Friday evening I invited a younger work colleague for dinner at my apartment. Her own spiritual journey has been intensifying recently. She has frequently asked me questions about my journey. Not that any of us are ever an expert on the journey, I do have a few more years in my spiritual journey experience bank. Since we aren't working together any more, dinner seemed to be a more appropriate solution than attempting to text about the journey, as we have since I changed jobs.
After dinner, we pulled our chairs over to the bookshelf--the one with spiritual titles, not the one with books related to work. I've been feeling spiritually fidgety for most of the year, but especially since changing jobs. As I shared with her some of my favorite titles, I was learning again for myself. When I pulled out Carol Pearson's The Hero Within, a book explicitly about the spiritual journey described through Jungian archetypes, a diagram fell out. What immediately jumped to my eye as I glanced at "Three Turns Around the Hero's Wheel," (p. 14) was the archetype of "The Wanderer," whose purpose is to provide clarity to the next stage of life.
The diagram is like a pie with each of five pieces devoted to one of five archetypes. The inner wedge of each piece/archetype describes the lessons for the first journey around the wheel. Pearson explains that we go through the journey several times each life and with each we have a different lessons to learn on each archetype. (I attempted to find a reproduction of the diagram online, but most are much more complicated than the simple-yet-clear version on yellowed pages that I have. Markings on my own render it useless to others.)
The progression of archetypes that we go through starts with "orphan," where we learn "trust." You might think about this as disappointment that things aren't as you might have thought they were but learning trust in an emerging, but not at all yet clear, world view. "Orphan" is followed by "Wanderer" where the lesson is "clarity." This is how the "not at all yet clear world view" gets clarity--we listen and learn about the next evolution of how things really are. You might also think about this as the time in the desert, demonstrated in many spiritual stories, including Abraham, Moses and Jesus, involve time spent alone in reflection.
After we have clarity, we move to the "Warrior," where we might have to fight for what we've received spiritual clarity about. Embarking on the lessons in order is critical; otherwise, we might be fighting for the wrong things. The warrior is about learning and claiming "power." The lesson after "Warrior" is that of "Martyr," where we learn about "love" and giving our lives to the Universe. The last of the five archetypes is the "Magician." The lesson of the "Magician" is "joy." Then we are ready to be "Orphans" again.
So what does this have to do with me...now?
I've spent a lot of time stuck in "Orphan." Instead of learning the lesson of "trust," the long stall there exposed me to repeated examples where I couldn't/didn't let go of the expectations I had and move on to wander and figure things out. My experience with this transition is that it requires a leap of faith, but each time I've had the courage to take it, everything has worked out perfectly. For example, when I chose to leave Oregon, buy a house in North Carolina as I'd been guided to do, and drive across the country without a job or even knowing anyone, I was taken care of. Work fell into may path within a week, but I had to wander first.
I've also spent way too much time in "Warrior" in recent years where I was fighting to survive rather than fighting for the spiritual truth I should have learned in "Wanderer." When I've made the journey successfully before, I have found my inner power, the power that comes from connection with the divine and knowing if I do what is right and true, I will be OK. When I've fought to survive, I've tried to control or manipulate things to assure I'd be taken care of rather than taking the leap of faith knowing I would be OK.
While the move to North Carolina worked out splendidly, there have been times when I have been "invited" into the desert, and I didn't follow, and it hasn't worked out so well. On February 4, 2004, I received a clear message that I should move to Washington, D.C. Depleted of resources from the dot.com bust and without a job in D.C., my reply was "I will do it when I have a job." I looked but didn't find one. Of course, that is not how this is supposed to work. Leap of faith occurs first and then it works out.
One of the scripture readings in church today was about Jacob wrestling with the angel or God. Our pastor said he always thought this passage was about our internal struggles. Do I do what I want or do I do what God wants? For the 28 months between my message to move to Washington and when I actually did move, almost everything of value was taken from me. Yet, I struggled to control the transition by insisting on having a job first. I should have wandered.
Last March when I told my old boss that I would leave my job at the end of the summer, I think what the Universe heard was that finally I had relented to go into the desert and find the next manifestation of me and my spiritual truth. As the end of the summer approached, I was totally at peace. I had accumulated vacation pay, and my financial planner and I had figured out how I could get by for several months after that. Then, the job offers started coming--three of them, and they were good ones. So I took the bait. I could leave my job, go to a new one, and I wouldn't have to take the leap of faith, I thought to myself. And, I also wouldn't learn the lesson of wandering.
