Red-Crowned Crane - The Fairy Crane

This is the Red-Crowned Crane which is a rare bird that makes its home nearby in the Yancheng area.  I took the photo in the Yancheng area not knowing that the bird is on the protected species list as the second rarest crane in the world.  I took the photo because the Red-Crowned Crane is featured in the mythology of China in a significant manner.  In Chinese, the bird is called Xian He (仙鹤), or fairy crane.

In trying to do a search for the myths that surround this large bird, I kept coming up short with only a few lines that were repeated and repeated endlessly about how this bird was "a symbol of longevity and immortality" and of "nobility." The myths themselves eluded my search.  Perhaps they are yet to be translated into English and so I am left with all the images that are abundant here in China, images that feature the crane.   

"While the world as it is is infinitely more complex than we can imagine, we are provided with the helpful tools of metaphor and symbol to move from the knowable world to the unknowable.  If the poet compares the beloved to a flower, or analogizes the human life cycle with the seasons, we know full well what is intended.  From this capacity for metaphor, symbol, analogy, we have the possibility through imagination of creating a partnership with mystery."  (Hollis, Mythologems, p. 31)

I am learning something here.  I wonder about how there are things that are knowable - known - to some, such as the myths surrounding this crane, and those things that are a mystery to all.  We sense/intuit something numinous but we can't move from the fuzzy edges of contact into conscious awareness.  What comes after death is the best analogy that I can think of - do we become immortal?  The crane suggests that we do, a noble immortality that demands a transcendence from a corporal form.  There is not "truths" to be had here, just the fuzzy edges of mystery.

In Search of Answers

Looking out a window at the world passing by, this young Chinese girl is enjoying late fall sunshine in Changzhou.  There is something comforting about being in the sun's warmth and looking at out at the world while being safely contained.

One looks out with real curiosity at the world and wonders.  All those passing people, all the stories untold are mysteries that feed an inner curiosity.  One wants to know, but one doesn't know.

"The problem always comes back to the fact that we do not know what we do not know.  We are not conscious of that which we are unconscious.  We do not apprehend that which lies beyond our instruments of apprehension.  The wise from Socrates to the present, know that they do not know, so all of life remains a mystery, a curiosity, which gets, as British astronomer J.B.S. Haldane once concluded, ever curiouser and curiouser." (Hollis, Mythologems, p. 29)

Children, like this girl are also wise, an instinctual wisdom, as they know that they don't know.  So many adults, in fear of the unknown, proclaim truths and hold to the "hard facts" of science or the "word" of their religions.  Curiosity is a danger as it questions and doubts.

Did our world emerge out of a big bang or was it created by some deity or . . . ?  So many answers claiming the "truth," the ultimate answer.  Yet, the truth is that we don't know, that we can never be conscious of the unconscious.  And coming to realise that I don't know any of the answers, I allow myself to become curious, especially about the questions themselves and where the questions come.  What is it within the human psyche that probes into the unknown in search of beginnings, that searches for the roots of self?

The Capacity to Ask Why

This photo was taken almost two weeks ago.  It has been sitting on my desktop waiting patiently for me to finally place it here on the blog site.  To tell the truth, when I took the photo, I took it expressly for the purpose of using it here and so placed it on the desktop.  Then, I ignored it as if it wasn't even there.  Well, like all things that get shoved into the background, it eventually finds a way of making its presence felt with a demand to be brought into the light of day, into consciousness.  So, here it is.

So, what does this image mean?  Why this image?  Why did I even take it?  Obviously, something about Chinese architecture must be at play, something about an opening in a solid wall that is neither a door nor a window.  The wall is not within so both sides of the wall are "outside.  The wall isn't even a barrier as one can easily go past the wall as if it wasn't even there.

