James-She's a star (with lyrics)

FOR EVERYONE I LOVED

"I'm Not Trying To Forget You"

I'm not trying to forget you anymore
I've got back into remembering all the love we had before
And I'd been trying to forget someone that my heart still adores
So I'm not trying to forget you anymore

You're just someone who brought happiness into my life
And it did not last forever, oh, but that's alright
We were always more than lovers and I'm still your friend
And if I had the chance, I'd do it all again

I'm not trying to forget you anymore
I've got back into remembering all the love we had before
And I'd been trying to forget someone that my heart still adores
So I'm not trying to forget you anymore

You're just someone who brought happiness into my life
And it did not last forever, oh, but that's alright
We were always more than lovers and I'm still your friend
And if I had the chance, I'd do it all again

So I'm not trying to forget you anymore
I got back into remembering all the love we had before
And the best day of my life is still when you walked through my door
So I'm not trying to forget you anymore
I'm not trying to forget you anymore

WILLIE NELSON

REPOST; JUNG'S,'LIVERPOOL DREAM'.

www.guildofpastoralpsychology.org.uk

A Healing Symbol.

The conscious experience of the archetype was characterised by a particularly feeling-tone, which gave it its fascinating and com-
pelling character.

In order more accurately to define this essential aspect of the archetype, Jung referred back to Otto’s category of the
numinous.

It was the energetic aspect of the archetype, says Jung, that accomplished the healing, since it impressed the conscious mind
with the experience of a meaning hitherto lacking.

Experience of the archetype is not only impressive, it seizes and possesses the whole personality, and is naturally productive of
faith
… When … a distressing situation arises, the corresponding archetype will be constellated in the unconscious.

Since
this archetype is numinous, i.e., possesses a specific energy, it will attract to itself the contents of consciousness, conscious ideas
that render it perceptible and hence capable of conscious realisation. Its passing over into consciousness is felt as an illumination,
a revelation, or a ‘saving idea’. [Jung, CW5, paras. 44, 450]

This overwhelming dynamism of the archetype is irrefutable to consciousness because of the emotion it generates.

It complements
consciousness with the non-rational contents of the unconscious, which have an autonomy and purpose of their own.


There is a mystical aura about its numinosity, and it has a corresponding effect upon the emotions. It mobilizes philosophical and
religious convictions in the very people who deemed themselves miles above any such fits of weakness.


Often it drives
with unexampled passion and remorseless logic towards its goal and draws the subject under its spell, from which despite the
most desperate resistance he is unable, and finally no longer even willing, to break free, because the experience brings with it a
depth and fulness of meaning that was unthinkable before. [Jung, CW8, para.405]

I would now like to turn to examples of the numinous experience, and in particular, those that can be classified under the heading
‘Vision of Light.’ These may be experiences of outer life, dreams or visions. What they have in common is the illumination of the dark-
ness of life, a resolution of conflicting opposites, and a restoration of meaning.

The first example is a dream of Jung himself, dating from
the end of his school days. It was a time when he was in confusion and indecision about what he should study at university.

He was
equally divided between the arts and the sciences. At this time of conflict, he had the following dream:


… I was in a wood; it was threaded with watercourses, and in the darkest place I saw a circular pool, surrounded by dense under-
growth. Half immersed in the water lay the strangest and most wonderful creature: a round animal, shimmering in opalescent
hues, and consisting of innumerable little cells, or of organs shaped like tentacles. It was a giant radiolarian, measuring about three
feet across. It seemed to me indescribably wonderful that this magnificent creature should be lying there undisturbed, in the hid-
den place, in the clear, deep water. It aroused in me an intense desire for knowledge, so that I awoke with a beating heart.
[Jung,Memories, Dreams, Reflections, p.105].
This dream was instrumental in removing Jung’s doubts about studying the sciences.

In the dream, we can see several specific characteristics of the vision of light, as this particular archetype manifests itself. There is the
darkness of the wood, symbolising the confusion and inner lack of clarity in life. Then there is the central source of light, emphasised in
this dream by the circular pond with its spherical occupant, the radiolarian.

