Symbol Watcher

Nichols reminds us that sustained candlelight is achieved through living. "One of the shutters of the Hermit's lamp is blood red, so that the light filtering through it is touched with the color of flesh-and-blood humanity -- tinged with the passion and compassion distilled from the experiences of a lifetime."

I’ve been sitting here in my home office this morning trying to decide what I want to post on my blog. As I was waiting for my brain fog to clear, I lit a candle. I go through a lot of candles. I need the light.

Often, when I’m meditating on a dream I had, or when I’m asking the tarot cards for some illumination, I’ll sit in front of a candle. During the times when I become relaxed and open enough to hear my inner voice, it seems as if the candle streams rays of light right to me.  

The ritual of lighting candles is found in most religious traditions. It’s a way for a universal phenomenon to be brought down to our small, individual, human level.  Advent candles, Eucharist candles, Menorahs, Diwali lamps, candles at Buddha’s feet . . . all lit in our attempt to achieve some spiritual enlightenment during our ongoing battle with the black void of ignorance.

I said earlier that I use Tarot cards as one tool to help me along in my journey. I think it’s interesting that there’s only one card among the major arcana of the deck that shows candlelight. It’s the Hermit. In her book, Jung and Tarot  An Archetypal Journey, Sallie Nichols talks about how candlelight stands as a symbol for both psychological and spiritual insight. “His lamp seems an apt symbol for the individual insight of the mystic.  . . . the Hermit offers us the possibility of individual illumination as a universal human potential, an experience not confined to canonized saints but available, in some degree, to all humankind. . . . He offers us that inward light whose golden flame alone dispels spiritual chaos and darkness.”

So if candlelight, from a psychological perspective, symbolizes spiritual insight gained through inner knowing, I think we’d be wise to take note if it shows up in our dreams.  Are we able to light the candle and keep it lit? Is someone helping us light it? Who is that person? Remember, the person might represent an aspect of ourselves. Is the candle protected from negative influences (both internal and external) such as wind and rain? If not, what blew it out?

– Writeye

May 5th, 2009 | Tags: candlelight symbolism, Hermit tarot card symbolism | Category: Jungian Psychology, Symbol Brief |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Leave a comment

From William Blake's collection of engraved prints, "Illustrations of the Book of Job," published 1826.

It’s very windy in my part of the world today.  The just-budding bushes and trees are knocking at my windows letting me know they’re awake and spring is moving in.

Wind is the world pushing forward, changing, ending and beginning. It stops long enough to pick up and carry off whatever is in its path — from the smallest dirt speck to the biggest ocean wave. It is both powerful and invisible.

Many ancient cultures revered the wind.  In ancient China the wind, called “feng,” was worshipped as a bird god.  In the Islamic tradition of ancient Islam, the wind was believed to help organize the chaos of the cosmos. Aztecs recognized the power of air by honoring the wind god, Ehecatl.

Jung reminded us that the Greek word “pneuma” means both wind and Holy Spirit.  In the Old Testament, God comes to Job in a whirlwind.  The Hebrew word “ruah,” which is feminine in gender, means wind, spirit and breath. 

In her book, Awakening Woman Dreams and Individuation, Jungian analyst Nancy Qualls-Corbett says, “Wind, in religious and mythological thought, is symbolic of creative spirit.  For example, four winds were evoked by Ezekiel to bring life to dry bones.  . . . Even prior to Christian writing, the sun god was thought to have a long tube connected to him like a phallus from which the procreative winds originated to disperse his fructifying rays.”

I’m in a bit of a winter mood, wondering if certain parts of my life are ever going to move forward again. So I’m thankful I heard the wind today. It reminded me that the winds of change do come, even though they come in their own time and at their own speed. I just have to be patient. 

– Writeye

March 29th, 2009 | Tags: wind symbolism | Category: Jungian Psychology, Symbol Brief |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Leave a comment

Owls are symbolic of knowledge and wisdom. They are associated with guiding people through the unknown because of their nocturnal eyesight and vigilance.

