finding a “lower, deeper power” for women in recovery
TRANSCRIPT
Finding a “Lower, Deeper Power” For Women in Recovery
Psalm 42, verse 1
As a doe longs for running streams, so longs my soul for you, my God.
My soul thirsts for God, the God of my life, where shall I go to see the face of
God?
First Commandment
I am thy Lord thy God and thou shalt have no gods before me.
Introduction
In downtown Chicago there is a marvelous building
called The Board of Trade Building. It is here that grain
and wheat are traded as commodities. Atop the building is a
beautiful art deco statue of Ceres, the Roman goddess of
agriculture. It is from her we get the name for cereal.
Notice and wheat and grain in her hands. The Greeks had the
same goddess image, but they called her Demeter. She’s my
patron saint. I prefer to use the Greek name Demeter
because somehow the name Demeter sounds to me like “da
mutter.” So here in Chicago we have da cubs, da bears, and
da mudder. At any rate, when the construction people placed
Demeter at the top of this building in the 1930s she could
be admired from afar but no one could see that she had no
face, that is until recently when taller office buildings
began to be constructed around the Board of Trade.
Contemporary employees, while looking out from their windows
exclaimed, “She has no face!” Indeed, she is senseless.
She has no ears, no nose, no eyes and no mouth. I wondered
if this statue might be a metaphor for modern women’s lack
of connection with a feminine Divine? I asked myself, “When
the importance of the goddess vanished and patriarchy took
over church and government, did women lose their voices?”
Have we women and men lost our own sense of the divine
feminine power and have we bought into a myopic, singular,
male power? Just a question I asked myself.
Recovery/Discovery
In a sense all of us are daily in a stage of recovery
because of some conflict in our lives. Because we are
human we have human foibles. We may drink too much, we may
experience bad relations, we lose jobs, we have bad health,
we have eating disorders, our foibles are often innumerable,
and most of us don’t even want to visit them.
In recovery programs of all stripes, people are
encouraged to find a Higher Power. (Personally, I am not
fond of the word “recovery.” I prefer the word “discovery,”
because anyone who has gone through the pain of coming back
from a bad experience has discovered something about
themselves. To recover makes me think of covering over
again. RE-COVER. Discoverers, on the other hand, uncover
things; we learn things about ourselves when we are in
discovery.)
Alcoholics Anonymous: An Example of the Absence of the
Feminine
Both my spouse Tom Lavin and I are Clinical
Psychologists. Tom is a Jungian Analyst as well and he was
called upon several years ago to give the keynote talk at a
conference on Alcoholism at the New York Open Center. I sat
in the audience of counselors and therapists, mostly women,
listening to the presentations from an all-male panel
describing the heroic journeys of recovering alcoholics.
The analogous heroic journeys were those of Christ, Buddha,
Moses, Icarus, King Arthur, and others. The journeys of
Moses, Christ, Odysseus, Icarus, Parsifal, and all the other
male mythological figures are marvelous examples of heroism,
but what of the heroic feminine journey? Christ and Moses
went up the mountain; Icarus flew high up in the sky. Going
up is a male image or motif. I thought to myself, “These
speakers are talking about journeys in life but they are
describing journeying through a male prism.” My question at
the time was, “Don’t women journey? Where are the stories
about women’s journeys? Though women psychically
accommodate to these male images and the lessons imparted,
they often are left unmoved and unable to relate to these
images as part of their unique heroic/recovery journeys.
A New Vision for the Next Millennium
After the alcohol conference in New York I returned
home feeling pulled to understand feminine spiritual
direction. I wondered, “Were there stories that depicted
feminine heroism and did the feminine journey in another
direction?” I am reminded of Matthew Arnold’s poem,
“Stanzas From ‘The Grand Chartreuse,’” in which he wrote:
Wandering between two worlds, one dead,
The other powerless to be born,
With nowhere yet to rest my head,
Like these, on earth I wait forlorn (Arnold, 1961,
p. 187).
Arnold wrote these words around the same time that
Nietzsche was grappling with the idea that God was dead.
Both Arnold and Nietzsche longed for a new vision of the
Divine. The God, as they experienced him, was no longer
relevant.
As we enter this new millennium we need to be open and
nonjudgemental to new possibilities of envisioning the
Divine. For centuries women have adapted, accommodated, and
adjusted to directions handed down from a more patriarchal
society. Women should be free to accept this more male
image if they so like, but they should also be free to
develop images and directives of their own if they are not
comfortable with the generally prescribed direction.
Otherwise, we are caught in that awful curse called
Fundamentalism.
Please understand, I am not dismissing the imagery of
recovery programs. I am simply suggesting that women may
need other images to rely on. A “higher power” may not
necessarily be relevant to the feminine way of recovery.