But the real resolution that the image brought was the actual emotional experience for Jung, the effect of which was to resolve the conflict of opposites in consciousness. The luminosity of the creature was at the same time its numinosity, charging consciousness with energy from the unconscious, and thereby creating meaning.

The experience of light was also central to a later dream of Jung, which came to resolve another dark period in his life. This dream was
preceded two years earlier by an actual experience of light, magnificent and awesome, which he had when he visited East Africa. Among
the Elgonyi tribe, Jung was eager to discover if they had any religious rites or ceremonies, the ‘numina’, as he calls them. Eventually he
was told of one custom, which so impressed him that he mentions it several times in his Collected Works.

An old man tells Jung:

“In the
morning, when the sun comes up, we go out of the huts, spit into our hands, and hold them up to the sun.” Jung goes on:
I had him show me the ceremony and describe it exactly. They held their hands in front of their mouths, spat or blew vigorously,
then turned their hands towards the sun. [Ibid., p.296]

The man explained that all the tribes around worshipped the sun at the moment of rising, for only then was the sun mungu, God.

Jung
goes on to interpret the ritual action:
Evidently, the meaning of the Eligonyi ceremony was that an offering was being made to the sun divinity at the moment of its ris-
ing. If the gift was spittle, it was the substance which, in the view of the primitives, contains the personal mana, the power of heal-
ing, magic, and life.

If it was breath, it was robo – Arabic, ruch, Hebrew, ruach, Greek, pneuma – wind and spirit. The act was there-
fore saying: I offer to God my living soul. It was a wordless, acted-out prayer, which might equally be rendered: “Lord, into thy
hands I commend my spirit.” [Ibid., pp.296-97]

Jung later describes in poetic, Iyrical fashion, watching the sunrise over the African landscape. It obviously touched him deeply:


At such moments I felt as if I were inside a temple. It was the most sacred hour of the day. I drank in this glory with insatiable
delight, or rather, in a timeless ecstasy. [Ibid., p.298]
He reflects further on this experience, which even the local baboons seemed to share:
… for untold ages men have worshipped the great god who redeems the world by rising out of the darkness as a radiant light in
the heavens. At that time I understood that within the soul from its primordial beginnings there has been a desire for light and an
irrepressible urge to rise out of the primal darkness. When the great night comes, everything takes on a note of deep dejection,
and every soul is seized by an irrepressible longing for light … That is why the sun’s birth in the morning strikes the natives as
so overwhelmingly meaningful. The moment in which light comes is God. That moment brings redemption, release. [Ibid., pp.298-
9]
The light is not only symbolic of the light of consciousness rising out of the darkness of the unconscious, but also portrays the essence
of the central, ruling archetype of the psyche, the Self, the source of consciousness itself.

The awesome experience of the African dawn,
indeed of any dawn, encapsulates the miracle of the origin of human consciousness. It recapitulates, in a ritual designed by nature itself,
a mythic enactment of the first times, when the creator god created humanity in his own image, and instilled in him the spirit of con-
sciousness.

The creative energy of this moment is what the Elgonyi tribe reconnected with in their morning ritual, and it is what we
reconnect with every time we experience the numinosity of the archetype.

Two years after his African journey, in 1927, Jung had a dream which finally confirmed for him what he had learned during the dark-
est period of his life, which had begun with his split from Freud. This had been a period of confusion and disorientation, when even his
sanity at times seemed at risk. His emergence began with a long series of automatic drawings of circular shapes, which he later came to
recognise as mandalas. 

However, he had as yet no idea where this process was leading him, or what the goal was. Gradually it dawned
on him that the mandalas represented the goal, which is the centre of the psyche, the Self.

The path of development, he realised, is only
initially a linear one; ultimately all is directed towards the centre. It was his dream which confirmed this discovery for him, and resolved
his inner doubts.