"The nature of the mythic sensibility is found most in our curiosity, our capacity to ask "why"? and "what does this mean"? and "how do I respond"?  (Hollis, Mythologems, p. 23)

So that is why, mythic sensibility is active.  This curiosity isn't the same curiosity one uses in search of solutions to math equations or for technical problems.  Rather, this is the original curiosity that one sees in a child that views the world with awe and with not just a little fear of the unknown.

Mythic Sensibility

This was the scene outside of my apartment window this morning.  The sun did rise though the air was murky.  Some days, this is the best it gets.  The promise of sunshine that quickly gets gobbled up by the elements leaving one in a gray world.

At moments like this, one wants to retreat from the world and lose oneself.  Should it be playing a mindless game against a computer or should it be facing up to the task of navigating through the smog of life, taking on the responsibility of doing rather than being absent?

"The flight from suffering, from consciousness, from personal responsibility in the face of the immensity of the space we traverse, is understandable; we are all familiar with it.  But when we examine the course our life demands, our own nature demands, we commit ourselves to it, then we are obeying the will of the gods, truly.  Such obedience may bring little comfort or security, but it will bring a larger life." (Hollis, Mythologems, pp21-22)

Yes, at times I want to escape it all, blame others for everything, have others be responsible for everything.  Sometimes it is just too heavy.  And at times, I just say the hell with it and abdicate all responsibility and do as little as I can get away with for a while.  But then, something pulls me back into presence, into doing my part, into being responsible, at least for myself and my small space of the whole.  At these times, it isn't as though I have much of a choice, not if I am still to remain a man, a sane man.

Myth as Tribal Value System

"Cultures as well as individuals live in service to values, not simply values that are conscious and rationally apprehended, but values which operate unconsciously as well."  (Hollis, Mythologems, p. 11)

 Today's photo was taken at the YanCheng Safari park here in Changzhou.  I had already chosen the topic for the day and was in search of a photo to "fit."  I had o  riginally thought to use a group photo of one of my classes that I took yesterday, but opted for this photo as soon as it scrolled past my eyes.  The image does evoke tribe, it does evoke instinct as well as awareness.  And whether or not one sits alone or with others, one is part of a tribe - contained.

I commented yesterday about being the "lone wolf" as part of my personal myth.  I have no doubt that I also must include a thread of being part of a tribe,  Living in China is proof to me that I operate both consciously and unconsciously on a tribal level.  Each day is confusing in its own way, a good confusing to tell the truth.  As I walk the streets, it appears as though much that happens in front of my eyes is chaotic and that all have lost "common sense."  I don't understand how there aren't a hundred traffic accidents a day in front of my apartment building.  That, forces me to look at "common sense" or at how I define common sense.  Everything I take for granted about community is based on my home culture.

Of course, this is worrying for me.  What values do I bring with me as I interact with my Chinese hosts?  I consciously work hard to be a good visitor, one that respects the host community.  But, I "know" that I still act out of unconscious values as much as I act consciously.  Being in a foreign environment becomes even more of a blessing as when I act unconsciously.  It becomes hard to pin it on others and forces me to own and to weigh the unconscious tribal value that got acted out.

I learned a long time ago that when one is a teacher, one doesn't really teach a course, or teach students; one teaches one's self to others while thinking one is teaching Math or History or whatever, to a group of students.

Myth as Personal Scenario

Yes, this is  wolf.  Though wolves run in packs, there is always the image of the lone wolf that stands out, one that is near the pack, but almost an outsider at the same time.  The lone wolf does take part in the pack's hunting and mates when it is time.  Yet for all the work, he is still a loner at heart.

". . . we are often bound to life-long scenarios which silently but constantly reveal themselves through the conduct of our lives." (Hollis, Mythologems, p. 10)

 Yes, I am seeing myself in this photo, one of my own personal myths.  I am a loner.  Though my life seems to indicate otherwise as I surrounded by family and colleagues and students.  Those who are closest to me know the truth about my loner distance.  Strange how this continues in spite of all the efforts on my part and the part of those closest to me.

