Matrignosis: A Blog About Inner Wisdom

Think Pyschologically; Live Spiritually

Ruling the Inner Chamber August 19, 2014

Dreamwork has been my most rewarding and consistent spiritual practice for 25 years. You might not think of dreams as having anything to do with spirituality but they absolutely do. Carl Jung demonstrated this with exquisite beauty in his recently published The Red Book in which he recorded some of his most meaningful waking and sleeping dreams. Everything he did for the rest of his brilliant and productive life was based on the findings he recorded in that book, which represents three years of committed inner work. Ultimately, his conclusion about the value of this work was that to become who we truly are is our spiritual task and the privilege of a lifetime.

Jung is not the first person to understand this, although he was one of the first Western medical professionals to study it for himself and write about it in a way that could be comprehended and accepted by the Western scientific mind. Indeed, many Asian traditions have taught this concept for thousands of years. Consider this quote by the Hindu professor Ravi Ravindra:

“The struggle to know who I am, in truth and in spirit, is the spiritual quest. The movement in myself from the mask to the face, from the personality to the person, from the performing actor to the ruler of the inner chamber, is the spiritual journey. To live, work, and suffer on this shore in faithfulness to the whispers from the other shore is spiritual life. To keep the flame of spiritual yearning alive is to be radically open to the present and to refuse to settle for comforting religious dogma, philosophic certainties, and social sanctions.”

Contrary to popular belief, authentic spirituality is not just a function of how many souls we save or how well we know scriptures or how hard we pray or how many rules we keep or what we believe or how often we attend our place of worship or how much money we donate to the poor. Likewise, spiritual maturity is not limited to a particular religion or set of beliefs. Rather, it is a function of our ego’s willingness to further the unfolding of our capacity for full living, endless loving, and authentic being.

We’re supposed to discover our true selves and connect with the sacred Mystery within. We’re supposed to learn how to accept and love ourselves because that’s how we learn to accept and love others. Every religion has spawned mature spirit persons whose mystical experiences and intuitions taught them that God indwells the soul. This means that our spiritual growth is not just a function of searching for God outside ourselves but also of honoring the “kingdom” within. (I could just as well have said “queendom” but it wouldn’t resonate as deeply as this more familiar term for sovereignty. I wish there were a gender-neutral word for the inner chamber that is not one-sidedly masculine, but ruled by both the King and Queen archetypes. Any ideas?)

Here’s what St. Teresa of Avila had to say about this realm:

“There is a secret place. A radiant sanctuary. As real as your own kitchen. More real than that. Constructed of the purest elements. Overflowing with the ten thousand beautiful things. Worlds within worlds. Forests, rivers. Velvet coverlets thrown over featherbeds, fountains bubbling beneath a canopy of stars. Bountiful forests, universal libraries. A wine cellar offering an intoxication so sweet you will never be sober again. A clarity so complete you will never again forget.

This magnificent refuge is inside you. Enter. Shatter the darkness that shrouds the doorway…

No one else controls access to this perfect place. Give yourself your own unconditional permission to go there. … Believe the incredible truth that the Beloved has chosen for his dwelling place the core of your own being because that is the single most beautiful place in all of creation. Waste no time. Enter the centre of your soul.”

– Saint Teresa of Avila, “The Interior Castle”, translated by Mirabai Starr

The search for self-knowledge is a path to spiritual maturity and dreams are invaluable tools on that path because they show us unsuspected aspects of our unconscious selves. With every insight we gain, the closer we move to connecting with our sacred core, finding personal meaning, and fulfilling the purpose of our unique life.

What did you dream last night?

Ebook versions of The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon, Kobo, Barnes and Noble and Smashwords.  Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc.

 

Is Your God-Image Dysfunctional? August 14, 2012

Religious beliefs are so deeply personal and emotional that it’s taken me a very long time to be comfortable opening up about my own. Not wanting to offend or challenge anyone’s faith, I’ve preferred to focus on psychological issues. Yet, of all the topics I write about in this blog, my posts about religion seem to elicit the most interest and affirming comments.

I noticed this again at my first book-signing for “Healing the Sacred Divide” last weekend. Every time I looked up from reading a little story about a major awakening I experienced at the age of eleven, I saw people nodding and smiling in recognition. The story is about my parents advising me to tone down my show-offy behavior at a motel swimming pool lest I make the other children feel badly. There was a little girl out there who was having trouble keeping up with the rest of us, my father said.  I should notice, her, think about her feelings, try to include her and make her feel better about herself.

This was a crucial moment in my development.  Overcome with self-consciousness, I realized for the first time that people were not only watching, but critiquing me, possibly even feeling badly about themselves because of me. So I walked up to the little girl in the faded brown bathing suit and tentatively lied, “I like your bathing suit.” While she happily bounced away to jump off the diving board, I sat quietly in the nearest chair pondering my new knowledge. I was capable of hurting people without intending to, just by having fun and being me! Suddenly the world was filled with eyes, and I knew that all of them, including God’s were watching me.

After that I no longer associated God with the warm, happy feelings I experienced when I mastered new skills or explored the wonders of nature. God became a collection of ideas about the kind of behavior expected by an aloof, separate, powerful, all-seeing, overtly beneficent but secretly critical, gender-biased, judgmental King. If I worked very hard to please him by obeying his rules and making nice and attending church regularly I might receive his approval, protection, and salvation. If I didn’t, I’d be notified and punished. He called the shots and that’s how it was. That was fine with me. After all, he was the King of Heaven!

This is a childish, Santa Clausy image of God. Typical in the early stages of ego-development, it’s based on a child’s normal fears, vulnerability, and desire to please. My religious thinking changed considerably in the coming years, but beneath it the same childish emotional reality—the same unconscious needy attachment to the norms of my family—lived deep within me like an insecure orphan who’s afraid to leave the safety of her dark little attic room.

Instead of enabling me to let “this little light of mine” shine, as the song I learned at Vacation Bible School said I should, this God-image encouraged me to wear a rigid, carefully constructed mask that nearly smothered it. What saved it was learning that, as Ravi Ravindra wrote, “the struggle to know who I am…is the spiritual quest.” And that “To keep the flame of spiritual yearning alive is to be radically open to the present and to refuse to settle for comforting religious dogma, philosophic certainties, and social sanctions.”

The interest in my writing and talks about religious matters convinces me I haven’t been alone in my struggle to grow past this dysfunctional God-image. It’s been slow going, but self-knowledge is healing my long and painful separation from the Mystery. What’s your story?

Healing the Sacred Divide can be purchased at www.larsonpublications.com or at my Amazon Author’s Page.

 

Ruling the Inner Chamber April 10, 2010

Dreamwork has been my most rewarding and consistent spiritual practice for 22 years. You might not think of dreams as having anything to do with spirituality but they absolutely do. Carl Jung demonstrated this with exquisite beauty in his recently published The Red Book in which he recorded some of his most meaningful waking and sleeping dreams. Everything he did for the rest of his brilliant and productive life was based on the findings he recorded in that book, which represents three years of committed inner work. Ultimately, his conclusion about the value of this work was that to become who we truly are is our spiritual task and the privilege of a lifetime.

Jung is not the first person to understand this, although he was one of the first Western medical professionals to study it for himself and write about it in a way that could be comprehended and accepted by the Western scientific mind. Indeed, many Asian traditions have taught this concept for thousands of years. Consider this quote by the Hindu professor Ravi Ravindra:

“The struggle to know who I am, in truth and in spirit, is the spiritual quest. The movement in myself from the mask to the face, from the personality to the person, from the performing actor to the ruler of the inner chamber, is the spiritual journey. To live, work, and suffer on this shore in faithfulness to the whispers from the other shore is spiritual life. To keep the flame of spiritual yearning alive is to be radically open to the present and to refuse to settle for comforting religious dogma, philosophic certainties, and social sanctions.”

Contrary to popular belief, authentic spirituality is not just a function of how many souls we save or how well we know scriptures or how hard we pray or how many rules we keep or what we believe or how often we attend our place of worship or how much money we donate to the poor. Likewise, spiritual maturity is not limited to a particular religion or set of beliefs. Rather, it is a function of our ego’s willingness to further the unfolding of our capacity for full living, endless loving, and authentic being.

We’re supposed to discover our true selves and connect with the sacred Mystery within. We’re supposed to learn how to accept and love ourselves because that’s how we learn to accept and love others. Every religion has spawned mature spirit persons whose mystical experiences and intuitions taught them that God indwells the soul. This means that our spiritual growth is not just a function of searching for God outside ourselves but also of honoring the “kingdom” within. (I could just as well have said “queendom” but it wouldn’t resonate as deeply as this more familiar term for sovereignty. I wish there were a gender-neutral word for the inner chamber that is not one-sidedly masculine, but ruled by both the King and Queen archetypes. Any ideas?)

The search for self-knowledge is a path to spiritual maturity and dreams are invaluable tools on that path because they show us unsuspected aspects of our unconscious selves. With every insight we gain, the closer we move to connecting with our sacred core, finding personal meaning, and fulfilling the purpose of our unique life.

What did you dream last night?

 

 
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