Alexandersmap

    Tag: Carl Jung

    • Developing Insight, Courage and Endurance

      “Jung observed that the work of being an evolved human being consists of three parts. Psychology can bring us insight, but then, he insisted, come the moral qualities of the individual: courage and endurance. So, having potentially come to consciousness, to have embraced insight as to what a dilemma is really about, one then has to find the courage to live it in the real world, with all its punitive powers, and to do so over time in the face of opposition both external and internal.” — James Hollis, Living an Examined Life

      We’re all evolving at our own pace, becoming what we will, sorting out our individual lifetime feedback loop as it becomes apparent to us. We might have a clear idea of what we are becoming, and then again we might not. There’s no doubt that a strong compass heading offers focus and purpose to an otherwise meandering life, but that doesn’t mean a bit of meandering isn’t essential as we find our way down the path.

      Hunter S Thompson, surely more evolved at 22 than I was at that age, wrote an extraordinary letter to a friend who had asked for advice, replying that one reason he might be struggling to know what to do with his life was that “he’d lived a relatively narrow life, a vertical rather than a horizontal existence.” There’s merit in expanding horizontally, for it develops in us this insight that only comes from meandering a bit off our upward climb. Insight may lead to dissatisfaction with our current path, which in turn might stir enough courage within to make the changes necessary to climb a different path.

      Some of Thompson’s sage advice in that letter to his friend was to “decide how you want to live and then see what you can do to make a living WITHIN that way of life.” But the universe doesn’t just bow to our wishes, we must fight for the life we want to live. Inferred in that “see what you can do to make a living” nugget is finding the courage to push for what you want your life to be, not just externally, but especially, internally. Finding the gumption within ourselves to tell that internal voice inside of us to piss off and go for what we want is the real trick to a fulfilling life.

      I finally got around to reading Band of Brothers recently after re-watching the series for a third time. The paratroopers who made up Easy Company in the 101st Airborne Division who jumped behind enemy lines on D-Day didn’t just strap on a parachute and jump out of an airplane for the first time that day. How could anyone find that level of courage to do such a thing? They took small steps, first jumping off a small platform harnessed to a cable, then a higher platform, and progressing to a jump from a plane above their base. It took five of these jumps to earn their silver wings, which indicated to the world that they were paratroopers. Even then, it wasn’t until they parachuted into France under fire that they became combat veterans and earned that nickname “Screaming Eagles”.

      How are we to be expected to just jump into the thick of it in our own chosen life path? We must pay our dues, apprentice and stumble through the learning phase before we can gain any measure of expertise, let alone develop the courage to leap into the unknown and the street smarts to stand up again unscathed. Our lives are a work in progress, built layer upon layer, and the work never stops. And that’s where endurance comes in. We must strategically sprint now and then throughout our lives, but we can’t forget in our rush to get past the pack that most of life is steady state. If we don’t find a pace that we can sustain that pack will reign us back in and leave us far behind.

      It’s easy to write that we need to develop ourselves, but much harder to get out there and tackle it day-after-day. For me, reading, writing this blog (and other things better left unpublished) and generally sorting through life as it comes at me offers the necessary “chart time” to figure out both my current and future place. I’m by no means an expert at this business of living, but I’ve found that this routine levels off the highs and lows of daily living by offering and reinforcing perspective. This is my steady state between the mad dashes of life.

      So there are the three legs of the our evolutionary stool, according to Carl Jung: Insight, to help us understand what we want out of life. Courage, to pursue what we want most. And endurance, to sustain the long, arduous slog through a universe that always has other plans for us. Our daily rituals develop all three, and help to keep the dream alive with the proper fuel and maintenance. Those rituals then help us set our course for wherever we dare to take ourselves next.

    • The Rhizome Remains

      “We do not know how life is going to turn out. Therefore the story has no beginning, and the end can only be vaguely hinted at. The life of man is a dubious experiment. It is a tremendous phenomenon only in numerical terms. Individually, it is so fleeting, so insufficient, that it is literally a miracle that anything can exist and develop at all. I was impressed by that fact long ago, as a young medical student, and it seemed to me miraculous that I should not have been prematurely annihilated. Life has always seemed to me like a plant that lives on its rhizome. Its true life is invisible, hidden in the rhizome. The part that appears above ground lasts only a single summer. Then it withers away — an ephemeral apparition.
      When we think of the unending growth and decay of life and civilizations, we cannot escape the impression of absolute nullity. Yet I have never lost a sense of something that lives and endures beneath the eternal flux. What we see is blossom, which passes. The rhizome remains. In the end the only events in my life worth telling are those when the imperishable world erupted into this transitory one. That is why I speak chiefly of inner experiences, amongst which I include my dreams and visions. These form the prima materia of my scientific work.”
      — Carl Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections

      Our lifespan is but the bloom that eventually withers away, yet the rhizome remains in our spirit and the work we leave behind for others. Think of the traits we see carry from generation to generation. Think of the art and music that resonates long after the composer has withered away. We have people that stay with us for the rest of our days; we can see the twinkle in their eye, we can hear their laughter. Life is Jung’s ephemeral apparition, but as we feel of those who have transcended this world, the physical manifestation of our being isn’t all there is of us.

      Our season is very short, but rooted below the surface we’re anchored to eternity. And this, when you think about it, offers a bit of hope in this ridiculous game of living. For we come and go in our season, but our rhizome remains. There’s a sense of permanence in that, as we make the most of our impermanent time in bloom. We shine in our time and offer what we might to those who carry on.

      The present season, anchored to eternity

    • How Shall I Live?

