Tag: the unconscious

Inner Beso Dream

EleanorLeave a comment

Journal Date: February 2, 2021

At the end of the collection of short stories in Warming the Stone Child, Clarissa Pinkola Estés offers a couple tips for continuing the healing journey on your own.

The first one is this: “Pay attention to your dreams. Your dreams will tell you everything. In terms of injured instinct, dreams that are about animals that are injured or not acting properly are very good clues to what is hurt or what is injured in the deep unconscious.”

It’s funny, because just days before I heard this in this book, I had a very intense dream which fits what Estés is describing here perfectly.

From what I can remember, I had been struggling inside of this dream for a while before the parts that I became more directly conscious of occurred.

I remember that in this dream, I had been at a party for quite some time, feeling more and more frustrated as it went on.

Both my best friend and my ex-boyfriend were there. In this dream, we were still dating, but I could tell that he was losing interest, and not wanting to be with me.

Then my best friend showed up, and somehow it became known that she intended to sleep with him.

I tried to convince her not to do that, but apparently I didn’t do a very good job, because that’s exactly what happened next.

And in the dream, I just could not get over it.

I held on to that so tightly, with so much resentment and bitterness. I just couldn’t let it go. I told everyone I met. It was the only thing I wanted to talk about in my dream, really.

It just went on and on like that, endlessly, without reprieve.

It was like I had to convince anybody who would come near me how wrong it was. How it was something which could never be forgiven, which I had to hold onto forever.

This went on for a frustratingly long amount of time.

Until suddenly, I found that I was no longer at the party, but back on the streets of Whittier, making my way back towards my childhood home on Friends Ave.

And I had a little baby Beso in a wrinkled up, used and old plastic bag inside of my black backpack, just like the one I had in middle school.

Baby Beso was very sick.

I had fed him something toxic without knowing it was poisonous to him.

And so now I was trying to make my way back to this house, thinking that it was here that I would be able to take Beso out of the old bag in the backpack. 

I knew that he was suffering in there, it was dark and poorly ventilated, and I could only rarely look inside to check on him and see if he was even still alive.

And on top of this, I kept getting distracted, caught up again and again in telling everyone I encountered what a victim I was, and how I would never forgive them for what they had done to me.

This went on until I found myself on a street near Uptown Whittier, one which was on the other side of the alley where I had often walked through on my way to another friend’s house.

I took one last look inside of my backpack to check on baby Beso–and he was not doing well.

His eyes were red, deeply irritated all around the edges, and it was clear that he was suffering, struggling and very much in pain.

I was worried that he may not make it all the way to my mother’s house.

But I was convinced, for some reason, that there was nothing I could do until I reached this place, so I put him in my backpack again, and kept on walking.

And then I woke up.

I thought about that dream quite a bit that day. Clearly, there seemed to be a significant connection between what went on in my dream and in my world.

I remembered how my therapist has started calling the part of me that still needs mothering, the child within that requires loving attention and care, my “Inner Beso.”

I think it’s because I talk about my dog all the time, and how much I love being his “mom,” and how much I’ve learned from caring for him. I think he keeps saying that to encourage me to do the same for myself, to transfer my Beso-mothering skills into inner child, self-mothering skills.

What I got from analyzing my dream was this:

Maybe the bitterness and resentment I’ve been feeling towards my family aren’t serving a purpose anymore.

Maybe they are poisonous, maybe they are the toxic food that I have unknowingly been feeding my “inner Beso.”

And maybe I’m just going in the wrong direction entirely.

Why go revisit that old place in Whittier? 

Why go “home”?

There was nothing nourishing in that place to begin with. To keep returning there no longer makes any sense to me.

Maybe it’s just a distraction, a dangerous lie putting my inner child at further risk of being harmed.

Maybe the thing to do is attend to my “inner Beso” now, right where I’m at, as imperfect as that may be.

And please, take him out of that dirty old bag in your backpack immediately!

There is no reason to hide him away anymore.

All of this is to say, I need to turn and start heading in the other direction now.

This return to the childhood home, the return to the past, has served its purpose and outlived its usefulness. 

I’ve learned what I came to learn. Now is the time to move beyond it.

And I don’t need to wait to start caring for myself. I can start feeding my “inner Beso” healthy, nourishing food. 

I can give myself experiences that fill me up and nourish my soul.

I don’t have to wait anymore.

The Anima and the Animus in Jungian Psychology

EleanorLeave a comment

Carl Jung was a Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst who founded analytical psychology. Among his contributions to this field was the concept of the anima and animus, which refers to the feminine and masculine aspects of the human psyche, respectively. According to Jung, every person has both an anima and an animus, regardless of their gender. These two archetypes represent the inner world of a person and can affect their behavior and relationships.

Jung believed that the anima and animus have a powerful influence on the psyche, often operating on an unconscious level. The anima represents the feminine qualities within a man’s psyche, while the animus represents the masculine qualities within a woman’s psyche. Each person has their own unique anima or animus, and it can take on a variety of forms depending on the individual’s experiences and personal history.