Some women may find descending to align with a “lower,
deeper power” more relevant.
Jung and the Development of AA
Since the 1940s, through the implementation of the
12 steps, Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) has helped many
recovering persons remain sober and find peace by
encouraging them to connect with a “higher power.” The use
of the 12 steps has branched out and become useful in many
forms of recovery other than just alcohol. The difficulty,
as I see it, is that AA is a predominantly male-oriented
path to recovery. The tenets of AA are stereotypically
geared toward the way men recover. And that is, no doubt,
because AA was originally developed by Bill Wilson and Dr.
Bob Smith, both men. You can read all about the history of
Roland H,. Dr. Bob, and Bill W. in a book by Ernest Kurtz
entitled Not God: A History of Alcoholics Anonymous. There
were no women in the embryonic stages of AA during the
1930s. Nor were there any women in the Oxford Movement in
England. So the language and ideas and approach to recovery
are, by nature, masculine. It could not be anything else.
To get an idea of where the concept of a “High Power”
came from let me quickly tell you a story. Roland H., a
wealthy businessman from Vermont, who survived the economic
depression, worked with Jung in analysis in Zurich. A year
after he returned to the United States, Roland relapsed. He
is reported to have visited Jung once again in Zurich to go
back into analysis. Jung was very forthright with Roland H.
and told him that he could do nothing for him. Jung
suggested that if he found a group with a spiritual basis,
he might find some way of avoiding the desire to drink.
Jung had no scientific theories about alcohol or recovery.
However, many of you may know that Carl G. Jung was
pivotal in the development of AA. He worked therapeutically
with Roland H. and later corresponded with Bill Wilson, the
founder of AA. It was Jung’s theory that when we lose our
Spirit (uppercase S), we may turn to spirits (lower case s).
Jung used the Latin phrase Spiritus Contra Spiritum to explain
what he thought about addiction. The English translation is:
The spirits against the Spirit. Spirits, with a lower case
“s” meaning a mind-altering substance; and Spirit with an
upper case “S” meaning inner force or inner Divine. When we
lose interest or inspiration in life we may turn to mind-
altering substances or ways of behaving to alleviate the
pain or loss, but the use of spirits can be
counterproductive. There are many addictions both
substantive and behavioral such as shopping, sex, eating,
and overworking. All of these, if used to excess or used
inappropriately, can initially ease pain or loss; they can
give a “high” at first, but in the end there is the let
down. As most of you know, people who have a drink when
they want a “pick me up,” are actually choosing the wrong
substance, because alcohol in reality, is a depressant.
In her book Witness to the fire: Creativity and the
veil of addiction Jungian analyst and writer Linda Leonard
took the word addiction apart. She wrote that the
etymology of the word addiction comes from the Latin addicere.
Dicere means “word.” We hear it in predict, dictate, dictionary. The
Romans called their slaves addictus meaning: “one who has no
voice; no vote.” An addict has indeed given over their
voting voice to a substance or a way of behavior. The
addict is a slave. He or she is not in charge; it is the
substance or way of being that has the power over the
person. This is perhaps the reason why AA encourages people
in recovery to find a “higher power” a real Pick Me Up.
No Second Hand Gods
You received a poignant article in your handouts. It
is from Grapevine magazine (February 1996). It was
anonymously written by a woman who experienced negativity
when she expressed a desire to go in a direction other than
the one prescribed by AA. She was searching for a “lower
power.” It shows how one woman experienced her own image
of power for her journey toward sobriety and that the image
was not necessarily consistent with the conventional “higher
power.” She met with harshness but weathered the
experience. It is a story about the one-sidedness of an
organization, perhaps even an example of the one-sidedness
of organized religion today. The article is an outcry
against fundamentalist thinking. Permission to publish this
article was obtained from Grapevine magazine.
“No Secondhand Gods”
I came to Alcoholics Anonymous beaten by gin and
depression, barely clinging to a thin and unhappy belief in
God and trying desperately to talk myself back into my
childhood faith. It wasn’t working.
I was an ex-nun whose faith had fallen apart in the
convent - partly because the order’s strict policy on
alcohol had prevented me, for the first sustained period in
my adult life, from drinking away troublesome doubts and
questions.
The first thing AA people told me about spirituality
stopped me cold: they told me if I wanted to live, I needed
an honest relationship with an honestly envisioned Higher
Power. Ill-fitting secondhand Gods need not apply. I found
this both liberating and terrifying. Terrifying because I’d
been taught to hang onto my religion like grim death whether
I felt honest doing it or not; liberating once I discovered
I was genuinely more afraid of drinking again than of going
to hell for unbelief.
