“Just sit with your pain” my higher self told me on a bright sunny morning. “What's the big deal? You've done it before, you know exactly where it comes from.”
“Sure”, I answered although I wasn't exactly sure if another contact with my pain will produce anything fruitful. After all, I've done it before - I have sat with my pain, I have watched it in the eyes, I have held its hand and I have cried with it. I've shouted at it to just get over it and to please move on. And there has been some progress I must admit. I should probably congratulate myself for all the hard work I've done, although I hadn't really changed that much or moved on that further, apart from a click or two in mind. But who can tell what pace is fast and what distance is far enough? Ultimately, isn't it all about relativity in the universe? The ant is tiny but it lifts up to ten to fifty times its body weight. The carnivores may be on top of the food chain but they depend on the flesh of other animals to survive, while the plants extract their food from the sunlight and the soil. One could say that the plants are pretty much self-sufficient, and to me that means they are on the top of the food chain. But my views are unpopular with the order of this world.
Anyway, I knew my higher self was right to suggest a deeper dissection of my soul. I dreaded the thought though. It was a crowded place - my soul (and to set the record straight, yours is just as packed as mine whether you realise it or not). I have met the Naughty child and the Wise old man before. These two gave me some bad headache years ago, you know? They tested their strength at the cost of my own sleep and BMI. And I have definitely learned from that experience! I wasn't going to make the same old mistakes. I knew them well – the Wise old man appeared logical but he wasn't always that intelligent and good. The Naughty child was often mischievous but there were reasons for his difficult behaviour. The old dude appeared to know what's right and what's wrong but he could easily become a cold-blooded tyrant. And the lad...oh that little mischievous monkey! He could spoil any of the Wise old man's brilliant plans in an instance, perhaps because of whimsy, perhaps because of some injustice being done to him.
But this time another character arose, the Courtesan. And everyone was dead scared because she herself was a whole bunch of personalities. The Courtesan was the sophisticated geisha who knew how to stimulate the aesthetic sensations of the educated men. She was the therapist who would attune herself to her client and perhaps find an appropriate treatment. Lady Courtesan was also the mother who could not stand any pain and would run over to ease all the sufferance. She was the High priestess who knew the secrets of the union between Heaven and Earth. She was the life force which resurrected me so many times. And she also was the whore of the streets who would either fuck around with almost anybody or change her mind in a second and leave them alone in the rain. A difficult lady, as you might have guessed.
“You all thought I was dead, didn't you?” she asked in her velvety voice. That soft and gentle voice soothed you and drove you nuts at the same time. The Courtesan walked slowly into the spotlight. She wore a bordeaux Chinese dress embroidered with golden dragons and phoenixes. I froze. I knew exactly what the animals symbolize – chaos, hidden knowledge and rebirth. I was about to experience inner chaos again and I really wasn't looking forward to this. But sometimes storms just come our way and all we can do is to endure them, learn from them and grow. An old Zen proverb says “The obstacle is the path”.
“Well,” the Courtesan continued, “I'm glad to be back. Shame, neither of you look that happy.”
The Courtesan was reborn again. And that sure meant one thing: a mess. But I also knew there was absolutely no point fighting her. In fact, the experience of my inner civil war years ago had taught me that fighting any of my characters was useless. For all of us would lose and I just did not have time to be sick or die before my time. So I had to find the middle way, to somehow reconcile all of these energies within me.
“Wish me luck higher self” I whispered.
“Why did you bury me?” asked the Courtesan in a sharp voice this time.
“I'm sorry...” and a teardrop slid down my cheek, “You know why. I just got tired of men and romantic love. I simply had enough.”
The Courtesan looked at me for a long time. Of course she knew. And she was aware that I missed her but felt relieved by her absence at the same time.
“So, you loved playing the role of Mrs. Omnipotent, did you not?”
I nodded.
“Well, sorry to disappoint you darling but it's time for your curtain call. I NEED to connect”
“You see” I started hesitantly “As you correctly pointed out, I'm not omnipotent. No one is. I only felt powerful because I was happy on my own. Self-sufficiency, big time. I did not need a man's appreciation to lift my confidence. I was okay with myself being just the way I am. And you know that thanks to You I feel good about myself. For that I am forever grateful my lady! But I cannot make anybody fall in love with me. I cannot make anyone want to make love to me, to us.”
“Oh yes, you can” she smiled.
“You know I would not, even if I could” I replied swiftly. “Those days are over. I've learned my lesson well and am not wasting time chasing anybody any longer. Whoever wants to love me, will find the way towards me and whoever doesn't, won't. I like being cool with whatever comes. This is real power. I mean, as much real power a human can experience” I was as firm as a rock.
The Courtesan appeared pensive.
By this time the Naughty child was banging out loud in my chest. Poor fellow didn't need much stimulation to begin his drum solos. He and the Courtesan were sometimes teaming up against me and the Wise old man – almost like Aphrodite and Eros were conspiring against the other gods and the mortals. And it was hard to tell which one of the two led the parade.
“May I say something?” the Wise old man jumped in the conversation.
We all stared at him. What did he want this time? Was he about to hit it on the Courtesan again? Like most men, the sage was both enchanted and scared by courtesans. He was secretly attracted to her and he simultaneously feared her. But he knew that their potential union could lead to a transcendental state...or a step towards it. Carl Jung described this phenomenon quite accurately in his vision about the prophet Elijah and Salome:
“You open the gates of the soul to let the dark flood of chaos flow into your order and meaning. If you marry the ordered [Elijah] to the chaos [Salome] you produce the divine child, the supreme meaning beyond meaning and meaninglessness.”(C.G. Jung, “The Red Book”, 2009: 139)
Jung saw those forces as Elijah and Salome; I perceived them differently and gave them other names but ultimately they were similar in principle and did an identical job.
“Why don't you get creative and write a poem for example?” the Wise old man turned to me.
I thought for a moment. This was a cool idea! A poem would be a useful way to process my feelings and understand the chaos that was raging within. It would also be a good exercise for my creative narcissistic self (the Artist, another inner personality to be examined in the future).
“Well, okay, let's sit down and write a poem then. Let us join forces and move a step closer to the Vitruvian woman."
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