sobota, 30 września 2017
niedziela, 17 września 2017
Infidelity
Would I ever recommend it? Now, I would no more recommend you to have an affair than I would recommend you have cancer, and yet we know that people who have been ill often talk about how their illness has yielded them a new perspective. The main question that I’ve been asked since I arrived at this conference when I said I would talk about infidelity is, for or against? I said, “Yes.”
I look at affairs from a dual perspective: hurt and betrayal on one side, growth and self-discovery on the other — what it did to you, and what it meant for me. And so when a couple comes to me in the aftermath of an affair that has been revealed, I will often tell them this: Today in the West, most of us are going to have two or three relationships or marriages, and some of us are going to do it with the same person. Your first marriage is over. Would you like to create a second one together?
sobota, 16 września 2017
piątek, 15 września 2017
Komedia/Tragedia Comedy/Tragedy
Literatura współczesna zajmuje się w dużej mierze odważną, pilną obserwacją wywołujących obrzydzenie, przetrąconych kształtów, od których roi się wokół nas i w nas. Tam, gdzie stłumiony został naturalny impuls oskarżania o holocaust- głośnego obwiniania albo ogłaszania panaceum- urzeczywistnia się wielkość sztuki tragedii potężniejszej (dla nas) niż grecka, realistycznej, dobrze nam znanej i w wielu aspektach interesusjącej tragedii demokracji, gdzie ogląda się boga ukrzyżowanego w katastrofach nie tylko potężnych domów królewskich, ale też domów zwykłych ludzi, w każdej wysmaganej i okaleczonej twarzy. I nie ma tu żadnych zmyśleń o niebie, przyszłym szczęściu i zapłacie, które złagodziłyby ów srogi majestat, lecz tylko absolutna ciemność, pustka niespełniona, które pochłaniają istnienia zrodzone jedynie po to, by przegrać. W porównaniu z tym wszystkim nasze historyjki o osiągnięciach brzmią żałośnie. Zbyt dobrze znamy gorycz porażki, straty, rozczarwania i niespełnienia, będącą udziałem nawet tych, którym zazdrości świat. Dlatego nie jesteśmy skłonni przyznawać komedii tak wysokiej rangi jak tragedii. Komedię można zaakceptować jako satyrę, jako przyjemną przystań rozrywki, ale baśni o szczęśliwym życiu po jej zakończeniu nie można brać poważnie. Należy ona do fantastycznej krainy dzieciństwa, chronionej przed rzeczywistością, która wkróte ukaże swe straszne oblicze, tak jak mit o wiecznej szczęśliwości jest dla ludzi starych, którzy muszą przygotować swe serca na przejście prez ostatnią bramę w ciemną noc. Ten trzeźwy sąd współczesnego Zachodu opiera się na całkowitym niezrozumieniu rzeczywistości przedstawionej w baśni, micie i boskiej komedii zbawienia. W starożytnym świecie wszystkie te formy uważane były za stojące wyżej od tragedii, przedstawiające głębszą prawdę, trudniejsze do stworzenia, mające logiczną strukturę i więcej odkrywające. Szczęśliwe zakończenie baśni, mitu i boskiej komedii duszy powinno być odczytywane nie jako zaprzeczenie, ale jako transcendencja uniwersalnej tragedii człowieka. Świat obiektywnie istniejący pozostaje w takim przypadku taki sam, jak był, ale w wyniku przesunięcia akcentu postrzegany jest tak, jakby został zmieniony. Tam, gdzie poprzednio walczyły ze sobą życie i śmierć, teraz ukazuje się jasno byt, który przetrwał, tak obojętny na wydarzenia czasu jak woda gotująca się w czajniku na los pojawiającego się na jej powierzchni pęcherzyka albo jak kosmos na pojawienie się i zniknięcie całej galaktyki.
Tragedia jest rozbiciem form i naszego przywiązania do nich; komedia- szalona i beztroska- niewyczerpaną radością niezwyciężonego życia. A zatem obie są członami jednego mitologicznego tematu i doświadczenia,
które obejmuje je obie i którego stanowią granice- są schodzeniem i wchodzeniem (kathados i anodos), które łącznie składają się na całość objawienia, jakim jest życie, i które jednostka musi znać i kochać, jeśli ma zostać oczyszczona ze skazy grzechu (nieposłuszeństwa wobec woli boskiej) i śmierci (utożsamienia ze śmiertelną formą).