The ensuing few years were an incredible revelation.
My sponsor has an interest in comparative religion, and some
of her books introduced me to a marvelous new faith, one
that made me exclaim, “So that’s what I’ve been all my
life!” I became a practitioner and eventually a clergywoman
of this faith, and it has given me the sort of relationship
with my Deeper (for me, a better term than Higher) Power I
could only have dreamed of.
Nevertheless, I have a solid granite derriere on the
subject of keeping religion per se out of Alcoholics
Anonymous. So I’ve never gone to meetings and tried to
preach my religion to anyone. I’ve seen the damage that can
do to groups and the confusion and pain it can cause
newcomers.
But I do try to be honest about my Deeper Power, and it
isn’t easy. You see, I envision that Power as female, and I
call her Goddess, not God. And in some AA meetings, you’d
think I’d thrown a stinkbomb into the circle every time I
refer to my Deeper Power in this way.
I was careful where I began saying it. For the most
part, my home group didn’t mind the new phrasing, so I tried
it out at another meeting where I’d heard various people’s
Powers referred to as God, Allah, the Tao, the Great Maybe,
and Eddie. All had gotten reasonable respect, even Eddie,
so I was totally unprepared for the roar of derisive
laughter that greeted me when I spoke one evening of “the
Goddess as I understand Her.”
I was thunderstruck, and tears came to my eyes. “I
nearly died trying to find a Power I could believe in,” I
told them. “I would never laugh at yours; please don’t
laugh at mine.”
I tried it again at other meetings. At about a third
of the meetings, I got either ridicule or after-meeting
conversation pitches. I wondered if it was just my area
that was unusually closed to the idea, until I began hearing
stories from other women of my faith on the Internet. All
confirmed my impression that female deity-language is the
one kind that routinely elicits laughter or hostility
(“You’ll go to hell for that New Age stuff, you know!”) at
AA meetings.
For awhile, I tried dancing around the issue with terms
like “the Creator” and “the Divine.” I didn’t wear my
religion’s symbol around my neck at meetings, even though
some Christians and Jews often wore theirs. Eventually, I
stopped dancing; that’s one tango not required of the more
“mainstream” believers in our ranks, and I truly don’t
understand why it should be required of anyone.
I’ve watched for years now as this problem has driven
desperately ill newcomers away from the program. They have
had to fight the prevailing society so hard for a faith that
fits, and it is so hard for them to face being laughed at or
scorned for it in what is supposed to be a place of safety
when they’re barely out of detox.
Please, next time you’re tempted to have a contemptuous
(and audible) reaction to somebody else’s deity, think: if
it’s what’s keeping her alive, do you really want to knock
it down?
Anonymous, Kentucky (Grapevine, February 1996, pp. 14-15)
BREAK
Let us move on to:
Understanding the Direction of the Feminine Through Story
Great art and great literature are often based on
ancient myths and stories. “Myths . . . portray a
collective image; they tell us about things that are true
for all people.” Stories can work at an individual level,
or they can be part of the collective understanding.
Stories help us to understand and they touch us subtly. By
hearing a story we can draw conclusions, we can see
parallels in our lives, and we can compare. By listening
to stories we thread together legends and mysteries that
help us to understand our past, our present, and our future.
Stories help us to cope and to relate to a particular
mystery in our lives. It’s the stories told and heard at AA
meetings and other recovery meetings that make the programs
work. When a patient I am working with says he or she does
not like to go to meetings, I insist they continue going -
not to talk, just to listen to the stories - to be reminded
of what others before them have gone through. It’s the
stories that heal.
The Greeks and Romans were masters at creating
stories. They had no grasp or understanding of science so
they supplemented explanations for natural or relational
phenomenon with stories using Gods and Goddesses as the main
characters. If someone asked, “What is that noise in the
sky during a rainstorm?” they’d probably respond, “Oh,
that’s just Zeus throwing his thunderbolts in anger.” There
were no scientific explanations; just stories. They used
stories and myths to explain the complications and natural
phenomenon of everyday living such as weather, loving,
hating, warring. You name it, the Greeks and Romans had a
story for it. If you pay attention to the unfolding story
of Jessica Lynch’s experience, you can see why this touches
the archetypal core of the American public. Even her
homecoming was touching, and it was orchestrated to be that
way. She carries the archetype of the wounded hero in
feminine form. Notice she is always shown in uniform, never
in her drab hospital gear. Today we might call what we read
in the newspapers, and hear on the news SPIN, well things
haven’t changed much since the Romans and Greeks. The
Greeks and Romans did pretty much the same thing. They told
stories to explain a phenomenon. They too were spinners.