This is his dream:

I found myself in a dirty, sooty city. It was night, and winter, and dark, and raining. I was in Liverpool. With a number of Swiss
… I walked through the dark streets. I had the feeling that we were coming from the harbour, and that the real city was actually
up above, on the cliffs. We climbed up there … When we reached the plateau, we found a broad square dimly illuminated by street
lights, into which many streets converged. The various quarters of the city were arranged radially around the square. In the cen-
tre was a round pool, and in the middle of it a small island. While everything round about was obscured by rain, fog, smoke, and
dimly lit darkness, the little island blazed with sunlight. On it stood a single tree, a magnolia, in a shower of reddish blossoms. It
was as though the tree stood in the sunlight and was at the same time the source of light. My companions commented on the
abominable weather, and obviously did not see the tree. They spoke of another Swiss who was living in Liverpool, and expressed
surprise that he should have settled here. I was carried away by the beauty of the flowering tree and the
sunlit island, and
thought, “I know very well why he has settled here.” Then I awoke. [Ibid., pp.223-4]


['Magnolia's crop up in movies , more than once! oldsojur]

Jung comments that the dream represented his situation in life at the time. He continues,
Everything was extremely unpleasant, black and opaque – just as I felt then. But I had had a vision of unearthly beauty, and that
was why I was able to live at all. Through this dream I understood that the self is the principle and archetype of orientation and
meaning. Therein lies its healing function … When I parted from Freud, I knew that I was plunging into the unknown. Beyond
Freud, after all, I knew nothing; but I had taken the step into darkness. When that happens, and then such a dream comes, one
feels it as an act of grace. [Ibid., pp.224-5]


After this dream, Jung drew no more mandalas, because, he says, “the dream depicted the climax of the whole process of develop-
ment of consciousness.” The dream brought a sense of finality, in which the goal which is the centre had been revealed.

We are reminded of Jung’s earlier dream above, with the image of the pool in the dark place, and the centre of light which brings resolution and meaning. That dream had given the teenager Jung an image for the future course of his life, providing the psychic energy
that enabled him to take that course. His Liverpool dream likewise brought knowledge and inspiration, which were to last for the rest ofhis life. The images of the dream follow a similar pattern. The movement towards a centre is made very clear – from the city to the pool,to the island to the tree. At the same time there is a movement from darkness to light. It is an increase and intensification of light, a
dawn. We can see in this dawn the resolution of various opposites – light and dark, nature and city, winter and spring. There is also amovement of ascent, which is always associated with spiritual revelations.

The tree, however, is the real centre and source, both of light and life.
It is at the centre of Liverpool, which means the pool of life.
 Its.luminosity is its numinosity. It is the tree of life itself, standing in an everlasting spring, at the heart of the dark, wintry city, which is,how life often seems.

The tree represents life constantly developing and ever rising to the heavens. The magnolia symbolises perfectly,the wonder of life renewed in springtime, banishing the dark of winter, and the threat of death.

It stands, therefore, for the immortal centre of the psyche, which can survive every vicissitude in life. To see a huge magnolia in full bloom is truly an experience of the numinous
in nature.

The darkness in which Jung found himself at the time of the dream stands for what Edward Edinger calls ‘the alienation of the ego,from the Self’. In this state, the person suffers from a sense of meaninglessness. The connection between the ego and Self is important,says Edinger, because it “gives foundation, structure and security to the ego and also provides energy, interest, meaning and purpose.”
[Edinger, Ego and Archetype, p.43]

With the decline of traditional religion, the symbols that mediated the archetypal powers for mankind no longer do their healing work,
and we are faced with disorientation and lack of meaning. Collectively, we have lost contact with the Self. That is why dreams have
become important in the maintenance of psychic health, as they mediate the symbols we need to give our lives meaning. In a letter Jung
says:
I have found that, as a rule, when “archetypal” contents spontaneously appear in dreams, etc., numinous and healing effects
emanate from them. They are primordial psychic experiences which very often give patients access again to blocked religious truths.