„Wszystko się zmienia nic nie umiera. Duch wędruje, przybywa raz tu, raz tam i zajmuje taki kształt, jaki zechce [...]. Bo tego, co niegdyś istniało, już nie ma, a to, czego nie było, stało się; i tak znowu przemija cały cykl ruchu”
„Tylko ciała, w których mieszka ta wieczna, niezniszczalna, niepojęta Istota, mają kres”.
Jest zadaniem mitologii właściwej i baśni ukazanie specyficznych niebezpieczeństw i technik ciemnej drogi prowadzącej w głębi duszy od tragedii do komedii. Dlatego wydarzenia są fantastyczne i ‘nierzeczywiste’ przedstawiają zwycięstwa psychiczne, nie fizyczne. (...) Zanim to i to będzie można zrobić w rzeczywistości ziemskiej, trzeba wprzódy sprawić, żeby coś bardziej podstawowego, coś ważniejszego przeszło przez labirynt, który wszyscy znamy i odwiedzamy w naszych snach. Nawiasem mówiąc, przejście bohatera mitologicznego przez labirynt może mieć miejsce na ziemi, chociaż jest ono wejściem do wewnątrz- w głębiny, w których pokonuje się nieznany opór i odnajduje dawno utracone, zapomniane moce, dzięki którym można przekształcać świat. Po dokonaniu tego życie nie jest nieustannym pasmem udręk i cierpień w obliczu wszechoobecnego nieszczęścia, znoszeniem bez cienia nadziei ciosów czasu i okropności przestrzeni, ale- mimo nadal widocznej jego grozy i przeraźliwych krzyków bólu- zaczyna je przenikać podtrzymująca na duchu miłość i świadomość własnej niezwyciężonej mocy. Zaczyna przenikać z coraz większą siłą nieco tego światła, które płonie w jego otchłaniach, lecz nie jest normalnie widoczne przez nieprzejrzystą materialność. Straszne zniekształcenia jawią się wtedy jako zaledwie cienie immanentnej, niezniszczalej wieczności, czas ustępuje chwale, a cały świat rozbrzmiewa cudowną,anielską, choć może w końcu monotonną muzyką sfer. Podobnie jak szczęśliwe rodziny, mity i zbawione światy są wszystkie takie same.
Modern literature is devoted, in great measure, to a courageous,
open-eyed observation of the sickeningly broken figurations that
abound before us, aroimd us, and within. Where the natural impulse
to complain against the holocaust has been suppressed—to
cry out blame, or to announce panaceas—the magnitude of an
art of tragedy more potent (for us) than the Greek finds realization:
the realistic, intimate, and variously interesting tragedy of
democracy, where the god is beheld crucified in the catastrophes
not of the great houses only but of every common home, every
scourged and lacerated face. And there is no make-believe about
heaven, future bliss, and compensation, to alleviate the bitter
majesty, but only utter darkness, the void of unfulfillment, to receive
and eat back the lives that have been tossed forth from the
womb only to fail.
In comparison with all this, our little stories of achievement
seem pitiful; Too well we know what bitterness of failure, loss,
disillusionment, and ironic unfulfillment galls the blood of even
the envied of the world! Hence we are not disposed to assign
to comedy the high rank of tragedy. Comedy as satire is acceptable,
as fun it is a pleasant haven of escape, but the fairy tale of
happiness ever after cannot be taken seriously; it belongs to the
never-never land of childhood, which is protected from the realities
that will become terribly known soon enough; just as the
myth of heaven ever after is for the old, whose lives are behind
them and whose hearts have to be readied for the last portal of
the transit into night—which sober, modern Occidental judgment
is founded on a total misunderstanding of the realities
depicted in the fairy tale, the myth, and the divine comedies of
redemption. These, in the ancient world, were regarded as of
a higher rank than tragedy, of a deeper truth, of a more difficult
realization, of a sounder structure, and of a revelation more
complete.
The happy ending of the fairy tale, the myth, and the divine
comedy of the soul, is to be read, not as a contradiction, but as a
transcendence of the universal tragedy of man. The objective
world remains what it was, but, because of a shift of emphasis
within the subject, is beheld as though transformed. Where
formerly life and death contended, now enduring being is made
manifest—as indifferent to the accidents of time as water boiling
in a pot is to the destiny of a bubble, or as the cosmos to the appearance
and disappearance of a galaxy of stars. Tragedy is the
shattering of the forms and of our attachment to the forms; comedy,
the wild and careless, inexhaustible joy of life invincible.
Thus the two are the terms of a single mythological theme and
experience which includes them both and which they bound: the
down-going and the up-coming (kathodos and anados), which
together constitute the totality of the revelation that is life, and
which the individual must know and love if he is to be purged
(kathursis = purgatorio) of the contagion of sin (disobedience to
the divine will) and death (identification with the mortal form).