On one end sits The Comedian and Rorschach. Their emotions control their lives. They act chiefly on the impulse to destroy. The Comedian seems to find pleasure in the pain he inflicts. Rorschach operates with righteous anger seeded in wounds that were inflicted on him a long time ago. (It’s a nice touch that Rorschach has red hair to symbolize his fiery, emotional nature.) Both men are out of control because they can’t get their emotions under control.  Acting on whatever impulse is welling up in them at the moment is all they know and they make no attempt to put an end to their pain by finding another way.

At the opposite place on the seesaw sits Doctor Manhattan and Ozymandias. The two men represent cerebralism taken to the extreme of nearly complete emotional detachment. Thanks to suffering the consequences of being accidentally locked in an ”intrinsic field chamber,” Doctor Manhattan can travel through time and space and see into the future. These distancing abilities have allowed him to detach from the regular treadmill of human existence. Dr. Manhattan’s altered state also means he could change the course of human events. He chooses not to because, as he explains, it wouldn’t change human nature. So he watches. Appropriately, he radiates blue, the color of spiritual and intellectual life, detachment, eternity.

Ozymandias is called the smartest man on earth. Like Dr. Manhattan, he lives a cerebral existence tending to his multi-billion dollar corporation and studying the great leaders of ancient Egypt. His office is hundreds of feet in the sky, eye-level with the blimps and the birds. Unlike Dr. Manhattan, Ozymandias believes his intelligence and objectivity give him the unique right to intervene in human affairs on a massive scale — sacrificing millions of human lives in order to save the human race.

I think there is one character who acts as the balance, the midpoint in this seesaw of extremes.  Nite Owl II personifies the melding of relatedness and reason. Jungians call this the uniting of Eros and Logos. He feels without letting his emotions run his life. When innocent people are hurt, it affects him in a way that broadens his humanity and propels him to swallow his fear and fire up Archie, his crime-fighting flying machine. Nite Owl is the only character who attempts to have a positive love relationship. Making love to Laurie Jupiter is a physical manifestation of Nite Owl’s attempt to unite the Eros-Logos energies within him.

I’ve read some criticism that Watchmen doesn’t have enough action, but for me the great thing about the movie was that it took the time to show heroes who were multidimensional and flawed, victims of their own demons and free will.  And there’s plenty of symbolism, so if there’s some particular imagery that you enjoyed in Watchmen, please let us know.

– Writeye

March 8th, 2009 | Tags: blue symbolism, Eros meaning, Logos meaning, Owl symbolism, red symbolism, Watchmen movie characters | Category: Jungian Psychology, Movies |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Comments (4)

Ma'at or Mayet, Egyptian Goddess of truth, balance, order and justice.

Several years ago my Aunt Cyndi returned from a trip to Egypt and presented me with a beautiful painting of the Egyptian Goddess Ma’at.  I had just moved and told myself I would get it framed and hung as soon as I was settled.  So I rolled up the papyrus and put it in a closet for safe keeping.  Here it is, at least four years later, and as I was cleaning out the closet in my newly set up home office, I found the gift my aunt was thoughtful enough to give me. This time I didn’t stow it away. I bought a frame for it and put it on top of a bookcase in my office.

At first, I couldn’t remember which goddess my aunt told me it was, so I started pouring through my mythology books and searching the web. I found she is Ma’at or Mayet, the Egyptian Goddess of truth, balance, world order and justice. She’s easy to recognize because she wears an ostrich feather in her headband.  It’s the feather she uses to weigh the hearts of the deceased. (“Maat” means ostrich feather.) Both the ostriches and the feathers are depicted several times in my painting.

I found several variations of exactly how the soul-weighing rite is conducted, but basically the heart of the deceased (believed to be the soul) is placed on one side of the balance scale and an ostrich feather on the other. Ma’at sits on her heels at one end of the scales. If the scales balance, the soul is not heavy with wrong doing and the departed is on the way to paradise. This seated Ma’at is pictured in the upper right of my painting with an ankh (a symbol of immortal life) atop her knees.