My Search for Feminine Heroic Stories
In my search for heroic feminine stories of
journeying, I found many myths that depicted the feminine
direction of the search for meaning to be that of going to a
deeper power found in the underworld experience. I found
that no stories depicted women traveling upward - except in
the patriarchal Roman Catholic story about the Blessed
Mother. Mary is said to be the mother of Jesus, and at her
death she is depicted as being assumed up into heaven. She
did not go there searching for pain relief. She was simply
taken up. She did not go up on her own power; she was
assumed into heaven by divine power.
What I want you to notice in the stories we will hear
today is that all of the women who go to the underworld are
accompanied by someone or something else. They do not go to
the underworld alone. They are in a relationship! This is
very important to what I am trying to say today, because
Carol Gilligan and her colleagues at the Stone Center in
Philadelphia did much research on young women and how they
express themselves. The researchers found that young girls
are always in relationships. A young woman’s self-esteem,
her idea of herself, depends upon her relationships and how
she relates. The stories I am going to tell today, validate
Carol Gilligan’s research. Women are relational! Women are
sustained by their relationships with others. For those of
you who are interested, you can find Gilligan’s marvelous
research explained in her popular book In a Different Voice.
In the handout/explanation for this program, I had
mentioned that I would talk about four myths, but we don’t
have that much time today, so I have dropped the myth of
Eurydices because in reality it is the story of Orpheus who
goes to the underworld in search of his beloved Eurydices.
As you know, there are also several wonderful stories
of men going to the underworld. We find the male theme of
descent into the underworld (and the return) occurring in
the epic of Gilgamesh, in Virgil’s Aeneid, and in Dante’s
Divine Comedy, however, going to the underworld is not the
commonly accepted direction of the hero’s journey. Men are
usually depicted as going up. Climbing a mountain is one of
the usual archetypal motifs. The Christian Passion includes
Christ climbing Calvary, and the laws were given to Moses
after he had climbed Mount Sinai. The top of the mountain
is a place of revelation, a place where one is closer to
the gods and can see more. My goal today is to try to
incorporate three ancient stories from mythology that depict
the feminine journey of going to the underworld with the
hope that these stories of feminine journeys will give us an
archetypal basis for a more feminine heroic connection with
the Divine at a deeper level. It would be interesting to
speak with Jessica Lynch today and have her tell her stories
of depression; about how important her relationships are to
her to carry her through her underground experiences.
Our first story is the ancient myth of Inanna found
etched on a slab excavated in the 1920’s in ruins near
Turkey and Sumeria, the area we refer to as Mesopotamia or
more recently Iraq. It is located near the Tigris and
Euphrates Rivers. It is from this same location that the
wonderful Gilgamesh epic was uncovered - also a wonderful
story of going to the underworld, but the Gilgamesh epic is
a male’s journey.
The next two myths we will discuss are probably more
familiar to you. They the stories of Persephone and Psyche.
It is from Psyche that we get our word for Psychology.
Psyche was Eros’ anima or soulmate. If you take the word
apart - psyche means soul and ology means “study of.”
Therefore Psychology is “the study of soul.”
Although the Greeks and the Romans had similar stories,
I have chosen the Greek version of these myths. The
archetype is the same whether told as a Greek myth or told
as a Roman myth.
The Underworld Journey
In ancient times, stories of journeys to the underworld
were common. The underworld was not necessarily a place for
the dead. It was not hell, as we know it in our culture
today. Rather it was a laboratory, a place of learning, a
cauldron for rebirth. Rather than fearing the darkness,
ancient people held a profound respect and appreciation for
its primal importance. They wisely understood that without
the dark watery uterus of a woman’s body, an embryo could
not develop. They understood that a seed could not
germinate in the soil; a compost pile could not recreate
itself into fertile soil. Staying for a long time in a
dark, damp environment provides a place for early growth.
The underworld supplied this place in the imaginations of
the ancients. Going to the underworld was an important part
of life. Today we try to avoid pain. We have pills and
spas all decked out for painkilling. Staying with the pain
often times educates a person about themselves and who they
really, really are. Pain is not easy but it is an
education. Think about the personal pain you have
experienced and what you learned from it and what you
learned about yourself?
Inanna
The descent into the underworld is a letting go of
upperworld concerns. Nowhere is this more clear than in one
of the world’s oldest surviving myths, the Sumerian story of
Queen Inanna’s descent to the underworld, a story that dates
from the third millennium Before the Common Era (BCE).
Inanna is an ancient myth about going into the underworld,
doing certain tasks, dying, and resurrecting - all with the
help and provocation of others. She does not go to the
underworld alone but in relationship with others. Before
going, she makes serious arrangements with her family and
friends.