"All things are changing; nothing dies. The spirit wanders,
comes now here, now there, and occupies whatever frame it
pleases. . . . For that which once existed is no more, and that
which was not has come to be; and so the whole round of motion
is gone through again."1'1 "Only the bodies, of which this eternal,
imperishable, incomprehensible Self is the indweller, are said to
have an end."34
It is the business of mythology proper, and of the fairy tale, to
reveal the specific dangers and techniques of the dark interior
way from tragedy to comedy. Hence the incidents are fantastic
and "unreal": they represent psychological, not physical, triumphs.
Even when the legend is of an actual historical personage,
the deeds of victory are rendered, not in lifelike, but in
dreamlike figurations; for the point is not that such-and-such
was done on earth; the point is that, before such-and-such could
be done on earth, this other, more important, primary thing had
to be brought to pass within the labyrinth that we all know and
visit in our dreams. The passage of the mythological hero may
be over-ground, incidentally; fundamentally it is inward—into
depths where obscure resistances are overcome, and long lost,
forgotten powers are revivified, to be made available for the
transfiguration of the world. This deed accomplished, life no
longer suffers hopelessly under the terrible mutilations of ubiquitous
disaster, battered by time, hideous throughout space; but
with its horror visible still, its cries of anguish still tumultuous,
it becomes penetrated by an all-suffusing, all-sustaining love,
and a knowledge of its own unconquered power. Something of the
light that blazes invisible within the abysses of its normally opaque
materiality breaks forth, with an increasing uproar. The dreadful
mutilations are then seen as shadows, only, of an immanent,
imperishable eternity; time yields to glory; and the world sings
with the prodigious, angelic, but perhaps finally monotonous,
siren music of the spheres. Like happy families, the myths and
the worlds redeemed are all alike.
Katharsis
Oczyszczenie uczuć widza poprzez doświadczanie litości i strachu. Litość jest uczuciem, które zatrzymuje ducha na widok wszystkiego, co ciężkie i nieprzemijające w ludzkim cierpieniu, i łączy go z cierpiącym człowiekiem. Strach jest uczuciem, które zatrzymuje ducha na widok wszystkiego, co ciężkie i nieprzemijające w ludzkim cierpieniu i łączy go z tajemną przyczyną
Campbell s.24
Campbell s.24
czwartek, 14 września 2017
wtorek, 12 września 2017
niedziela, 10 września 2017
Vampires
Shadows of the internal kind may be disempowered like vampires, simply by bringing them
out of the Shadows and into the light of consciousness
out of the Shadows and into the light of consciousness
sobota, 9 września 2017
Rola psychoanalityka
Do
terapii Pacjenci często zgłaszają się, ponieważ nie mają już chęci życia, nie
mają woli robienia czegokolwiek bądź też czują, że ich libido jest tłumione i
„usycha". Słowem - ich pragnienie umiera (...) Analityk musi podtrzymać pozycję pragnienia -
pragnienia, by pacjent mówił, śnił, fantazjował, kojarzył i interpretował”.
piątek, 8 września 2017
Trickster
There's a wonderful story in some African tradition of the god who's walking down the road wearing a hat that is colored red on one side and blue on the other side. When the farmers in the field go into the village in the evening, they say, "Did you see that god with the blue hat?" And the others say, "No, no, he had a red hat on." And they get into a fight.
CAMPBELL: Yes, that's the Nigerian trickster god, Eshu. He makes it even worse by first walking in one direction and then turning around and turning his hat around, too, so that again it will be red or blue. Then when these two chaps get into a fight and are brought before the king for judgment, this trickster god appears, and he says, "It's my fault, I did it, and I meant to do it. Spreading strife is my greatest joy."
Trickster is the boundary- crosser. Every group has its edge, its sense of in and out, and trickster is always there, at the gates of the city and the gates of life, making sure there is commerce. He also attends the internal boundaries by which groups articulate their social life. We constantly distinguish- right and wrong , sacred and profane, clean and dirty, male and female, young and old, living and dead- and in every case trickster will cross the line and confuse the distinction.
CAMPBELL: Yes, that's the Nigerian trickster god, Eshu. He makes it even worse by first walking in one direction and then turning around and turning his hat around, too, so that again it will be red or blue. Then when these two chaps get into a fight and are brought before the king for judgment, this trickster god appears, and he says, "It's my fault, I did it, and I meant to do it. Spreading strife is my greatest joy."
