Hugh Barton, LMFT

Mindfulness Jungian Psychotherapy

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The Inner Journey: On considering Homer’s The Odyssey as a roadmap for the human soul- Chapter 1

September 30, 2016 by unkahoo@me.com

Structure of The Odyssey
In Relation to the Psyche- Part 1

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Bear well out in your good ship.
Someone immortal who cares for you
Will make a fair wind blow.
1

What if we interpret The Odyssey as if it is a personal dream, in which every person, every god, every ogre, every animal, and every aspect of nature, including the silence and the space, is you or I?

In creating this kind of context we will be able to transform The Odyssey from a limited cognitive description of experiences “out there” into a tool to access deeper levels of our own knowing and loving. If we let the stories find us (as mythologist Michael Meade is fond of suggesting when working with myths) then The Odyssey becomes psychoactive and psycho diagnostic. We can allow it to inform our thoughts and feelings; but more important, to stir our imagination. And if we are prepared, we can come into contact with something grander- a connection to and recognition of our own timeless essence.

As we interpret The Odyssey as our dream we can set aside moral judgments and ethical standards. This liberates us from our ego’s narrow cultural attitudes and inherited beliefs. It is then possible to move towards wholeness by bravely encountering all possible pairs of opposites and assimilating these encounters into an expanded sense of being. In order to do this we might consider that our conscious mind acts like the aperture in a camera lens. It allows a certain band of light to pass through. We normally call this “me” or “I.” Things that fall outside of this light we call “not me,” and “not I.” If we are willing to venture past the security of this dualistic thinking, and if we have the courage to face our own darkness, then the aperture in the lens opens and allows more light through. It’s a paradox- we go into the darkness to find the light, and we become more full of this light, or “enlightened.” We also start to recognize that what we are seeking we already are and always have been. Joseph Campbell captured this beautifully when he wrote, “In his life-form the individual is necessarily only a fraction and distortion of the total image of man…by enlarging his vision, each discovers himself enhanced, enriched, supported, and magnified…each carries within himself the all; therefore it may be sought and discovered within.” 2

As we interpret The Odyssey as a personal dream time stops. Without time the distances in The Odyssey, the space, is compressed. To flatten out time and space means that everything happens in the here-and-now. All seeking ends, and Odysseus literally is all possible conditions all at once; Odysseus is suffering terrible loneliness journeying across the ocean and he is happily safe at home in Ithaca; He is experiencing the horror of watching his shipmates being devoured by the Cyclops and he is enjoying eating them; He is experiencing the transpersonal Authentic Self in the encounter with The Sirens and he is simply a man having a human experience.

As we interpret The Odyssey as a dream then conflict and paradox are part of the natural condition. No real resolution is required. Except for the short section on the Lotus-Eaters the entire poem is composed of a series of conflicts.

To be conflicted internally means we are incongruent, we lack integration, we have not individuated fully. But as we follow our theme of viewing The Odyssey as our personal dream, then the conflict is happening internally. “We are not unified,” writes Roberto Assagioli, “we often feel that we are, because we do not have many bodies and many limbs, because one hand doesn’t usually hit the other. But, metaphorically, that is exactly what does happen within us. Several sub personalities are continually scuffling: impulses, desires, principles, aspirations are engaged in an unceasing struggle.” 3

I think the presence of conflict in The Odyssey is a suggestion that one must encounter both the terrible and the beautiful and to assimilate these into one’s being. They are present in the legacy of our human consciousness, and may reside in the collective unconscious of mankind. “The most intense conflicts, if overcome,” writes C.G. Jung, “leave behind a sense of security and calm that is not easily disturbed. It is just these intense conflicts and their conflagration, which are needed to produce valuable and lasting results.” 4

As we interpret The Odyssey as our dream we allow the imaginal level of our psyche to bring to consciousness those things we need to know at this time. There is wisdom being communicated through The Odyssey that is separate from the intellectual top layer of our consciousness. And if I can start to understand, feel, sense, and work with what’s being communicated beneath the surface, and find the language with which to do this, I may evolve in consciousness. It is imperative for me as a therapist to understand some of the deeper meanings of my own psyche. And as I understand the language of the psyche I am more able to be in service to others while satisfying the poetic basis of my own soul’s journey. In this way I can help others to navigate their own odyssey.