When the diagram fell onto the floor Friday evening, in a flash I realized I had robbed myself of my season in the desert. While it isn't exactly the bold leap of faith that leaving my old job without a new one would have been, I leave on Tuesday for a meandering trip to the Midwest, reconnecting with old friends and one of my few remaining relatives. The wedding of the son of a dear friend lies at the end of the journey, but in the stillness of my road trip, I expect that I will find passages into my truth.
Showing posts with label archetypes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label archetypes. Show all posts
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Sunday, November 8, 2015
Woman's Work
What is "woman's work"? While the very question may suggest to male readers that this is not a post that relates to them, that would be inaccurate. What I am writing about here is the spiritual growth of the feminine in each of us, both male and female. The Father of Modern Psychology Carl Jung and his followers believe that mythology offers archetypes of aspects of the human psychology, which describe spiritual lessons that we must learn in order to become more whole.
Jungians generally point to the myth of Psyche and Eros as the myth that describes the spiritual journey of the psychological feminine in all of us. For those who like all the details, I apologize for what will be the 50,000-foot view of this myth.* Conveying the details of the myth are not my purpose here. Suffice it to say, the name "Psyche" means soul and also means butterfly. The myth is about the transition that our soul's make in transforming from chrysalis, the soul as promise, to beautiful and mature butterfly.
The myth symbolizes Psyche's work with a lamp and a knife, and her work is to take a good look at the person she is in relationship to other people, things, and situations. At the start of the myth, she is pretty much unconscious, simply doing what she is told or expected to do.
As her transition progresses, she is forced to look at things differently, creatively, and intuitively because a set of tasks that she must complete would be impossible, given the context from which she starts. Along the way, Psyche learns to listen to her own rhythms and to not get emotionally attached. For the feminine in many of us, her lesson about learning to say "no" and protect her boundaries will resonate.
The lesson of Psyche is often described as "sorting," and it is in that context that I've been revisiting this myth that I first read at least 30 years ago. Both literally and metaphorically, I am in a transition period wherein I have the opportunity to work away from the toxic environment of my normal job for four and a half months. What a perfect opportunity to be able to play around with options in my life without making any permanent commitments.
A former colleague and I lunched on Friday about how transforming it had been to be out of that work environment, freed of the pain-generating physical tension both of us had experienced. With literally a full day of extra time each week, we actually have "a life" again. I have found my humor and creativity return as I work in a respectful and supportive situation.
I confess that the Adrenalin withdrawal has been a struggle, but like any addict who has gone through withdrawal, I have come through the other side happier, healthier, and with more than a little trepidation about slipping back into the addiction when/if I go back to my real job. That brings me to my first sorting. Symbolically, using Psyche's lamp and knife, I am examining my relationship to my job, and maybe to work in general.
Because of a later in life business failure, I have felt driven to rebuild financial assets to support me through retirement. Confronted by age discrimination all around me, I've forced myself to do more and better in whatever I do to counter the occasional ageist jibe. I've also taken jobs that didn't use my strengths, abilities, or creativity to have a regular paycheck. While I do seriously need a regular paycheck for several years, I am no longer willing to work to my weaknesses. That is the lamp shining on my relationship to work. I haven't yet mustered the courage to use the knife to sever ties, but it is much more difficult to keep doing what I've been doing with the light of exploration shining on it.
There is other sorting I choose to do. The house of a friend was flooded about a month ago. He texted me about all the things he was having to throw away. I was more than a little jealous. For some time, I've been bumping into an accumulation of things that are no longer useful or desirable, and, when I do, I wonder, why don't I get rid of that? There is also a growing accumulation of things that I've received for gifts that I don't and won't use, but I have felt that I need to hang onto for fear of offending the giver. For several years, I've asked friends to not give me material gifts but instead plan to do something together, but largely my pleas have fallen on deaf ears.
I am also recognizing the need to sort activities more judiciously, so step away from habitual activities or things that I "should" do and to plan to devote time to things that are important to me. During the six weeks I've been in my temporary job, I have started to exercise regularly again, and tomorrow I will meet a colleague after work to practice a dance routine for a talent show which will raise money for charity. Still on the list of things to choose, strengthening exercise in addiction to aerobic. Live theater is working its way back into my schedule.
Using the knife to cut away other activities that I have missed and enjoyed to make time for writing has been more difficult. While I say it is a priority, choosing to write regularly is something that regular readers of this blog will attest is not something I've made time for as I did even two years ago. Cooking is a delight, and I know that I spend a disproportionate amount of time doing so. Is it wrong to spend too much time in something which brings me pleasure? Is that even the correct question? Perhaps I need to weigh writing against cooking before I decide where to use the knife of sorting. I enjoy volunteering and I believe service is how we make a life, but knowing where to say "no" among things I enjoy is challenging.
