This morning a cloud has cleared, and I feel the peace and quiet and drawing-in of the solstice, and the opening from the longest night, and sense of Yuletide: primitive and in my own (re)treat.
Yesterday I found this drawing I attempted and discarded about 18 months ago, after I “caught sight in my mind” of a childhood Queen, looking out to sea. It is more expressive than I thought. The vision happened, just before I discovered and recognised the “original” in my old drawing books from when I was seven. I shall write more of this, in my next post.
I bought a book the other day, The Radiant Child. It is by Thomas Armstrong, and was published in 1985 by Quest. It offers a psychological insight into the hidden face of childhood. I suppose that since it was written, the constraints around child psychology have loosened, and admit far more, the “descent of the Spirit” which is transpersonal – it seeks out the receptive personal nature for it. In many young children the faculty is not encouraged or developed enough, but for some it is – and who knows what psychologists know about children anyway? or think they know? Much of our linear education obliterates it. The proof of the pudding is inside the child’s world … inside mine, for reference.
I feel I can contribute, having been enabled to keep a record of my early years. It is a useful angle on spiritual evolution, and is the reason I upload my childhood working process here.
The Radiant Child gives a good layman’s introduction to the esoteric perspective, and speaks significantly of the Four Worlds common to all traditions and cultures. Everything it proposes is in my recorded experience and development.
The Transpersonal Spirit encircles childhood – the little bud – and enters it sometimes like a sperm. The Transpersonal Spirit is timeless. It seems plain, from my mother’s letters at the time, that it came to me in infancy: and the pressure of the artist from five onwards, tells the rest. Whether or not I knew the Self, I don’t know; but some deltas from the human genius as a whole, engaged with my atoms for sure: the passion, the commitment, the concentration. Some of my early non-verbal childhood sensations suggest its movement, or its withdrawal. (See my earlier posts on Childhood, parts 1, 2, 3.)
In adult years, I grasped with intellectual ease, the fourth dimension, and whence all spiritual traditions derive, and aim towards. This theme pervades my life of time and space and enclosures, and is not any of them. A friend of mine knows and says that all comes forth from and returns to Allah in the Great Sphere.
In a world whose children are crushed and maimed with war, neglect and abuse, I feel it is essential to keep the lamp which values childhood alight, wherever we can. For this special awareness, mostly unknown to us as we become lettered and fettered with belief, is unbound – boundless, and – like our sexuality – the secret core and contagion of our human sense of being.
From my early years, my windows were made to stay porous : osmosis two ways. Yet I am not “sensitized” in the way many contemporary kundalini awakenings are. I suppose I am at ease with the condition, because the artist’s way, the poet’s way was and is its conduit through myself.
The passion and the commitment entered my Liverpool sketchbooks in its own way, at 19/20 years old, and abandoned Liverpool when it had absorbed and recorded enough there.
My archive keeping honours the Spirit. I don’t attend a ceremony for solstice: yet every single morning of the year I do a ceremony; I light candles, invoke the Kabbalist Tree of Life, open my laptop, and I write. Thus we greet the Solstice of each day, and awaken the Christ Child; the eternal child of Christmas. He was not historically born at xmas, but the seed of the Light is where the night is long and dark, ever since we struck spark from stones and lit our fires in caves near the river. The virgin – she who is ripe – carries him in her womb.
The embryo gender before it begins to differentiate, is feminine … the mater, la mer, the sea. Full humanas continues to be carried in the womb, closely furled.
Visible humanity today is a process incomplete, with a long way to go. There are cyclic golden ages past, and yet to come; the same within us individually, as collectively. Awakening into humanas is potential everywhere, and in places visible as Consciousness; it is possible that our dark, separative tantrum-toddler forces pollute and extinguish the presentation of it, on our beautiful Earth. Consciousness however, prevails unaltered. Higher human consciousness and compassion is none other than cosmic Consciousness … through galactic dark matter which is thought. It is berthed and earthed wherever there is gravity, in innumerable forms. I have a sense here, through a glass darkly, of the Reality of the upper astral plane we essentially co-create, and the mental plane: illumined landscapes and the temples of Eternity.
Towards this fact, certain pretty ideas of new age channelers about Earth’s ascension – about the good people rising up and all the nasty people dropping away – they almost reach the mark, but are groping and too literal. So what’s new? In most regions, the available human intelligence is somewhat fundamentalist and limited.
But come home here to hear your intimate thought and feeling process. What ascends into the bright sky in this moment? What obscurity drops away? What is letting go and letting god? What resists, and goes on replaying the movie? It starts at home. Solstice!
So now, on to Jung … for I begin now, to journey with his Red Book, a little at a time.
Jung started by visualizing himself digging a hole. But he had already studied trance, automatic writing and Loyola’s and Swedenborg’s spiritual exercises, and he corresponded with Silberer who experimented with allowing images to appear. Self-experimenters were active in that period before the War broke out. A colleague called Straudenmaier coined a phrase Unterbewusstsein – Under-consciousness … the same word as my “Underbeing!”
Deliberately evoke a fantasy in a waking state, then enter into it as into a drama. Jung wrote down his mythological journeys in the black books – “the book of my most difficult experiment” (December 1913 – 100 years ago.) Jung “emptied his conscious mind” so as to allow psychic contents to appear spontaneously.
In a way I do the same. My writing empties mind of what is floating around or concerning me; then the Underbeing comes up – the deep advisor, or poet. Each morning when I write, there are at least a few moments of tumbling back into silence and the slow deep river: the well. I feel it in my back.
When Jung was up against the wall which was Freud, something in him said “it is not so”. After two years of active imagination/symbolic thinking, so many ideas rushed in on him that … he appealed to his hands, and began to carve wood. Philemon first appeared in a dream, in 1913 or early 1914. Jung painted him from this kingfisher coloured dream: the sky appeared through mud – he found a dead kingfisher in his garden, very rare. Philemon was at first Elijah, then he became an Egypto-Hellenic Gnostic pagan. “He represented superior insight.” In April 1914, Jung resigned from his academic posts.
The wall is there to drive one back into Reality. Jung would converse with Philemon his guru, in the garden. It is like the dream conversation I had with Jung in a garden. Philemon had four keys. In my dream there were four drawings, images I had made, arranged in a square, like a window. I showed him them. One of them was the sketch of Jung at Bollingen which he “asked me for a copy of”, and which I drew shortly afterward. I did not recall the others.
The Godcosm … these things, and where they beckon … is deeply reflective.
I would like to be more investigative. Work objectively with my One who represents superior insight. WORK WITH YOU.
During his early investigations (conducted in the evenings), Jung partitioned his activities. His family, his profession and his military service, kept him earthed in the human Assiyah.
(This is continued through the posts which follow, and also in Aquariel – Mandala, Abraxas and the Angel)
My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.
This blog is a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.
All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2013. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/