The Inanna tale dates back to a time when the world was
more matrifocal. The root of the word matrifocal is mater
meaning mother. In ancient times, it was not unusual for
women to have been in places of authority and leadership.
The word anna in the ancient Sumer language, means
“mother of all.” The ancient name for the land where this
myth originated is Anatolia which means “land of the
mothers.” The land and time was very matrifocal, indeed.
Interestingly, it is the land between the Tigris and
Euphrates Rivers where we are fighting today. It is the
cradle of civilization.
In our story, there are several characters but the two
main players are Inanna, Queen Mother of the Upperworld, and
her sister Ereshkigal, Queen Mother of the Underworld. So
we have upper and lower world queens.
We are told, Inanna decided to journey to meet and
console her dark sister Ereshkigal because Ereshkigal was
pregnant though she had recently been widowed. Her’s was a
life and death existence. Though Inanna had never traveled
to the underworld, she was aware that the underworld was the
sacred realm of her sister Ereshkigal. Inanna therefore
made conscious preparations. She told her female aide
Ninshubar to seek help if she did not return in three days.
Three is an interesting number. It appears in a lot of
fairytales and nursery rhymes. It’s a number of
incompleteness. It appears in the story of Christ’s burial
and resurrection on Easter Sunday morning. Four is the
number of completeness and wholeness as in the four
directions and the four seasons. When Inanna
descended into the underworld, Ereshkigal grew furious that
her upperworld sister Inanna would dare enter her realm.
So, Ereshkigal made her pay and pay dearly to enter.
Inanna chose to descend to the underworld, but
she didn’t realize that her sister, Ereshkigal, the dread
Queen of the Underworld, would demand that she totally
divest herself of all her upperworld identity and dignity.
At each of the seven gates leading into the underworld,
Neti, the gatekeeper, refused to let Inanna pass until she
had stripped off each of her seven precious attributes and
relinquished them. First she lost her crown, then her
necklace of lapis, then her beads, her breastplate, her
bracelet, her scepter, and finally, her royal robe. Only
when naked and defenseless, unprotected by her royal
persona, is Inanna allowed to appear before the Queen of the
Dead. No uniforms here.
Naked and humbled Inanna was judged unfit to live.
Ereshkigal stared at her with the eyes of death. She then
left Inanna’s corpse to hang upon a peg until it became a
piece of rotting flesh. In reference to alcoholism or drug
addiction, I cannot help but think of Inanna as being hung
out to dry or just simply hung over. In Linda Leonard’s
wonderful book Witness to the Fire: Creativity and the Veil
of Addiction, she makes just such an analogy. This must be
how women feel when they are in the throws of their
addiction - hanging like rotting meat. Something cannot rot
unless it has had life in the first place,
When Inanna did not return after three days, her female
aide Ninshubar sought help from the father gods but most of
the father gods were already angry that Inanna had even
dared venture to the underworld in the first place and
refused to help her, saying, “She went to the Dark City, let
her stay there.” Only kind Enki, god of the waters,
grieved her absence and responded. From the dirt underneath
his finger nails he fashioned two small asexual creatures
who slipped into the underworld unnoticed and grieved
sympathetically with Ereshkigal, who was by now in labor and
about to give birth. Ereshkigal was grateful for their
empathy, and in return gave them Inanna’s corpse which they
revived with the food and water of life that Enki had given
them.
Inanna was then told: “No one ascends from the
underworld unmarked.” When we have experienced a bad
situation, of any sort, it marks us for the rest of our
lives. Demons from the underworld clung to her side, and
she was required to send back a substitute to take her
place. Refusing to send her faithful feminine aide
Ninshubar, she chose instead her husband, Dumuzi, who had
been lounging on his throne in comfort. Dumuzi tried to
escape the demons, but they found and bound him, stripped
him naked, and took him to the underworld. Finally,
Dumuzi’s sister agreed to share his fate, and from then on,
each spent half the year in the underworld.
This reads like an afternoon soap opera, doesn’t it?
Actually, soaps are based on archetypal images.
In a sense, Inanna and her sister Ereshkigal are
opposites sides of the same person. Inanna is the queen of
the upperworld and Ereshkigal is queen of the underworld.
Inanna is representative of consciousness, and Ereshkigal is
representative of unconsciousness. They cannot operate
alone. They need each other to create wholeness. They need
to be in relationship.
Though Ereshkigal has lost her spouse through death,
she is pregnant. Pregnancy is a symbol of new life and
hope. Perhaps this signifies that Inanna who has died to
the conscious world above will also give birth to a new
Self. But first she must go through the birthing pains of
being stripped naked and hung on a hook to rot.