I have my lamp out and my knife in hand to do the "woman's work" to which the myth of Psyche points. I am eager to take the chrysalis of awareness and transform it into the butterfly of conscious living. Doing so, though, is, well, work...the work of my soul.
*For an extended discussion of the Myth of Psyche and Eros, see: http://www.peace.ca/mythofpsyche.htm
Jungians generally point to the myth of Psyche and Eros as the myth that describes the spiritual journey of the psychological feminine in all of us. For those who like all the details, I apologize for what will be the 50,000-foot view of this myth.* Conveying the details of the myth are not my purpose here. Suffice it to say, the name "Psyche" means soul and also means butterfly. The myth is about the transition that our soul's make in transforming from chrysalis, the soul as promise, to beautiful and mature butterfly.
The myth symbolizes Psyche's work with a lamp and a knife, and her work is to take a good look at the person she is in relationship to other people, things, and situations. At the start of the myth, she is pretty much unconscious, simply doing what she is told or expected to do.
As her transition progresses, she is forced to look at things differently, creatively, and intuitively because a set of tasks that she must complete would be impossible, given the context from which she starts. Along the way, Psyche learns to listen to her own rhythms and to not get emotionally attached. For the feminine in many of us, her lesson about learning to say "no" and protect her boundaries will resonate.
The lesson of Psyche is often described as "sorting," and it is in that context that I've been revisiting this myth that I first read at least 30 years ago. Both literally and metaphorically, I am in a transition period wherein I have the opportunity to work away from the toxic environment of my normal job for four and a half months. What a perfect opportunity to be able to play around with options in my life without making any permanent commitments.
A former colleague and I lunched on Friday about how transforming it had been to be out of that work environment, freed of the pain-generating physical tension both of us had experienced. With literally a full day of extra time each week, we actually have "a life" again. I have found my humor and creativity return as I work in a respectful and supportive situation.
I confess that the Adrenalin withdrawal has been a struggle, but like any addict who has gone through withdrawal, I have come through the other side happier, healthier, and with more than a little trepidation about slipping back into the addiction when/if I go back to my real job. That brings me to my first sorting. Symbolically, using Psyche's lamp and knife, I am examining my relationship to my job, and maybe to work in general.
Because of a later in life business failure, I have felt driven to rebuild financial assets to support me through retirement. Confronted by age discrimination all around me, I've forced myself to do more and better in whatever I do to counter the occasional ageist jibe. I've also taken jobs that didn't use my strengths, abilities, or creativity to have a regular paycheck. While I do seriously need a regular paycheck for several years, I am no longer willing to work to my weaknesses. That is the lamp shining on my relationship to work. I haven't yet mustered the courage to use the knife to sever ties, but it is much more difficult to keep doing what I've been doing with the light of exploration shining on it.
There is other sorting I choose to do. The house of a friend was flooded about a month ago. He texted me about all the things he was having to throw away. I was more than a little jealous. For some time, I've been bumping into an accumulation of things that are no longer useful or desirable, and, when I do, I wonder, why don't I get rid of that? There is also a growing accumulation of things that I've received for gifts that I don't and won't use, but I have felt that I need to hang onto for fear of offending the giver. For several years, I've asked friends to not give me material gifts but instead plan to do something together, but largely my pleas have fallen on deaf ears.
I am also recognizing the need to sort activities more judiciously, so step away from habitual activities or things that I "should" do and to plan to devote time to things that are important to me. During the six weeks I've been in my temporary job, I have started to exercise regularly again, and tomorrow I will meet a colleague after work to practice a dance routine for a talent show which will raise money for charity. Still on the list of things to choose, strengthening exercise in addiction to aerobic. Live theater is working its way back into my schedule.
Using the knife to cut away other activities that I have missed and enjoyed to make time for writing has been more difficult. While I say it is a priority, choosing to write regularly is something that regular readers of this blog will attest is not something I've made time for as I did even two years ago. Cooking is a delight, and I know that I spend a disproportionate amount of time doing so. Is it wrong to spend too much time in something which brings me pleasure? Is that even the correct question? Perhaps I need to weigh writing against cooking before I decide where to use the knife of sorting. I enjoy volunteering and I believe service is how we make a life, but knowing where to say "no" among things I enjoy is challenging.
I have my lamp out and my knife in hand to do the "woman's work" to which the myth of Psyche points. I am eager to take the chrysalis of awareness and transform it into the butterfly of conscious living. Doing so, though, is, well, work...the work of my soul.
*For an extended discussion of the Myth of Psyche and Eros, see: http://www.peace.ca/mythofpsyche.htm
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)