Integrating the shadow

As other posts this week have already discussed, true human development comes from relaxing with, accepting and integrating aspects of our personality that make us fearful and insecure. As Jung said, our journey in life is not towards some kind of perfection, but towards wholeness.

If it comes to a neurosis, we invariably have to deal with a considerably intensified shadow.

And if such a person wants to be cured it is necessary to find a way

in which his conscious personality and his shadow can live together.

Jung

Moving into disorder

In human beings there is a constant tension between order and disorder, connectedness and loneliness, evolution and revolution, security and insecurity. Our universe is constantly evolving: the old order gives way to a new order and this in its turn crumbles when the next order appears. It is no different in our lives in the movement from birth to death. Change of one sort or another is the essence of life… when we try to prevent the forward movement of life, we may succeed for a while… but inevitably there is an explosion.

To be human is to create sufficient order so that we can move on into insecurity and seeming disorder.

In this way we discover the new.

Jean Vanier, Becoming Human

Accepting our emptiness

Following on from yesterday’s post, and applying it to our notions of psychological growth and maturity. Just as in nature, we need to be able to tolerate – and stop fighting with – the complexity,  disruptions, reversals and emptiness which are part of the normal human condition, and stop seeing them as unusual or as enemies to growth. In this way we move away from trying to get rid of them,  to accepting and authenticating them.

In our zeal to eliminate the ghosts of our childhood, to nourish the empty places of emotional insufficiency and to achieve the pinnacle of psychological development…we were treating feelings of emptiness as something that needed to be fixed and cured, and therefore losing the ground upon which we rest. Our aversion to emptiness is such that we have become experts at explaining it away, distancing ourselves from it, or assigning blame for its existence on the past or on the faults of others. We contaminate it with our personal histories and expect that it will disappear when we have resolved our personal problems. Thus. Western psychologists are trained to understand a report of emptiness as indicative of a deficiency in someone’s emotional upbringing, a defect in character, a defense against overwhelming feelings of aggression, or as a stand-in for feelings of inadequacy. Since most of us share one or more of these traits, it becomes easy to pathologize a feeling that in Buddhism serves as a starting point for self-exploration.

Mark Epstein, Going to Pieces without Falling Apart

On learning from nature

There is often an unspoken assumption that things should go smoothly in life, or that the Universe has a direct plan for us, and that it communicates it easily. Consequently,  we get upset that things are not always that straightforward. When things go wrong we can often regard it as a violation of some supposed natural entitlement to order and predictability. However, if we look at the natural world we do not find complete support for this underlying assumption. The recent turbulence in the weather, and the natural disasters of this past year,  demonstrate that things in nature are frequently unpredictable and disruptive.  So we should not expect anything different in our lives. Bad things can happen and our lives can change, in ways that we cannot predict. Things happen in indirect ways, and reasons are not always immediately evident. Patience is needed if we wish to understand or work out what is our path.

Clouds are not spheres,  Mountains are not cones, 

Coastlines are not circles and bark is not smooth,

nor does lightning travel in a straight line. 

Nature exhibits not simply a higher degree but an altogether different level of complexity.

Benoit Mandelbrot, French-American  mathematician.


The World comes to us

Jacques Lusseyran was a French writer and member of the Resistance, who continued to organize groups against the Nazi authorities even after he was sent to Buchenwald concentration camp. His work was all the more courageous because he had become totally blind at the age of 8, following an accident at school. He wrote about his early life in the book And There was Light: Autobiography of Jacques Lusseyran, Blind Hero of the French Resistance. This extract compliments the quote from Mark Twain this morning. Our discovery of the world begins with our active steps, which sometimes need courage and involve risk. However, we also need to know when to receive, and allow things to happen. The world is an  accomplice in this work of growth and continually presents moments when we can grow. Ironically, we frequently resist what happens to us each day, thinking that life is to be found elsewhere.

If I put my hand on the table without pressing it, I knew the table was there but knew nothing about it. To find out, my fingers had to bear down, and the amazing thing is that the pressure was answered by the table at once. Being blind I thought I should have to go out to meet things, but I found that they came to meet me instead. I have never had to go more than halfway, and the universe became the accomplice of all my wishes.

No need to go far today

I often suggest that my students ask themselves the simple question: Do I know how to live? Do I know how to eat?  How much to sleep? How to take care of my body? How to relate to other people?….Life is the real teacher and the curriculum is all set up. The question is: Are there any students?

Larry Rosenberg, Breath by Breath