Persephone
Let’s leave the matrifocal world of ancient Sumeria and
enter the more patriarchal world of the Greeks and Romans
where women have less power and men are in charge.
In our story of Persephone, as in Inanna, you will
notice a similar motif of the need to return to the
underworld for part of the year. As we said earlier, going
into the underworld need not be a negative time. It can be
a time of rejuvenation; a time of quiet and catching one’s
breath; a retreat or re-treat. Right now our earth is
approaching autumn. Things will be dying, leaves will be
falling from the trees. The earth will be going into its
rest period getting prepared for the freezing cold and
eventual spring thaw. The earth’s cycle is very much like a
woman’s body. Women are circuitous. We have our menstrual
cycles. The moon has a twenty-eight day cycle just as our
bodies do. That is why the moon is a feminine symbol and
the sun is a masculine symbol. The moon waxes and wanes
every twenty eight days, while the sun is ever bright and
shining.
In the story of Persephone we are told that one day the
beautiful, fair-haired maiden Persephone was romping on the
plains picking flowers with her girlfriends when suddenly,
and with no warning, the earth began to tremble. A fissure
opened at the place where Persephone stood and a horse-drawn
chariot came up from the dark earth. Hades, the god of the
underworld leaned over, swooped Persephone into his arms,
and took her to the underworld as his new bride and queen.
In this story, Persephone had no time to prepare as Inanna
had. However, Persephone was not abandoned from above.
Her mother Demeter was in close relationship complaining
loudly and mournfully about the loss of her daughter as any
mother would.
When Persephone’s mother Demeter learned of the
abduction, she ragefully appeared before Zeus, the heavenly
brother of Hades, demanding the return of her daughter.
Stubborn Zeus had struck a bargain with his dark brother
Hades allowing him to take Persephone, and Zeus would not
relent on his agreement.
In Greek mythology the world is divided into three
realms each governed by a patriarchal figure. Zeus governed
the heavens; Poseidon governed the waters as you all well
know; and Hades governed the underworld. They were in
charge of their domains and they worked in tandem to make
the world operate to their satisfaction.
In sorrow and mourning, Demeter, the goddess of
agriculture, roamed the earth grieving the loss of her
daughter. In her sorrow, she knew of only one way to
persuade Zeus to give Persephone back. So Demeter played
her card. Demeter ordered the earth to cease producing.
This greatly bothered Zeus because as a result of the earth
remaining fallow, there were no sacrifices made to him nor
to the other gods. Finally, Zeus gave in and spoke with
his dark brother Hades, and they agreed to allow Persephone
to return to her mother on one condition. Persephone was to
eat nothing as she left the underworld.
Persephone was a young adolescent and, as we know, food
often plays a major role in the development of young people.
As she waited to reenter the realm of the upper world, we
are told she reached over and took the sweet juice from a
pomegranate for refreshment. As a result, Persephone’s
release now had a stipulation. She would be allowed to
return to earth as promised, but she would need to return to
the underworld one third of each year to visit her spouse
Hades. The Greeks used this story, or spin on a story, to
explain the seasons. When spring returns to earth, we are
told that Persephone is coming up from the underworld. I
used to tell first graders when the tulips and daffodils
were sticking up, that was Persephone’s nose poking through
the earth.
While in the underworld Persephone learned to be at
home and actually fell in love with Hades. She moved about
comfortably and settled into a sedate, slow pace of rest and
resuscitation. She was queen of the underworld, the bride
and companion of Hades. She had fallen in love with her
captor.
The phenomenon of falling in love with one’s captor is
not unusual even in today’s world. We saw what occurred
when Patty Hearst was abducted. She took her captor as her
lover. Then when released, and under police protection, she
later married her body guard. We remember in the 1950s how
employees abducted in a Stockholm bank were kept captive for
many days and when released, spoke highly of their captors.
In fact, the captive women were angry with the police for
their so called mistreatment of the captors. This is often
referred to in the study of psychology as the Stockholm
Syndrome. It is not unusual that women abused by their
partners often defend those very persons when the
authorities step in. The abused become partners in an
underworld experience. I was once told by Patrick Carnes, a
psychologist who works in a famous Arizona recovery program,
that ten of the fourteen female abductees married their
captors later. It’s one of the unusual things about women
when they are in an abusive situation. They find it
difficult to extricate themselves from their abuser for many
reasons - financial fears, more abuse, what will happen to
me and my children? They think, for them, t might be easier
to just stay in this abusive situation. On the other hand,
often when they leave an abusive relationship, they turn
around and marry someone just like the first abuser.
Psyche
Our next story is the story of Psyche another example
of a feminine journey to the underworld.
