Friday, February 25, 2011

No man is an island

For the first time in a long time I feel at a loss for words. It’s not writer’s block, that is when the words are there, but won’t come out, or come out all wrong. No, this is something different. Like a stillness, a waiting, a loss.

The Red Book Adventures, so called perhaps for my wanting it to be adventurous, has turned out to be dull, all the more so by finding articles confirming, as I had found, that there was really nothing to be found here, outside of pretty pictures. If The Red Book is Jung’s ‘gem’ then it is a gem that is meaningless, like a bejeweled wedding band after you’re divorced.

What I’ve been reading a lot about lately is trauma and rape. It leaves me silent and sad. Pondering the damage we do to each other. Reflecting on my role as a healer, and taking strength in knowing that we heal in relationship, and neuroscience proves conclusively, there is no single brain. Donne was so right on, “No man is an island.” Once again, art precedes science.

Monday, February 14, 2011

lonely hearts

(just for today)

the lonely hearts don’t end up in the box
with the other valentines

they are crumpled in the back of the desk
shoved back with the pencil shavings

the sign off crossed off after the letters were
formed so carefully

to show the love the longing the hope that
feelings are shared

then thought better of stupid love
stupid hearts stupid day

wait for tomorrow
it will go away

Day 5

Jung’s life unfolds; on page 231 of The Red Book, he writes, “When I had the vision of the flood in October of the year 1913, it happened at a time that was significant for me as a man. At that time, in the fortieth year of my life, I had achieved everything that I had wished for myself. I had achieved honor, power, wealth, knowledge, and every human happiness.” Before I go on with what Jung says next, I just want to pause here. Pause. Go get a drink of water, or a candy bar. Who can say this at 40? Everything that I had wished for myself. I often wonder if any woman could ever say this. (The Twain in me.) Can a woman ever have everything she’s ever wanted in a man’s world?

There have been times in my life where I’ve had everything I’ve ever wanted. But perhaps my wants were too small. I wonder if I’m insane to even try to measure my life against Jung’s? What am I looking for in The Red Book? What does Jung say next? “Then my desire for the increase of these trappings ceased, the desire ebbed from me and horror came over me. The vision of the flood seized me and I felt the spirit of the depths, but I did not understand him. Yet he drove me on with unbearable inner longing and I said: ‘My soul, where are you? Do you hear me? I speak. I call you-are you there? I have returned. I am here again. I have shaken the dust of all the lands from my feet, and I have come to you. I am with you. After long years of long wandering, I have come to you again (p. 232).’ ”

Perhaps what life is is a going out into the world, into the extra world (taken from the concept of Jung’s introversion and extroversion), as Jung did, and finding some level of success and then a return to the inner world for renewal. If Jung’s The Red Book is a journey into his soul, his spirit, then he once again gives back to the external world, if not 100 hundred years later, like Twain, but 48 years later, with it’s publication. Jung died in 1961, The Red Book, 2009.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

The Red Book Adventures Days 2-4

Day 2

I open the box and take out the book. It is a book for a giant. I feel like I’ve got something totally from another world. Full of fantasy pictures and just so well, huge. I leaf through it and put it aside. So un-yieldy and big, I’ve stumbled into a giant’s castle and stolen his book.

Day 3

I start to read The Red Book. I am daunted and unsure. I have to lean onto the book to be able to read it. It feels uncomfortable and yet the words bring me a history of Jung. I start to see the patterns and schemas and it’s unnerving, I’m not so sure that I want to understand this much anymore. This is a brief shakedown: Jung’s father is a minister. Jung therefore is steeped in Christian tradition and metaphor, if not belief. These metaphors and world views permeate the worldview of Jung’s time and place.

Day 4

The introduction reminds me of the turn of the century, pre world war II. Hypnosis, Freud, mediums conducting seances, the world of fairies, this is the world into which Jung is growing up. Ironically, I read a Time (Nov. 22, 2010) article on Mark Twain today. Finally, it is 100 years since Twain’s death, and so his complete autobiography is being published. Seems this guy who was so acerbic, understood the power of his pen. Twain decried the new worship of money by saying about rogue financier Jay Gould that he was “The mightiest disaster which has ever befallen this country.” Twain continues, “The people had desired money before his day, but he taught them to fall down and worship it.” But it is this quote by Twain that most intrigues me: “[Mankind] was not made for any useful purpose, for the reason that he hasn’t served any; that he was most likely not even made intentionally; and that his working his way up out of the oyster bed to his present position was probably a matter of surprise and regret to the Creator (p. 104).”