A trickster does not live near the hearth; he does not live in the halls of justice, the soldier’s tent, the shaman’s hut, the monastery. He passes through each of these when there is a moment of silence, and he enlivens each with mischief, but he is not their guiding spirit. He is the spirit of the doorway leading out (wejście prowadzące na zewnątrz), and of the crossroad at the edge of town (the one where a little market springs up). He is the spirit of the road at dusk, the one that runs from one town to another and belongs to neither.
Trickster is the boundary- crosser. Every group has its edge, its sense of in and out, and trickster is always there, at the gates of the city and the gates of life, making sure there is commerce. He also attends the internal boundaries by which groups articulate their social life. We constantly distinguish- right and wrong , sacred and profane, clean and dirty, male and female, young and old, living and dead- and in every case trickster will cross the line and confuse the distinction.
Where someone’s sense of honorable behavior has left him unable to act, trickster will appear to suggest an amoral action, something right/wrong that will get life going again. Trickster is the mythic embodiment of ambiguity and ambivalence, doubleness and duplicity, contradiction and paradox.
Trickster Is a boundary-crosser, but there are also cases in which trickster creates a boundary, or brings to the surface a distinction previously hidden from sight. The god of the threshold in all its forms.
Trickster makes this world
Original/Conventional/Dimensional mind (Dimensional mind-Master mind)
Let us call this quality the Original Mind. This mind looked at the world more directly—not through words and received ideas. It was flexible and receptive to new information. Retaining a memory of this Original Mind, we cannot help but feel nostalgia for the intensity with which we used to experience the world. As the years pass, this intensity inevitably diminishes. We come to see the world through a screen of words and opinions; our prior experiences, layered over the present, color what we see. We no longer look at things as they are, noticing their details, or wonder why they exist. Our minds gradually tighten up. We become defensive about the world we now take for granted, and we become upset if our beliefs or assumptions are attacked.
We can call this way of thinking the Conventional Mind. Under pressure to make a living and conform to society, we force our minds into tighter and tighter grooves. We may seek to retain the spirit of childhood here and there, playing games or participating in forms of entertainment that release us from the Conventional Mind. Sometimes when we visit a different country where we cannot rely upon everything being familiar, we become childlike again, struck by the oddness and newness of what we are seeing. But because our minds are not completely engaged in these activities, because they last only a short while, they are not rewarding in a deep sense. They are not creative.
Masters and those who display a high level of creative energy are simply people who manage to retain a sizeable portion of their childhood spirit despite the pressures and demands of adulthood. This spirit manifests itself in their work and in their ways of thinking. Children are naturally creative. They actively transform everything around them, play with ideas and circumstances, and surprise us with the novel things they say or do. But the natural creativity of children is limited; it never leads to discoveries, inventions, or substantial works of art.
Masters not only retain the spirit of the Original Mind, but they add to it their years of apprenticeship and an ability to focus deeply on problems or ideas. This leads to high-level creativity. Although they have profound knowledge of a subject, their minds remain open to alternative ways of seeing and approaching problems. They are able to ask the kinds of simple questions that most people pass over, but they have the rigor and discipline to follow their investigations all the way to the end. They retain a childlike excitement about their field and a playful approach, all of which makes the hours of hard work alive and pleasurable. Like children, they are capable of thinking beyond words—visually, spatially, intuitively—and have greater access to preverbal and unconscious forms of mental activity, all of which can account for their surprising ideas and creations.
Some people maintain their childlike spirit and spontaneity, but their creative energy is dissipated in a thousand directions, and they never have the patience and discipline to endure an extended apprenticeship. Others have the discipline to accumulate vast amounts of knowledge and become experts in their field, but they have no flexibility of spirit, so their ideas never stray beyond the conventional and they never become truly creative. Masters manage to blend the two—discipline and a childlike spirit—together into what we shall call the Dimensional Mind. Such a mind is not constricted by limited experience or habits. It can branch out into all directions and make deep contact with reality. It can explore more dimensions of the world. The Conventional Mind is passive—it consumes information and regurgitates it in familiar forms. The Dimensional Mind is active, transforming everything it digests into something new and original, creating instead of consuming.
It is hard to say exactly why Masters are able to retain their childlike spirit while accumulating facts and knowledge, when such a feat has been difficult if not impossible for so many. Perhaps they found it harder to let go of childhood, or perhaps at some point they intuited the powers they could have by keeping their childhood spirit alive and bringing it to bear in their work. In any event, achieving the Dimensional Mind is never easy. Often, the childlike spirit of Masters lies dormant in the Apprenticeship Phase as they patiently absorb all of the details of their field. This spirit then comes back to them as they attain the freedom and opportunity to actively use the knowledge they have gained. Often it is a struggle, and Masters go through a crisis as they deal with the demands of others to conform and be more conventional. Under such pressure, they may try to repress their creative spirit, but often it comes back later with double intensity.