Notice as I tell the story of Psyche that she is in
constant relationship with someone. Particularly notice how
she navigates her journey to the underworld, not alone, but
with the help of others.
The tale of Eros and Psyche is probably one of the most
frequently emulated stories in the world. Movies, poetry,
operas, plays, literature, and daytime soap operas are based
on the archetypal image of lovers separated, rejoined, and
then returned to a state of bliss. Romeo and Juliet is a
beautiful rendition of the archetype of Eros and Psyche, as
is Westside Story, as is the Irish tale of Tristan and
Iseult. Eros is also known as Cupid, and we celebrate the
myth of Eros and Psyche on Valentine’s Day. Often times,
you will see paintings of Eros and Psyche in Art Museums,
and in the corner of the canvas will be a small angel with a
blindfold on his eyes. This is to show that Love Is Blind.
Eros is the god who makes us fall madly in love. The story
relates that Eros has a potent substance on the tip of his
arrows. When we fall madly in love, we have been struck by
his arrow, and the substance has entered our systems. Think
about when you have fallen in love. Don’t you do crazy
things? Aren’t you obsessed with the beloved? Love is a
drug. It does things to the chemistry in our brain. You’ve
been struck by the arrow of Eros.
The story of Psyche tells us that she is the last
daughter born to a poor family with two older sisters.
Sounds like Cinderella. As Psyche matures she becomes
absolutely beautiful, beautiful to the point that a whole
cult evolves around her. Human worshippers changed their
allegiance from the goddess of love Aphrodite, also known in
Roman mythology as Venus, to this mere mortal beauty,
Psyche. Aphrodite’s temples fell into neglect. Shy Psyche
is taunted by all this adulation. Though Psyche is
worshipped for her beauty, she is never chosen for a
marriage partner. We see this happen in high school where
the prettiest girl is not asked to the prom. She is so
pretty that the guys are afraid that she will reject them,
so no one asks her out
Psyche’s family is concerned about the marital future
of their daughter, and her father consults an oracle, a
fortune teller, who prophesizes that this youngest daughter
will some day marry a monster. Fearful, the father sends
Psyche to the top of a mountain where the gods will protect
her. Doesn’t that make sense that her father should send
her to a mountain top? Find a higher power, honey.
One day while the god Eros, son of Aphrodite, is
wandering about the mountain he spots Psyche, and because he
has accidentally wounded himself with one of his own potent
arrows, he falls deeply in love with her, and asks her to
marry him. This of course angers Aphrodite because not only
has Aphrodite lost her following to this mortal woman named
Psyche, but now Aphrodite’s own son has fallen in love with
this beautiful young woman. Aphrodite doesn’t know about
the marriage yet.
Psyche’s father agrees to allow his daughter to marry
the god Eros but Eros creates a prenuptial agreement, and
this is it: Psyche may lay with him during the night, but
in the morning she must leave their marriage bed, returning
only in the dark of the evening. She may not look upon his
face. Why, you ask? Because he is a god and any mortal who
looks upon the face of a god will die.
Psyche lives comfortably with this agreement and sees
nothing wrong. However, after a time, she grows lonely and
bored in her opulent lifestyle and invites her two sisters
to visit. They see what she has, and how she lives, and are
very jealous of the love she tells them she feels. They
tell her that Eros must be a monster because he will not
allow her to see his face. They encourage Psyche to steal
into the bedroom while Eros is asleep, and with a lighted
oil lamp, she is encouraged to pull the covers back and gaze
upon his face.
Early the next evening, Psyche enters Eros’s
bedchamber. In her hand is a lamp to help her get a better
glimpse of him. She leans over his sleeping body and in
doing so is wounded by one of his arrows. At the same time,
a drop of oil drips from the lamp and lands on the shoulder
of Eros. Surprised by this sudden intrusion, Eros leaps up
in all his god glory and runs home to his mother Aphrodite.
Aphrodite is furious with Eros for secretly marrying
Psyche, and she is still more angry with Psyche because of
her beauty. In retaliation for Psyche’s poor judgment and
disobedience to the marriage agreement, Aphrodite metes out
four severe and near impossible tasks which Psyche must
perform. If Psyche can be strong through these trials, she
may win back the favor of Aphrodite and the love of Eros.
If not, death will be her punishment.
The number four is a repeated motif in this story.
Psyche has four tasks, she has four helpers, she carries
four things into the underworld, and she meets four
individuals on her journey to the underworld.
As a symbolic number, four is closely associated with
the square and the cross. It is the number of the four
cardinal directions (north south east and west); the four
seasons (winter, spring, summer and autumn); the elements
(air, earth, fire, water); the four Evangelists (Matthew,
Mark, Luke and John); the four stages of life (childhood,
youth, maturity, old age). Generally, four is considered a
symbol of wholeness.