      “When a person tries to apply his intellect to the question “Why do I exist in this world?” he becomes dizzy. The human intellect cannot find the answers to such questions. What does this mean? This means that our intellect is not given to us to find a solution for this question. Our intellect can only answer the question: “How shall I live?” And the answer is simple: “We should live so as to bring good to all people.” – Leo Tolstoy

      There was a moment in college many years ago when I thought I’d like to major in Philosophy, but couldn’t possible justify it to my peers and parents.  But no matter: I’ve majored in Philosophy off and on ever since.  And it seems from my reading lately that I’m back on.  Perhaps there is something in the air.  Or perhaps there’s something in the changing light as the earth pivots and the days persistently grow shorter.  But I find myself drawn back into the great minds of history lately.  Seneca, Marcus Aurelius, Tolstoy, Campbell, Jung, Nietzsche, Frankl, Thoreau…  and on.

      The root of philosophy are these two questions posed by Tolstoy: Why are we here? and so, How shall I live?   As Leo points out, the first question is one most people don’t dwell on.  Existential questions about why we’re here make you pause a beat too long.  It’s easier to just get right to the second question.

      “I don’t believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive.” – Joseph Campbell

      Most people just go about living whatever identity they choose for themselves.  For the most part you can march along most of your life just living your chosen identity, until something like 2020 comes along to disrupt that illusion.  The easy path becomes harder, doors that were always open are closed, and the people we’ve come to rely on to reinforce our identity have their own problems.  But there’s nothing unique in history about the challenges we’re dealing with in 2020 – the only thing unique about it is that its happening to us this time.  And in a year as disruptive to identities as this one, what better question to ask of ourselves than how shall I live?

      “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.” – Carl Jung

      Kindling light is lovely, but sometimes your battery is running low and you’re a long way from the dawn.  So where do we go from here?  I hear people despair at lost semesters, lost seasons in sports, lost jobs, lost mobility to cross borders, lost time with loved ones…  and what I hear most is despair of lost identity.  We all had plans for these days, and those plans were turned upside down.  But here in the darkness of 2020 philosophy gently taps you on the shoulder and offers direction from those who came before us, and in many ways suffered in ways that we can’t imagine in our current life of relative comfort:

      “It did not really matter what we expected from life, but rather what life expected from us. We needed to stop asking about the meaning of life, and instead to think of ourselves as those who were being questioned by life – daily and hourly. Our answer must consist, not in talk and meditation, but in right action and in right conduct. Life ultimately means taking the responsibility to find the right answer to its problems and to fulfill the tasks which it constantly sets for each individual.”  – Viktor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

      So how shall I live?  Responsibly; in this moment and the next one too, bringing good to all people and bringing light to the darkest corners.  Offering a shoulder to cry on and an ear for those who need it.  To keep climbing the hill and giving a hand to those who need it.  To be patient with those who lose their way but firm with those who would pull you towards the darkness.  To be a steady presence in an unsteady world.  And when the bucket empties, draw from the wisdom of those who came before for strength and sustenance to keep going.

    • To Kindle a Light

      “Make of yourself a light,” said the Buddha, before he died.” – Mary Oliver, The Buddha’s Last Instruction

      Last night I lay quietly in the backyard well past my bedtime watching bits of billion-year-old space dust streak across the sky in brilliant dying gasps of white light. The dust is debris from the comet Swift-Tuttle, which takes 133 years to orbit the sun. The Earth, orbiting the sun every year, meets this debris field every August.  I won’t be alive when the comet Swift-Tuttle visits again, but every year I look for her cosmic wake in the form of the Perseid Meteor Shower.

      “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.” – Carl Jung

      If ever there was a year during my lifetime to bring more light into the world, its 2020.  I’m not sure yet how much light I have to offer, but I know the answer is…  more.  And so I’m going to double down on the writing for the next hundred days to get through the first draft.  And then do the work to make it sparkle, for surely it won’t sparkle in 100 days.  Ah, but writing kindles a light in me, and I must stoke that kindling until I get a good flame going.

      “A good book is [one] you can feel [is] alive.  You can feel it vibrating, the character comes alive, you can sense the brain matter of the writer is like flickering on the page.  They’re alive.  And a dead book the author doesn’t have any energy, the person they’re writing about doesn’t come to life, ideas have no sparkle to them.  So you have to bring energy and aliveness to the process.  It shows in your writing.” – Rolf Potts, from his Deviate podcast

      One thing I’ve often lectured myself about is a tendency to announce what I’m going to do instead of just doing it and talking about it later.  Yet here I am talking about the next hundred days like I’ve actually done anything meaningful.  A way of forcing my writing hand to fish or cut bait. I’m tired of cutting bait.  And holding my own feet to the fire seems to work for me.  I rowed a million meters in four months because I said to my world that I would.  And now I’m saying this will be done.  Sometimes a measure of audacity puts you on the spot just enough to get you over the hump.

      I’ve firmly established the habit of writing early in the morning.  Demonstrated by the consistency of published posts to the blog.  But writing a book requires a different level of focus.  I’m just not producing enough focused material towards the book…  yet.  November 19th is 100 days from yesterday, when I began this journey of 100,000 pages.  What’s that?!  Day one is already gone.   A lot can happen in the next 99 days, but only with sweat equity and commitment.  I believe it to be one of those five big things, so why not treat it as such?

      The comet Swift-Tuttle last visited in 1992, but was only visible with binoculars at the time (like NEOWISE last month).  I was cosmically indifferent to it then, but I’ve never been indifferent to the Perseids.  Comets seem more timeless and steady in their travels across the universe.  Meteors are only here for a moment of flash and streaking brilliance and then they’re gone forever.  We’re a lot more like meteors than comets, aren’t we? Why not kindle a light in the darkness of mere being in this brief time?