Dream: I am with my father in a boat beside a beach. We are fishing. Suddenly I catch a big fish, but then I lose him as I'm reeling in. We get out of the boat and walk down the beach. We see two men in a boat hauling in a big fish. I say to them "That's my fish!" But they glare at me, and I feel intimidated by them. My dad says that's not a fish at all, but a milk seal. Its head is on the beach beside us, its body on the men's boat. Then I notice on the boat beside the carcass of the deal milk seal is a baby milk seal. He's embracing the carcass, crying for his mother. I feel his pain. I turn away-- his pain is too great, too raw. Now I hope someone will put him out of his misery, kill him. I turn back to look at the baby seal, and see that the men have done just that, they've beheaded the baby seal. Now I feel tremendous regret, sadness, and loss.
This dream says it all, where I'm at in the work. The baby seal is my little boy, who feels the loss of the archetypes, isolated, alone, orphaned. I need to feel his pain, be with his sadness. I am fearful of this. It feels way too scary to be in such a vulnerable place of acute pain. I got there at the summer NOE retreat. I felt the acute pain. It felt exhilerating and frightening. It felt like I was floating free-fall, without a net, into some unknown void. I've felt this same feeling at moments since-- at the NOE circle, in mentoring sessions. But mostly I don't feel it at all; it's just too painful. So the next best thing for me to do is to feel the FEAR of going there. I want to hide from this, too; it is also way too painful, so I react to my fear by going into a place of intense shame, or else I engage in wanton projection.
Why am I so afraid of this pain? Because it is a scary place, a new place, a place where I am exposed, vulnerable. I'm afraid I will not be accepted and loved in this place, because I have no history of that, no reference point. But deep down I know the animus will be waiting for me in this place, unconditionally, and without judgment. He understands why I would be afraid of being there, and all he asks of me right now is that I admit to this fear. When I am in my shame and projection, he can't be there; there's no space for him there. To know that he loves me despite my fear, however, that he embraces me anyway, is an amazing feeling; simply the process of writing these words makes my cold heart melt.
In the NOE circle I can feel the support of the archetypes, in the mentoring sessions, too. Because these are places where I am allowed to feel my feelings rather than remain hostage to my pathology. This place of being supported in the work, by others, but ultimately by the animus, feels wholly different than I am used to being in the world; it gives me license to feel, to experience a new me rising to the surface. I am so grateful for NOE right now. It is still very new to me, but I can see how it is helping to open me up, and when I go into my pain now I feel purposeful, awake, alive, focussed, even called, and standing up to the usual temptation to drift away from the world and others, into depression, withdrawal, projected anger, shame.
My childhood was isolated. I felt alone, abandoned. I went into fantasy-land, creating my own world, out of books, maps, anything. They were my saving grace! I needed them for survival then. But I don't need them anymore. I am about more than mere survival now. As a child I developed a cult of me, the misunderstood martyred boy genius me. What a load of crap. The only part of that that I need to still treasure and love, to continue cultivating, is the idea of the 'genius' me, the SELF-ish me that my shame wants to tamp down. I feel the shame just saying such a thing as: "I am a creative genius." What?!? Who am I to say such things? How do I deserve to say such things? I feel others' disapproval when I say that, I feel their judgment, the "world's eye," as Shakespeare said. It's really my OWN judgment, though, not others'; that's the projection. It's the pathology coming in and TELLing me I am worthless. But I am NOT worthless; I am a child of God; He loves me, and the archetypes love me, and so I am loved... I am loved... I am loved... Keep saying it and maybe I'll believe it someday.
This is a hard thing to admit, to feel. But it is real. I know it. In my heart I know it. I need to feel it more, to feel good about who I am underneath all the layers of shame, worthlessness, crap.
Dream:
I am at the Bache when Marc comes up to me and says one of the Bachers has dropped out, so can I 'pinch-hit' and bache myself? I say yes, but I'm scared. I get up and start to talk about a dream I had involving my father-in-law. I want to talk about how passive he is in my dream. But just then my in-laws walk into the room. I freeze. Marc asks me if I still want to talk about this dream since it involves my father-in-law and he's now in the room. I say no, I don't feel comfortable with that.
This dream makes me aware of my tendency to care-take others, and in the process not take care of myself. I am the care-taking Mighty Mouse, come to save those in distress, to save the day! My homework from this dream is to expose my pathology, to out it, to discuss my dream involving my father-in-law even though it might hurt his feelings. This is a scary, uncomfortable, unfamiliar place for me right now, or ever! I am always looking over my shoulder at what others might think, in my shame and self-consciousness, and so, for fear of offending anyone, I retreat into shadows. I am the Shadow Man, who, along with Mighty Mouse, are roles I play, lies I tell myself. They're not really me, but I've convinced myself they're me. But they're really the me's I think others want me to be. It's sad to me that I've lived my whole life like this, for others, not for myself. I have a secret world I keep from everyone else-- my 'creative genius' place which Marc talks about. My p.d. is the shame-based place I get into when I retreat from the real me, that keeps me tamped down. I can feel the second-guessing coming in every time I feel the urge to assert myself, to BE something. My p.d. tamps me down, prevents me from speaking, from expressing myself, for fear of exposure. It's telling me I don't really have anything worth saying to the world, that it's all just blah blah blah, inconsequential blather, when in actuality this voice talking to me is the real blah blah blah....
I want to not be concerned with the worth of what I do, but just do it anyway, not judge it. But I'm so self-conscious, so judgmental of my truth, so obsessed with 'order' and justification. I want to be unafraid to be a nothing, unafraid to die...