Invisible Counselors

"In a dark time the eye begins to see."  

This is the opening line of the poem by Theodore Roethke.  But how does it happen in life?

In a dark time, when battling paralyzing fear (the fear of poverty, of criticism, of loss of love), I wrote down those words of the poet.  I had no idea how I would find my way out of the underground passage I found myself in, especially as there were no mentors or guides.

The idea that I could turn misfortune (which I began to write about in the form of a book that I would call The Red Coat) into a blessing was the thought that changed my life.

In his inspirational classic, Think and Grow Rich, Napoleon Hill says that people end up where they are because of their dominating thoughts and desires.  Everything created in the world begins in the form of a thought inside your head.

"All thought has a tendency to clothe itself in its physical equivalent."

If you are a worrier, you get things to worry about.  If you fear criticism, you find yourself inundated by it. 

To address his own shortcomings, Hill conducted a thought experiment.  He called an imaginary council of historical figures whom he admired and who he thought would have a positive influence on him, such that he might in time and through interaction with them rebuild his own character.  Hill appointed himself the head of that assembly and addressed the figures one by one, requesting their assistance in his endeavors.  Soon, these "Invisible Counselors" began to communicate to him through the "receiving set" of his subconscious mind, granting him throughout his day the extraordinary ideas, plans and hunches that flashed before his mind. 

Here is my cabinet (with seating chart) and call to order.  Who's in yours?

INVISIBLE COUNSELORS

NAPOLEON HILL (sitting at my right hand which is the strong hand of my will), I ask that you pass on to me the habit of directing my thoughts toward success, being ever mindful that thoughts are things, and powerful things when mixed with definiteness of purpose, persistence and a burning desire for their translation into wealth.  

SHIKO MUNAKATA (self-taught Artist born to a blacksmith), I ask that you teach me to see what is already there and to work with marvelous speed in getting it down on paper.

From you, DIONYSUS (God of Theater and Wine), I wish to acquire the freedom of Nobody and the gift of the Poets through whom speak the daemons of your house.

From you, INGMAR BERGMAN (Master of the Magic Lantern), I wish to learn how to express through word and image those chasms, heavens, eternities that we bear within us.

You, ERESHKIGAL (Queen of the Great Below whose dark forces when unobserved are felt as depression), I wish to keep in my circle so that you do not destroy me.

From you, POLAR BEAR (sitting opposite me), I ask that you let me put on your coat and be who I am.

From you, INANNA (Queen of Heaven and Earth), I wish to acquire all of the virtues: the virtue of war, of incantation, of truth, of dagger and sword, of fear, of lovemaking, of the happy song, of the lamentation, of treachery, of straightforwardness, of kindness, of deceit, and so on, so that I am a whole and sovereign being.

From you, ARISTOPHANES (Comic Poet of the Ancient World), I wish to acquire the audacity and skill to erase the world that is and create another.

From you, ARTEMIS (Mistress of the Wilderness), I wish to acquire the ability to talk to the animals and to hear the wisdom of the natural world.

From you, C.G. JUNG, I wish to acquire the ability and courage to overcome those strange resistances that hold me back, to let go of suffering and open myself to the possibility of all that I am, giving battle to the nursery demons at the gate and entering the causal zone of my psyche where I clarify and name the Eternal Ones who hold the keys to my life.

From you, JOAN OF ARC (sitting to my left, the little left hand of me), I desire to acquire the Movement of Faith, the resolute action that is needed to put in motion the extraordinary ideas that come to me in sparks of divinity. 

Trash to Treasure

A man holds a lantern before an open door and enters.  That is the subject of a painting by William Blake entitled “Jerusalem.”   I found it in a book called The Hermetic Museum: Alchemy & Mysticism.  It was one of the many books I read trying to teach myself how to write The Red Coat.

The alchemists were looking for a way to turn base metals – lead, tin, iron – into gold.  For me, the challenge was first put forth by Oscar the Grouch in a book I bought my boy at the grocery story: From Trash to Treasure!  The idea interested me.  I had a lot of trash, and more and more kept getting heaped on me all the time.  So after a while, I didn’t know what was mine or where I stood in all of it.

Now this wasn’t real trash, it was psychic trash, and yes some of it was circumstantial trash.  Trash that came along.  Trash inherited from my ancestors, from history, from my parents.  Even friends and employers contributed.  Collective trash.  But for some reason, I seemed to have more of it than others.  Maybe I was a trash magnet?  Or I created trash?  I felt like I had it written on my face.  It was getting me down.

What to do with all that trash?

At the lowest point, when the weight of trash was unbearable, I began to make something out of it.  In 1995, when my son was four years old, I started to write The Red Coat.  At first, it was merely entries in a journal, fragments, images, scenes into which I’d project myself in order to get to the bottom of my problem.

Where did I go?  What happened to me?    

A character appeared whom I would call Marla Piper.  Where did she come from?  I didn’t know but “she” allowed me to look at myself without the painful reminder that it was me.  Like an alchemist from a distant age, I would peer down into the murk of my soul and shine a light upon my “stuff” to try and deal with it.  I’d have to sift through a lot of junk to figure out what to keep and what to get rid of.

I found that some of the stuff had been projected onto me by other people as part of their own unwanted shadow (“you are worthless” was really how they felt about themselves).  Some of it belonged to the culture I lived in (“you are not beautiful”), and some of it was inherited from my folks (“you are doomed to fail”).  Those things I could try and jettison, whereas other things, things I myself had done or created (“you are judgmental” or “you are confused” or “you have abdicated power”) were facts about myself that I’d have to take responsibility for if I was ever going to succeed.

Bit by bit, I turned the pieces over in my mind's eye and still I could not find that mysterious, vital essence that instinctually I felt was my birthright but which had been taken from me or I had forgotten somewhere along the way and it was now lost, submerged like some priceless treasure thrown off a pirate ship and fallen to the bottom of the ocean.

Psychologist C.G. Jung saw the unconscious mind as an ocean and the ego (that part of the mind we usually think of as “me”) as a tiny boat bobbing in the midst.

Jung believed that the goal of psychic development is the integration of these two parts of the self, the unconscious and the conscious.  Shining a light on the shadow – those repressed shortcomings, emotions and instincts lurking inside us – is the way we come to ourselves.  The treasure is in the depths of things where insight prevails.  Paradoxically, when we are able to do this, to see and accept the awful, unspoken, hidden parts as well as the good, we lay claim to our divinity.

For Jung, and for the alchemists and the mystics, exploring the psyche (or soul) is a religious quest, and it is ignorance not sin that keeps us from God.  For the integrated personality, or “Self” as Jung called it, is the archetype of unity and totality, that immutable spark inside us that reflects the living God.

What is your treasure?  that immutable, rare, and desired part?  Where did it go? Is it hidden, sunken, buried, lost or stolen or is it like that lamp of old:

"No one lights a lamp and puts it in a place where it will be hidden, or under a bowl.  Instead, he puts it on its stand, so that those who come in may see the light.” - Luke 11:5