I have also had this experience myself. [Jung, Letters II, pp.56-7]
The tree of light cannot but remind us of the burning bush which Moses saw in the wilderness:
The angel of Yahweh appeared to him in a flame blazing from the middle of a bush. Moses looked; there was the bush blazing,
but the bush was not being burned up. [Exodus 3, v.2]

The bush, like Jung’s magnolia, is an image of the vegetative, organic level of the psyche, the centre and source of our life-force, inde-
pendent of our rational will. It is the level where the archetypes pursue their autonomous courses, expending numinous energy, but never
being consumed. The burning bush is the image through which we glimpse the divine immanence in the world. It is an image of the Self
manifested in the material world, ‘a symbol of the source and goal of the individuation process.’ [Jung, CW13, para.241]

To be a fugitive in the wilderness, as Moses was, is to be alienated from the Self, and to lack meaning and purpose in life. Through his
vision of light, Moses was granted a goal, a life-assignment. It was the beginning of his great destiny, to be the saviour and liberator of
his people, and to become the great law-giver. From his peripheral condition and obscurity, Moses became the centre of his people, and
attained the heights of communion with God on Mount Sinai. All was contained in embryo, in the original non-rational
experi-
ence, the paradoxical vision of the burning bush.

The American writer, Annie Dillard, writes in an autobiographical story about her search for the ‘tree with lights.’ She was inspired
by a girl, once blind, who had seen a tree with lights in it. Dillard herself then decides to set off in search of it. She writes:
Then one day I was walking along Tinker Creek thinking of nothing at all, and I saw the tree with lights in it. I saw the backyard
cedar where the mourning doves roost charged and transfigured, each cell buzzing with flame. I stood on the grass with lights in
it, grass that was wholly fire, utterly focussed and utterly dreamed. It was less like seeing than being for the first time seen,
knocked breathless by a powerful glance. The flood of fire abated, but I’m still spending its power … the vision comes and goes,
mostly goes, but I live for it, for the moment when the mountains open and a new light roars in spate through the crack, and the
mountains slam. [Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, pp.33-34, quoted in M. Grey, ‘Transfigured Existence and Recovery of the Dream,’
The Way, Vol.40]
The theologian, Professor Mary Grey, discussing this passage, says the writer captures something that is at the core of ‘transfigured
existence,’ and she quotes the following lines from the poet Kazantsakis, which illuminate all these instances of trees of light:
And I said to the almond tree:
‘Sister, speak to me of God.’
And the almond tree blossomed
[Kazantsakis, Report to Greco, p.234]

Jung writes about the flowering tree in his commentary on The Secret of the Golden Flower. This Chinese alchemical text was sent to Jung
by the sinologist Richard Wilhelm, shortly after Jung had completed a mandala painting with a golden castle at the centre. In the text he
found confirmation of his ideas about the mandala and the circumambulation of the centre. About the golden flower itself he says:
The golden flower is a mandala symbol I have often met with in the material brought me by my patients. It is drawn either seen
from above as a regular geometric pattern, or in profile as a blossom growing from a plant. The plant is frequently a structure in
brilliant fiery colours growing out of a bed of darkness, and carrying the blossom of light at the top, a symbol recalling the
Christmas tree. [Jung, CW13, para.33]
The mandala, or the tree of light, represents the centre of the new being, which it expresses, but also brings into effect. It cre-
ates a sacred temenos, where the healing of the split between conscious and unconscious may take place. It expresses a transfig-
uration of the life experience, from multiplicity into unity, from meaninglessness into meaning.

The transfigured existence which Moses experienced, and which Jung, Dillard and
Kazantsakis each in their own specific way
experienced, was brought about in each case by a vision of the mystical light, in which the meaning lacking in life was restored to them.
This vision of light has always been a part of mystical experiences worldwide, either individual or collective.

'As above, So Below', the Posters for the original Movie, 'MobyDick',