If the scale doesn’t balance and the deceased soul is found guilty, the heart is thrown to Ammut “the Devourer,” who sits on the other side of the scales. Ammut is evidently a nasty combination of lion, hippo and crocodile.

Ma’at’s role in Egyptian mythology also includes instilling order out of the chaos of creation by regulating the stars and seasons. Her far reaching responsibilities are probably why she is often depicted as having outstretched wings, as she does in the painting my aunt gave me.

Thank you for such a meaningful gift Aunt Cyndi.

– Writeye

February 22nd, 2009 | Tags: ancient Egyptian afterlife rite, ankh symbolism, Ma'at or Mayet symbolism | Category: Art |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Leave a comment

When we make love in our dreams, we are most often attempting to unite with some aspect of ourselves.

Carl Jung said, ”All consciousness separates; but in dreams we put on the likeness of that more universal, truer, more eternal man dwelling in the darkness of primordial night. There he is still whole, and the whole is in him, indistinguishable from nature and bare of all egohood. Out of these all uniting depths arises the dream, be it never so childish, grotesque and immoral.”  (As quoted in the glossary of Jung’s autobiography, Memories, Dreams, Reflections.) 

Dreams introduce us to attitudes we’re unaware of and parts of ourselves we’re blind to for one core purpose: to help each of us become whole. I can’t think of any dream symbolism that undertakes the task of psychic union better than sexual intercourse.

In general, when we dream we’re having sex with someone, our psyche is trying to unite our conscious mind with the characteristics inside ourselves that our dream sex partner represents.  So when we have a sex dream, we have to ask ourselves, “What are my associations with the person I’m having sex with?”

Whether you know the person in waking life or not and whether the sex of the person matches your conscious sexual orientation is not as immediately important as the personal associations you have for the person.

For instance, if, as a heterosexual female, I have a dream of making love with a woman who is a teacher, the dream might be pointing out that I have teacher-like qualities within myself that I need to be aware of and perhaps utilize in some way in conscious life. It might also be commenting on an unconscious desire to expand my education in some way. The dream will hold other clues to help me decipher the exact message.

Of course dreams can be crucial in helping us come to grips with our sexual orientation if we are not living true to nature in conscious life. It’s just that, since dreams communicate on a symbolic level, a message about unrealized sexual preference probably wouldn’t be conveyed in such a literal way. 

When I say intercourse dreams attempt to help us integrate or unite disparate aspects of ourselves, I don’t mean the psyche is trying to tell us that we have to adopt the sex partner’s characteristics.  What if we have a sex dream that is very unpleasant or even terrifying? What if I’m being raped in my dream or I’m a rapist? Then we need to take a look at what part of psyche is being abused or is abusive to some other part of the psyche. A rape scene may represent an internal power struggle against different characteristics or standpoints within our own minds.

The dream does not tell us which is the right or wrong conscious attitude to take. It simply presents the psychic situation. Free will still reigns. But we do have to be aware that our dream lover’s characteristics lie within us. We have to try our best to know ALL of who we are if we’re going to come anywhere close to being a consciously whole human being.

Many months ago, I had a dream that I was making love to a Rastafari man.  He was extremely handsome and I desired him deeply. Our lovemaking was beautiful and moving. Now, I know very little about Rastafari, almost nothing. My associations were that Rastafaris are free spirited and not tied to Western convention.  This man was peaceful and was not at all committed to the “rat race.”  So, knowing how satisfying it was for me to unite with these Rastafari characteristics within me, does that mean I should stop working and use cannabis as a path toward spiritual enlightenment?  Maybe, maybe not. I do know it’s my psychic duty to accept that his way of being is within me, but I still have to decide which parts of him, if any, I’ll choose to incorporate into my waking life.

– Writeye

February 8th, 2009 | Tags: sex in dreams symbolism | Category: Dreams, Jungian Psychology |  Print This Post |  Email This Post | Leave a comment