In the story of Psyche, if you listen closely, you will
hear reference to the four elements of earth, water, wind
and fire.
In the first of her four tasks, Psyche is required to
sift and organize a large pile of seeds by morning. She is
assisted by ants. Ants are bodies from the earth.
The second task requires her to gather fleece from
grazing rams. Reeds that grow along the banks of the river
talk to her and tell her how to get the fleece by waiting
until the rams have retired to their barn. She can then
gather the loosened wool from the brambles and the fence.
The third task requires Psyche to scoop up water from
the river Styx. An eagle flies to her aid and gathers the
water for her. The eagle depends on the wind for its
survival.
Lastly, Psyche is to get a box of beauty ointment from
Persephone in Hades. A tower talks her through the fiery
process. Psyche is on a journey toward wholeness, if she
can survive.
When Psyche has suffered enough and accomplished these
four tasks with the kind help of others, she leaves the
underworld to find Eros waiting for her. They reunite and
Zeus changes her from a mere mortal into a Divine goddess.
Eros and Psyche have a daughter they name Bliss and they
live happily ever after.
Summary
What strikes me about the three feminine mythological
journeys we have heard is the fact that all of the main
characters were in need of the kind support of others to
help them survive their ordeals. With reference to those
who participate in recovery programs, a person initially can
find it hard to fight the battle of their addiction alone.
That is why a new member of any recovery program is
encouraged to find a sponsor (from the Latin sponsa),
someone who can partner the recovering person in their
heroic journey through the underworld.
Why Differentiate Between Masculine and Feminine
Spirituality?
Is there a difference in the way men and women
develop spiritually? Is there a need to honor the feminine
way? As mentioned earlier, Carol Gilligan and her
researchers have shown us, through their research, that
women tend to approach relationships in a circuitous
fashion. Men tend to think and speak in a more linear
fashion. Both men and women get to the same destination but
with different modes of approach. If a relationship
approach with human beings can be different for women and
men, might then a relationship with a Divine be just as
different?
Several years ago, my spouse, Tom Lavin, and I were
giving a talk to a group of spiritual seekers in Ireland. I
began the talk with images of going in the direction of the
dark, chthonic underworld. Tom then talked about the hero’s
journey above. Our purpose was to balance and make
inclusive the archetypal image of journeying from both a
male and a female perspective. Our aim was to help the
audience understand the need to go in both directions - to
the upper world and to the underworld. After our
presentations, a gentleman in the audience, who obviously
was not listening to me, asked a question of my spouse. He
said, “I belong to a men’s study group and, recently, we
have found ourselves stuck in the dark. Could you shed some
light on our dilemma?” Those were his exact words! Tom
turned to me with a twinkle in his eye and said he would
defer the question to me. I simply responded, “What’s wrong
with the dark? If you stay there, you may learn some very
valuable lessons.” Men tend to want to get out of the dark,
they want to be “enlightened”; women, though they do not
necessarily like the dark, are able to navigate a dark
situation longer. Perhaps this has something to do with the
symbolism of the moon and sun that I spoke of earlier. The
moon waxes and wanes, but the sun is forever shining. The
male may need to always be in the light, while the moon is
satisfied with being in the dark sometimes. Jungian
analyst, Betty Meador (1992) explained this in her book
Uncursing the Darkness. She wrote:
Our own American culture, built on Judeo-Christian
monotheism, carries a strong bias against the dark, against
chaos, the dark side of order, against the cyclic which
includes waxing and waning, against the feminine as it is
related to the dark, and ultimately against the containing
of opposites in favor of the light only. (p. 118)
A Vision for the New Millennium
For decades, women have accommodated and adjusted to
the direction prescribed by recovery programs and everyone
else. The dominant admonition of recovery programs is to
find a “higher power.” This may be appropriate and helpful
to many people, but some women may be comfortable with their
underworld experience and need to be encouraged to sit with
it and be as comfortable in it as possible, remembering they
can bare the unbearable if they are in relationship with
someone else - a therapist, a friend, a lover, a parent, a
sponsor. As we enter this new millennium, we as health care
providers have the responsibility to be inclusive and open
to all venues when escorting those in recovery/discovery.
We need to be open to new possibilities and new directions
for envisioning the recovery process. It is extremely
important to honor individual ways of approaching a
spiritual path. There is no right way, nor wrong way, nor
only way.
Black Madonnas
Dark images of feminine divine have been with us for
centuries. We just don’t pay attention to them. I have
collected several images to show you here today. They are
just a small number. The Black Madonna is know throughout
the world in other countries. It is an archetype,
I am open to any questions after these images are
shown.
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