One characteristic of every character in The Odyssey is that they ask explicitly for what they want. They have a clear intention. They are completely truthful and open and honest about their desires. They are willing to face into whatever answers may come, but they have a clear direction and a clear path, and by having this level of self-assurance they usually get what they want.

Let’s begin our consideration of The Odyssey as a personal dream by briefly examining the elements present in the poem.

The Gods

Men and women in The Odyssey attribute their fate to external gods. “How the immortal gods can change and drag us down once they begin to spin dark days for us.”1 And from Jung, “When an inner situation is not made conscious, it appears outside as fate.” 4

An interesting addition to appealing to the gods of fate is that men and women in The Odyssey feel their sense of place and their smallness in the great scheme of things. They possess humility. I have no doubt that Homer and Plato recognized that their own conscious minds, the thinking function, is only one aspect of their experience. They seem to have a clear understanding of the psychological landscape. Odysseus as a man represents our ego consciousness; the pantheon of gods represent the unmanifest eternal, the timeless aspect of our being. In The Odyssey, as in all of ancient Greece, men (ego) and gods (soul) enjoy an integrated relationship. In The Eternal Drama Edward Edinger, the great psychoanalyst and author, notes this link through decades of working with clients, “We are left with the conclusion that there exists an eternal psyche…that is of greater duration than the ego… which is beyond time and space and beyond the control of the conscious personality.” 5

As we view The Odyssey as a dream then psychologically the external gods are a projection of inner states. On the localized human conscious level different gods represent different aspects of our personality. Edinger describes in beautiful detail what these aspects may be. And he points out, “that as long as the archetypal powers themselves are divided, the ego is cast in a tragic role, being split by the conflict that exists in the divine realm.” The resolution to this conflict suggested in The Odyssey is that Odysseus is anchored in true knowledge of the Self, and this is what enables him to triumph over life-threatening encounters that would crumble lesser men.

For our purposes I’ll summarize Edinger’s assertions relevant to the gods represented in The Odyssey;

Athena- “The Grey-Eyed Goddess” is the main divinity that participates in The Odyssey. Strategist, bringer of practical knowledge, protector of heroes, Zeus’ favorite child, bridge builder linking a man’s thoughts with his feelings. She is the aspect of consciousness that generates mastery in the world. Since she is specifically not an erotic goddess (such as Aphrodite) her help is forceful and focused.

Zeus- “Father of Gods and Men;” creative energy; libido, life-force striving to realize new consciousness, the embodied union of divine and human (he was insatiable in his drive to mate with human women and create new life), self-sufficiency and trusting oneself. In his ongoing disputes with his wife Hera this pair of opposites is less interested in stroking the human ego as it is with pointing to something beyond the ego’s narrow understanding.

Hermes- “The Wayfinder;” wanderer, carrier of secret wisdom, bringer of unexpected coincidences, envoy between the human and the divine. In psychology, the inner guide between the personal human psyche and the collective unconscious. I think of him as the imaginal aspect of our being, and I identify one aspect of my own present style of counseling as Hermetic- “compulsively obliged to convey meaning or point out hidden references.”

Poseidon- “The Earth Shaker” can shake up the status quo and lead one to question the accuracy of one’s ego-based positions. He resides in the sea, the archetypical place of the unconscious.

From the larger perspective, the collective of gods represent the part inside us that is unchanging and eternal. This aspect of our being cannot be dominated by thoughts, cannot be controlled by effort in any way. In The Odyssey praying to a god does effect change, but the decision to respond is always left with the individual god. To me this signifies the surrendering of the individual ego in favor of the greater forces of intuition and imagination.