Twain predates Jung by about 40 years, was on a different continent, yet nonetheless, seemed to also be probing this infernal question: Why are we here? Whereas Twain is witty and blasphemous, Jung is ever serious and the mystic, and in The Undiscovered Self, says this:

All mass movements, as one might expect, slip with the greatest ease down an inclined plane made up of large numbers. Where the many are, there is security; what the many believe must of course be true; what the many want must be worth striving for; and necessary, and therefore good. In the clamour of the many resides the power to snatch wish-fulfilments by force, sweetest of all, however, is that gentle and painless slipping back into the kingdom of childhood, into the paradise of parental care, into happy-go-luckiness and irresponsibility. All the thinking and looking after are done from the top; to all questions there is an answer, and for all needs the necessary provision is made. The infantile dream-state of the mass man is so unrealistic that he never thinks to ask who is paying for this paradise. The balancing of accounts is left to a higher political or social authority, which welcomes the task, for its power is thereby increased; and the more power it has, the weaker and more helpless the individual becomes (p. 33).

Who is paying for this paradise? Have things really changed as we are now in the 21st century? What changes? What stays the same? Who is God? What is man? Do the answers that we give ourselves to these questions have any impact on our real, lived lives? Solomon, in all his wisdom said, “This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.” Ecclesiastes 1:17-19 brings us this from Solomon: “I said to myself, ‘Look, I have increased in wisdom more than anyone who has ruled over Jerusalem before me; I have experienced much of wisdom and knowledge.’ Then I applied myself to the understanding of wisdom, and also of madness and folly, but I learned that this, too, is a chasing after the wind. For with much wisdom comes much sorrow;  the more knowledge, the more grief.”

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

The Red Book Adventures

It’s February in Minnesota. Some folks go on trips, vacations, around now. Lots of people I know actually, a couple of friends to Hawaii, another to the West coast. My mom is in Orange County somewhere, with my brother. My brother who is estranged from me, I believe because I am poor and perhaps because I question my faith, I’m not sure why, and we’re not able to talk about it; he’s uptight, but still my mom is warm.

So, this is my vacation, what I’m calling The Red Book Adventures, traipsing through Jung’s psyche, if you can imagine that. In a moment of desire for the book, I decided to justify the cost by thinking of it as a textbook, and creating this quest for the beginnings of Jungian psychology. Well, it’s not necessarily warm and sunny, but it’s a trip. Here’s my travelogue.

Day 1

My own actual copy of The Red Book lies in the box on my coffee table, unopened. I’m not sure why when it arrived days ago I didn’t just jump to open it like I do most of my boxes from Amazon. What will I find on this adventure? I just finished watching a ten minute intro to this work on Amazon by Dr. Murray Stein. It made me both more interested and a bit afraid. This short lecture spoke of the power of suffering as one of the points of the Christian story that Jung addresses in The Red Book. The Christian idea of suffering has affected more of my life than I care to admit. Suffering, hmmm. I will open the box, and open the book. I am brave, but I am afraid of suffering.

The book is still unopened but the adventure has started. I read up on The Red Book on Wikipedia, one of my favorite sources (truly). On my cyber travels I meet Robert Thurman. In googling The Red Book, it seems that as part of marketing this book, famous people were interviewed on this book, and Thurman was one of them. Wikipedia has this to say about Robert Thurman: “Robert Alexander Farrar Thurman (born August 3, 1941) is an influential and prolific American Buddhist writer and academic who has authored, edited or translated several books on Tibetan Buddhism. He is the Je Tsongkhapa Professor of Indo-Tibetan Buddhist Studies at Columbia University, holding the first endowed chair in this field of study in the United States. He also is the co-founder and president of the Tibet House New York and is active against the People's Republic of China's control of Tibet.” It goes on to say that Thurman was “the first American Buddhist monk of the Tibetan Buddhist tradition.” He is also the father of Uma Thurman. Who knew?