apostle. Incredulously, this Black Madonna has several battle scars on her face, that have defied countless attempts at restoration! She is considered to be a warrior Madonna and a healer of the crippled, the harmed. Maybe it is she, who has been watching over me, helping me heal my crippled, arthritic body and broken heart.

So in honour of my Aunty Mary and Black Madonna of Czestochowa, I will leave my face to bear the scars of my hard won battles. Just as the beach glass is broken, but still beautiful, so too am I.

410px-Czestochowska[20]

REFLECTIONS

There can be no transforming of darkness into light without emotion

-Carl Jung

As I move towards the longest night of the year, I am compelled to walk into the inky starless sky, where I fear goblins under bridges and sea creatures under black waves. Feelings deep in my core perturb me…panic ensues and I try to run, but not wildly with the wolves, but cowardly with the jackals. What is this place I meet every year, in December? An internal war begins. Plans for the celebration of Christmas… singing carols, drinking Gluhwein, meeting family and friends… compete with an overwhelming urge to dig myself into a hole, lying in pain, in the dark. So I write a poem…

The Dark I Fear

 You are the wave I cannot stop.

You wash over me

You drag me under

You engulf my very soul.

 You are the wound I cannot staunch.

You bleed my pain

You ooze my libido

You thief of joy and hope.

 Your presence surrounds me like a gas.

I have no choice  but to inhale.

 Beaten

I

Succumb.

 forlorn

forsaken

diminished

bereft

 I weep the tears of the broken.

-Between2Marys December 2012

This fall, in an effort to create the life I desire, I put out a feeler to see if other writers in my area wanted to form a group. I wanted to meet with fellow ‘scribblers’ who shared my passion for creating, using the written word. Happily, I had a group of 8 almost instantly. My expectation was that we would be an encouraging and supportive environment.

After our first meeting in November, I happily added this group of writers to my list of those I alert via email, when I have launched a new post. I began this mailout in July 2012, a few weeks into The Other Woman Blog, for 2 reasons…first and most importantly, I wanted to share the real me with my friends, in an effort to end the life I had lived, under the umbrella of the persona. This was a huge risk, as I was ‘coming out’, vulnerable and naked, without the veneer of bravado and pretence. The second reason was less personal, but equally important to me. I wanted an audience, so I began to create a readership. This number has tripled in size since July when I began…WOW! (although if I only had 2 readers then, I’d have 6 now)…Conclusive statements from statisticians can so easily mislead…( NOTE as soon as I veer into the left brain, waxing on about  ‘statisticians’ …get suspicious, I’m avoiding…I’m more comfortable here than in the pain of existence) I’m embarrassed to admit how a trivial trigger spiralled me into the world of the dispirited, the disheartened, the disenchanted.

Here is the trigger…one comment I received back from my mailout to my writers’ group contained 8 simple words and a period. “I would rather not receive your blog updates.”

These 8 words and a period hurt my feelings deeply. I was drawn back to my sighting of the Canada Goose, shot through her foot by an arrow, that I had encountered on a walk in Week 21 of 52. When I had come upon her in the grasses, I had identified with her desperation but at the time I could not understand why. In my anthropomorphisation of her, I imagined her soaring alone with ease and confidence, doing what she was born to do. I then imagined her shock at being assaulted by the arrow of a heartless hunter. With her foot thus impaled, her demise became almost inevitable… By chance she was struck and by chance she might be saved.

I wanted to ignore the comment’s impact, by laughing it off or retaliating. I tried to prevent my tumble into the dark by listing everything I was grateful for, and when that didn’t work, I tried distracting myself with a French Mystery Series while eating calming carbs… but eventually I succumbed to the negative power of this force. In this black hole, I give up on my life…I stop writing and creating art, I stop having fun, and certainly stop all encounters with D! I pretend to be living. I smile, I talk, I act quite involved…but the real person has disappeared. I stop expressing from my heart and soul. The soaring bird has been quelled.

Injured Canada Goose

Injured Canada Goose

Why would this simple request from a fellow writer send me into a dispirited and hopeless place. It would only have this power if it was reminiscent of a deeply hurtful time in my childhood.

Childhood Memories

Childhood Memories

In December I feel vulnerable, as this season opens the ‘yet to be healed’ wounds of my youth, where my expectations for family joy and harmony were crushed by the dark reality of family unpredictability and chaos. Although The Other Woman Blog has allowed me to return to the soulful and hopeful person I once was, by letting me express aspects of myself that have remained buried beneath a pile of human dung, flung from adults behaving poorly, at this moment I am susceptible to judgement.

ASPIRATIONS FOR WEEK 23 OF 52

CHANGING IN THE DARK

I am in the dark right now, feeling the pain of the shunned soul. So now I will freely shed the tears of the child, knowing I will be comforted by my stronger self and all the other souls on earth who have felt like misfits in an incomprehensible world.  Wounding words of judgement, hurled by the weak, are flimsy barriers to our wildly creative selves. So for Week 23 of 52, I will let my painful emotions surface, having faith that through this release the darkness will lift, permitting the lights of Christmas to shine.

Emotion-Bringing Light to the Dark

Emotion-Bringing Light to the Dark

%d bloggers like this: