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| Autumn in Taos Ski Valley Canyon |
It has now been two weeks plus since the Grof Holotropic
Module on Jung’s Red Book. This is the first workshop I’ve indulged in since the
writing workshop (I think that’s what it was, memory is faded) I attended about
15 years ago. Interestingly, the Taos Ski Valley was the location for both of
these events. This one hosted by the
Columbine Conference Center, but next door to Austinghouse the location of that
earlier workshop. However, we took our meals at the Austinghouse dining room,
not a particularly interesting coincidence in itself, but personally
meaningful. The need to be there was about an instinct to loop back and pick up
some lost pieces of self that I’m going to be needing; well, maybe not lost but
placed in storage long ago and almost forgotten.
To compare life to a house with many rooms, I am on the
threshold of an unused room on a different floor. Of course, I want to furnish
it with appropriate furniture. Stepping through an unfamiliar doorway whether
in time or space is a mixed experience as there is doubt about leaving the old,
uncertainty about the unknown and apprehension mixed with excitement.
It has taken these two weeks to get some perspective on the
workshop experience. Getting up in semi darkness, hitting the road as the sharp
air and early light enhanced the spectacularly golding foliage on the drive through
Taos, past Arroyo Seco and up the canyon, to arrive each morning in an altered
state. In this semi-conscious condition
came the encounter each morning at 9:00 am with words, ideas, and fellow
seekers from diverse realities.
My Gemini self slurped up Monika Wikman’s insightful and
inspiring introduction to Jung’s Red Book, with the enthusiasm of a starved cat
on Tuna. The breathwork, which was the foundational work of the module was good
and I reoriented many core issues, but it wasn’t the full diet for a hungry
soul. In the process, I was reminded
that I need regular contact with fellow seekers and practitioners and although
I do not yet know how to bring that about, I’m increasingly aware of the
limitations of living in a small third world country like Taos.
This was the first time in three years that PQ and I have
been apart for more than a few hours. He did fine on his own, even though we
were also coping with the recent death of our truck and he had to deal with the
insurance company and various other technicalities that we usually handle
together yet he faithfully drove me up the canyon every morning and back home every
evening in our one vehicle. Each day was
unique in the wild animals encountered on the way and the constantly changing
autumn foliage. This drive was itself a powerful ritual that brought a new
piece into our relationship, and synchronistically enhanced the workshop.
Being in my old hero Carl Jung’s company again was
inspiration for renewing my quest for a navigable path along the border between
modern and indigenous psychic territories. Jung’s use of Alchemical symbols and dreams rekindled
my desire to translate the thought forms of native medicine and vice versa. Jung used persecuted philosophies and techniques
disrespected by both the church and the current beliefs of scientific
materialism to heal modern people whose souls were unfulfilled within the psychic
vacuum of our modern world. Many people are suffering from the loss of
connection with their roots, as well as with the planet that hosts them and all
the natural processes they share with their fellow beings on Mother Earth. However,
Indigenous people often have malnourished souls due to the suppression and
oppression of their ancestral connections, but I don’t think Jung’s alchemy would
work for them directly without cultural translation, and I know of no one who
has attempted to do this. Jung was an
inspired and powerful medicine man but his language and images are of arcane
European derivation. I went to the
workshop in hope of reigniting the pilot light under the vision that originally
brought me to New Mexico. Experience
tells me that after descending into the basement world of the unconscious, the
experience of this workshop will continue to rearrange the furniture in my
personal psychic basement, but I’m really waiting for a light that will reveal the
stairway leading to the top floor.
Now I’m back in my Taos world, drinking coffee with PQ on
the patio each morning, eking the last bit of fall beauty from the too fast
approach of winter. Each morning the
plants around us lose a bit more of their color as they withdraw for
winter. The vultures have gone south and
hawks have taken their place. Coyotes
yip and howl a bit closer each night.
Just before the workshop, our new animal friend suddenly reappeared. The
white kitten came through the latia fence for a visit. He now wears a collar
with his name and phone number on it. He is obviously well cared for but still visits
each morning. Yesterday his ginger tabby friend came with him, and we watched
them stalking imaginary prey and chasing each other up and down the cottonwood
tree. Isn’t play the way cats learn to
catch their prey? Perhaps the white cat is a new teacher for the White Deer.
Both animals are unable to hide in the normal way of their species due to their
neutral but stand out lack of color yet one is predator the other prey.
Yesterday PQ and I took a drive, which I’ve discovered is
always a good time to talk about the things that everyday life obscures. For the first time I shared some of these
thoughts with him and it helped me to be clearer about what the workshop
brought to my attention. Now, alchemical
transformation, synchronicity, playful practice of hunting techniques and my personal
relationship with the essence of the indigenous world are all tumbling around
in my psychic innards and it’s a process that my conscious ego self has little
control over. I feel that I’ve taken on
more than my little self can digest and now I have to rely on my guiding
spirits. Everything is to be continued.