Here is where East and West unite. The non-duality traditions of India and Tibet emphasize the aspect of our being that cannot be dominated by our thoughts nor controlled by conscious effort. They teach that our natural state is the ever fresh, self-shining, presence-awareness contained in the simple phrase, “I AM THAT.” In the Tibetan traditions they have a term for this Intrinsic (already present within) Awareness (genuine being/Authentic Self). They call it Rigpa. In The Odyssey, Homer mentions something similar when he refers to the gods as “the undying, the ever-new.”

According to non-duality traditions our ego’s “normal” way of looking creates concepts about what it is observing. So there is an immediate separation. There’s the concept of “me” and the concept of “other-than-me.” But concepts are never the reality. The ego sorts and separates light from dark, right from wrong, day from night, man from god. Its function is to be the tool that helps us to accomplish that which our heart needs. But the ego wants to appear to be in control. As such, the thoughts and concepts generated create obscurations that block our true nature. We take ourselves to be something that we create in our minds, to the point that what we are is a concept of who we think we are, and we ignore our true nature. This we call ignorance.

The ego cannot grasp the totality, the space. This space, this seeming emptiness, is endowed with something living within it, and is at the heart of all spiritual paths. Many refer to it as Empty Cognizance. This recognition obliterates duality. Awareness isn’t an idea. It cannot be understood by the thinking mind. It is experienced directly as simply this: present fresh wakefulness, the sense of knowing that you are. You are here and you know you exist. This knowing, this awareness, this awake quality, this presence, is always here. It never wavers. It is our true nature. There is nowhere to go to find it. All such attempts move us further away. The goal is already attained. Odysseus is already home. But his ego just doesn’t know it yet. (Continues in the next post)

 

References

1. Homer (1992). The Odyssey (R. Fitzgerald, Trans.). New York, NY: Everyman’s Library/Alfred A. Knopf.

2. Campbell, J. (2008). The Hero With A Thousand Faces. Novato, CA: New World Library

3. Ferrucci, P. (2004). What We May Be. New York, NY: Tarcher/Penguin Group (USA)

4. Jung, C.G. (1970). The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche. Collected Works of C.G. Jung. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.

5. Edinger, E.F. (1994) The Eternal Drama- The Inner Meaning Of Greek Mythology (D. A. Wesley, Ed). New York, NY: Shambahla.

Filed Under: Category #1 Tagged With: Edward Edinger, Homer, Individuation, Joseph Campbell, Jungian, Michael Meade, nonduality, Poetry, Psychotherapy, spiritual psychology, The Odyssey

The Inner Journey: On considering Homer’s The Odyssey as a roadmap for the human soul- Introduction

September 23, 2016 by unkahoo@me.com

Living Symbols and the Power of Images

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Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story
Of that man skilled in all ways of contending,
The wanderer, harried for years on end…
And learned the minds of many distant men,
And weathered many bitter nights and days
In his deep heart at sea, while he fought only
To save his life, to bring his shipmates home…
Lift the great song again.
1

These words are Homer’s from the opening strains of The Odyssey. Part invocation and part challenge, they beckon us to begin our own journey in exploring our psychological challenges by watching someone else go through theirs from the safe distance of story.

The themes, presented through memorable adventures, powerful images, and familiar symbols, play out in every human heart, and therefore connect us to each other and to the universe as a whole. One could say that The Odyssey is an ancient owner’s manual for the Western soul on its quest for wholeness, integration, and meaning, and that Odysseus, the main character, is a projection of what a hero must endure to overcome mankind’s most common fundamental dilemmas.

So this boat, this captain, these shipmates, and these adventures are aspects of the Self on its mythic journey back “home.”

I first encountered the stirring power that images and symbols can invoke when I was in college and I read another ancient Greek work- Plato’s Timaeus2. Plato’s words conjured pictures in my mind that engaged my intellect. Yet something else was being communicated too, a deeper truth about the nature of the Self. In some ineffable way I was transformed from a lonely and solitary thinking being into a loving manifestation of something grand but yet undiscovered.