Jung believed that the anima and animus function as the mediator between the conscious and unconscious mind, helping to bridge the gap between the two. By embracing these inner archetypes, individuals can become more whole and integrated, leading to a greater sense of balance and harmony in their lives.

In men, the anima often appears as a feminine ideal, representing the qualities of tenderness, intuition, and emotion. It can also manifest in the form of a muse, inspiring creativity and artistic expression. Men who are in touch with their anima tend to be more empathetic and compassionate, with a greater understanding of the emotional needs of others.

However, when a man is not in touch with his anima, he may become overly aggressive or detached from his emotions, leading to problems in his relationships with others. He may struggle to connect with his partner emotionally, leading to feelings of isolation and loneliness. Conversely, a man who is too in touch with his anima may become overly sensitive and lack the assertiveness needed to maintain healthy boundaries in his relationships.

In women, the animus often appears as a masculine ideal, representing the qualities of assertiveness, logic, and rationality. It can also manifest in the form of a protector, providing strength and support in times of need. Women who are in touch with their animus tend to be more independent and self-assured, with a greater ability to navigate the challenges of life.

However, when a woman is not in touch with her animus, she may become overly passive or dependent on others, leading to a lack of autonomy and self-confidence. She may struggle to assert herself in her relationships, leading to feelings of powerlessness and resentment. Conversely, a woman who is too in touch with her animus may become overly aggressive or domineering, leading to difficulties in her relationships with others.

In relationships, the anima and animus can play a significant role in shaping the dynamics between partners. For example, a man who is in touch with his anima may be more attuned to his partner’s emotional needs, leading to a greater sense of intimacy and connection. Conversely, a man who is disconnected from his anima may struggle to understand his partner’s emotional cues, leading to misunderstandings and conflicts.

Similarly, a woman who is in touch with her animus may be more assertive and confident in her relationships, leading to a greater sense of equality and respect between partners. However, a woman who is overly identified with her animus may become overly aggressive or domineering, leading to power struggles and conflicts with her partner.

In conclusion, Carl Jung’s theory of the anima and animus provides valuable insights into the feminine and masculine aspects of the human psyche and how they operate in relationships. Embracing and integrating these inner archetypes can lead to greater balance and harmony in one’s life and relationships.

However, an imbalance or over-identification with either the anima or animus can lead to difficulties and conflicts. Understanding and working with these archetypes can help individuals navigate their relationships more effectively and cultivate a greater sense of wholeness and self-awareness.

Finding Gold in the Shadow

EleanorLeave a comment

I’d spent a lifetime running

seeking

needing

using

fearing

hoping

destroying

doing anything to fill the narrow, trembling void between

self and shame.

One day I stopped running, and my shame

she turned, and came to me.

She took me over and she held me down

in soft savage embrace,

when I finally caught my breath and

dared to look at her straight in

tender eyes, I saw more beauty and more

goodness and more

grace than I’d ever found

in years of wild flight.

+

This is what it means in alchemy to “find the gold in the shadow.” To be able to look within at all of what is hidden, to see and to know the self in its fullness without fear, no matter what may come—that’s the moment when we first die, and when we are first born.

“We know that the mask of the unconscious is not rigid—it reflects the face we turn towards it. Hostility lends it a threatening aspect, friendliness softens its features.” —Carl Jung

+

Don’t be afraid to change direction. It might be that you end up finding a friend in what you once feared.

Dissolution

Eleanor1 Comment
Dissolution -- The Second Phase of Alchemy

The second phase of alchemy, dissolution, comes after the fiery heat of calcination which incinerated the ideas we once had about who we are and our place in the world.

Once the ego has been suitably reduced to ashes, we then become ready to commence the dissolving process of the Great Work. 

In laboratory alchemy, this process involved adding water or some other kind of solvent to the ashy powder left over from the burning of calcination.

In terms of psychospiritual alchemy, we now come into contact with the waters of the unconscious. Here, it is as if we are drowned in all of our long-repressed emotions, swamped by our most painful memories, and shaken by the most terrifying of our latent fears and anxieties.

These previous unconscious elements are the deepest, most obscured parts of ourselves which we have worked hard to keep hidden from both others and ourselves for an entire lifetime. These repressed psychic contents are matters of profound consequence, and addressing them fully is a matter not to be taken lightly. 

We have seen that the previous phase of calcination tends to involve a kind of destructive fire which rages through our lives, consuming everything it touches as it burns.

However, it is in this next stage of dissolution where we begin our first steps toward conscious awareness of what is truly happening to us. 

It is during this phase when we must truly come to terms with our lives and all of the losses we have experienced. In dissolution, we start to deal with our real, lived experiences and our deeply felt sense of what it means to grieve, not merely as an intellectual exercise, but in our hearts and through our bodies. 

This process requires that we surrender to the often painful truth of our current realities. We must learn to let go of any grasping or clinging to what our ego has desired or has falsely believed to be true. 

In the stage of dissolution, we are being asked to surrender and come face to face with the contents of our own souls as they truly are.