Understand: we all possess an inborn creative force that wants to become active. This is the gift of our Original Mind, which reveals such potential. The human mind is naturally creative, constantly looking to make associations and connections between things and ideas. It wants to explore, to discover new aspects of the world, and to invent. To express this creative force is our greatest desire, and the stifling of it the source of our misery. What kills the creative force is not age or a lack of talent, but our own spirit, our own attitude. We become too comfortable with the knowledge we have gained in our apprenticeships. We grow afraid of entertaining new ideas and the effort that this requires. To think more flexibly entails a risk—we could fail and be ridiculed. We prefer to live with familiar ideas and habits of thinking, but we pay a steep price for this: our minds go dead from the lack of challenge and novelty; we reach a limit in our field and lose control over our fate because we become replaceable.
What this means, however, is that we equally possess the potential to spark this innate creative force back to life, no matter how old we are. Experiencing a return of this creative force has an immensely therapeutic effect on our spirits and on our career. By understanding how the Dimensional Mind operates and what helps it flourish, we can consciously revive our mental elasticity and reverse the deadening process. The powers that the Dimensional Mind can bring are nearly limitless, and within the reach of almost all of us.
Look at the case of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. He is generally considered the epitome of the child prodigy and the inexplicable genius, a freak of nature. How else are we to explain his uncanny abilities at such a young age, and the ten-year burst of creative activity at the end of his life that culminated in so many innovations and universally loved works? In truth, his genius and creativity is eminently explicable, which does not at all diminish his achievements.
Immersed in and enchanted by music from the very beginning of his life, he brought to his earliest studies a high level of focus and intensity. The mind of a four-year-old is even more open and impressionable than that of a child a few years older. Much of this powerful attention stemmed from his deep love of music. And so practicing the piano was not some kind of chore or duty, but an opportunity to expand his knowledge and to explore more musical possibilities. By the age of six, he had accumulated the hours of practice of someone twice his age. The years of touring exposed him to every possible trend and innovation of his time. His mind became filled with an extensive vocabulary of forms and styles.
In his adolescence Mozart experienced a typical creative crisis, one that often destroys or derails those who are less tenacious. For close to eight years, under pressure from his father, the archbishop, and the court of Salzburg, and bearing the burden of supporting his family, he had to temper his own powerful creative urges. At this critical point he could have succumbed to this dampening of his spirit and continued to write relatively tame pieces for the court. He would have then ended up among the lesser-known composers of the eighteenth century. Instead he rebelled and reconnected with his childlike spirit—that original desire of his to transform the music into his own voice, to realize his dramatic urges in opera. With all of his pent-up energy, his long apprenticeship, the deep level of his knowledge, he naturally exploded with creativity once he had freed himself from his family. The speed with which he could compose such masterpieces is not a reflection of some divine gift, but rather of how powerfully his mind had come to think in musical terms, which he could translate easily onto paper. He was not a freak, but a signpost of the outer reaches of the creative potential we all naturally possess.
The Dimensional Mind has two essential requirements: one, a high level of knowledge about a field or subject; and two, the openness and flexibility to use this knowledge in new and original ways. The knowledge that prepares the ground for creative activity largely comes from a rigorous apprenticeship in which we have mastered all of the basics. Once the mind is freed from having to learn these basics, it can focus on higher, more creative matters. The problem for us all is that the knowledge we gain in the Apprenticeship Phase—including numerous rules and procedures—can slowly become a prison. It locks us into certain methods and forms of thinking that are one-dimensional. Instead, the mind must be forced from its conservative positions and made active and exploratory.
To awaken the Dimensional Mind and move through the creative process requires three essential steps: first, choosing the proper Creative Task, the kind of activity that will maximize our skills and knowledge; second, loosening and opening up the mind through certain Creative Strategies; and third, creating the optimal mental conditions for a Breakthrough or Insight. Finally, throughout the process we must also be aware of the Emotional Pitfalls—complacency, boredom, grandiosity, and the like—that continually threaten to derail or block our progress. If we can move through the steps while avoiding these traps, we cannot fail to unleash powerful creative forces from within.
IF PEOPLE KNEW HOW HARD I WORKED TO GET MY MASTERY, IT WOULDN'T SEEM SO WONDERFUL AT ALL
MICHELANGELO
poniedziałek, 4 września 2017
niedziela, 3 września 2017
Subskrybuj:
Posty (Atom)