When Plato links each of our soul’s destiny to a specific star in the heavens, he writes…

“…(The Creator) divided the whole mixture into souls equal in number to the stars, and assigned each soul to a star; and having there placed them as in a chariot, he showed them the nature of the universe, and declared to them the laws of destiny…they must have love, in which pleasure and pain mingle; also fear and anger, and the feelings which are akin or opposite to them; if they conquered these they would live righteously, and if they were conquered by them, unrighteously. He who lived well during his appointed time was to return and dwell in his native star, and there he would have a blessed and congenial existence.”

I love the magnitude of this image. I love Plato’s invitation to participate. Involved in this image is me down here, the very distant stars out there, and between us…space. In this space I expand. I am humbled. This sense of space, empty yet cognizant, filled me with such sweetness and compassion. When I read Plato’s words I awake to the possibility that there is meaning and purpose, an order in things, a destiny woven into my little life.

I awoke to something else as well. I became aware that many other people had searched for meaning and purpose in their lives. Writers and philosophers like Plato and Homer plumbed the ancient mythic imagination present in their culture and shared what they found. In the blink of an eye my own contemporary struggle became joyously impersonal. I shifted from feeling like an isolated person adrift in my little boat (my ego) to belonging to an armada of like-minded souls embarking on the great journey; that my personal evolution was important to the success of the entire operation. And in nurturing myself on Plato’s mythic poetry I teamed up with a league of travelers searching for their own ways home, enduring terrible hardships and great disappointments, “weathering many bitter nights and days.” A “return to our native star” is possible in the same way that all streams eventually return to the sea.

But the peace I felt at the time was not to last. The details of everyday life seemed to dampen and then smother my broader sense of harmony, destiny, and purpose. Small-mindedness, self-centeredness, and doubt, entered my mind. And somehow, without me noticing, the forgetfulness of the Lotus-Eaters3 had entered my life.

After a long period of inner darkness I once again set sail and plotted a new course, this time to the East. I studied Tibetan Buddhism and Hindu Advaita, two great non-duality traditions. I discovered that the sense of space I touched in Timeaus was at the core of these teachings. They use terms such as Empty Cognizance, Awareness, and the Supreme. I noticed I had a familiarity and a resonance with the teachings. But obscurations surfaced and made these moments fleeting. I began to feel like a New York tourist in Nepal: it is an interesting and deeply moving vacation, but in the background is the constant sharp smell of the unfamiliar and a longing for home.

Then, over a casual lunch with my friend, the great depth astrologer Bob Campbell, Bob brought up the myth of Proteus, one story among many presented in The Odyssey. Our discussion hinged on the idea that present in the words and images of Homer is a profound understanding of what one must endure to awaken fully to the totality of who and what we are.

I rushed out and bought the book. And something in me stirred after a 27-year hibernation. From reading the first line of this epic poem I felt as if I had come home. The living truths in this work, written over 2700 years ago, was singing in me now, at this time, with fresh vigor.

Questions arose. How is one to “live well during his appointed time?” We, like Plato before us, can read Homer’s words and find the answers. Because on the personal level The Odyssey is a roadmap to help us awaken to the loving wholeness already present inside ourselves.

How might The Odyssey do this? How could we make it personal here and now? How could we move it from the head to the heart and make it our personal drama. What might be the most effective way to find immediate resonance? It is my interest in these questions that led me to write and illustrate these posts. (Continues in the next post)

References

1. Homer (1992). The Odyssey (R. Fitzgerald, Trans.). New York, NY: Everyman’s Library/Alfred A. Knopf.

2. Plato. (2009). Plato’s Timaeus (B. Jowett, Trans.). Rockville, MD: Serenity.

3. In book IX Odysseus describes the way three of his crewmen become drugged with lethargy and forgetfulness after eating lotus flowers. “Those who ate this honeyed plant, the Lotus…never cared to return…forgetful of their homeland.” I take this to mean a false peace, instant gratification, and a passive avoidance of accepting the responsibility of facing the difficulties required to move towards wholeness.

Filed Under: Category #1 Tagged With: Homer, Individuation, Jungian, nonduality, Plato, Poetry, Psychotherapy, Soul, spiritual psychology, The Odyssey

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