In my own psychology, my own life, I sense more than one myth in operation.  I am beginning to think that there are a number of mythic threads that weave together to create one's life.  The myth of wounded healer, the myth of a lone wolf, of a distant flying eagle are just two of my own myths.  And in finding one's personal myths, one then looks at how they weave together to create the conscious self, the "me" that is the only way one can understand "self."

Images such as this wolf make me take time to sit with myself and be honest with myself.  Who am?  What myths do I live?  What kind of person does that allow me to be in terms of relationship with others?  Always questions that are lived.

Tension Between Meaninglessness and Meaningfulness

These two birds that I came across in the YanCheng Safari Park looked a bit bedraggled from their journey together.  They remind me a lot of my experience of China so far.  Looking at them, I see how couples here cling together for survival, carving out a small space simply in order to continue the process of life.  They don't know the "why" for their life.  All they know is that they live and that they will do their part for the continuation of life to follow - all practical stuff, instinctual stuff.

This instinctual stuff that lies within our unconscious is not only invested in life, it is invested in death.  As Hollis puts it,

"We hunger for meaning, for God, for love, for connection.  Simultaneously we hurtle toward extinction in seeking sleep, death, the arms of the beloved - all through the great darkness in which we walk."  (Hollis, Mythologems, p. 8)

This is heavy stuff.  As I read these words, I heard echoes in myself and I also wondered about how this plays out on the collective level.  Almost as soon as I wondered, I knew that there is no difference between the individual and the collective.

I know as an individual I want my life to have meaning.  Without meaning, for me, life is pointless.  If there was no meaning other than to be born, to reproduce and then fertilize the earth with my body, then there is no point in being good, in producing art, in music and song.  On the collective level, it seems that all cultures invest in life having meaning.  The rise of religions, the founding of universities, the protection of the arts through wars and all manner of catastrophes speak loudly of the knowledge at an unconscious level that there is meaning.

Yet for all of this desire for meaning, I spend much, if not most of my life in meaningless activity.  I simply fill hours in the day.  It is as though I resist as much as I am pulled to meaningfulness.

Journey of Soul

At the north end of YanCheng, in the southern part of Changzhou, a series of three open arches alert one to the fact that one is about to enter a different world, perhaps a different time.  I have yet to enter into this area of YanCheng as I am saving it for a Friday or Saturday in the not too distant future when sunlight promises good photography conditions.

Perhaps that is not the only reason that I delay the trip to the inner world of YanCheng.  I will only know when I finally make this journey.  If the open arches have any relation to the the journey, it will be one that is challenging, psychologically.  When is one ever ready for the next stage?  Always there is a fear of the creatures one will find that threaten the world as one knows it.  What will result from meeting these demons of the inner world?  How will I change?  Will the change disrupt my life as I know it, the patterns that have now become comfortable?

Perhaps that is the key - life has become comfortable.  I have been resting and gathering strength and courage for the next stage of the journey.  The words of Hollis find resonance within me:

"Clearly, we live in a culture of great spiritual impoverishment: addictive materialism makes us slaves to surfaces; fundamentalist clamor makes us fearful and anxious; and distracting, banal ideologies diminish rather than enlarge the journey of the soul." (Hollis, Mythologems, p. 8)

Ouch! Banality is where I have been finding myself lately.  In between teaching and preparing lessons, I fill in as many of the spaces playing cards against the computer with little ambition to do much more than that.  I have been thinking of buying another guitar and investing time with a return to playing music.  Why?  Perhaps as a diversion, as a way to fill in time and avoid doing some real work.  I am not sure.  And because of this, I sit and wait, holding the tension of waiting, for the pull back into the journey of soul.

Metaphor and Symbol

Water and reflections on the edges of YanCheng in Changzhou create a soft autumn scene.  When I look into the water, I sense an invitation to enter into a different world, one in which everything is turned on its head, a place where the impossible becomes possible.

I would imagine that it is because of the depths behind the reflections, especially the reflection of self and the world as we know it, that water has become symbolic of the unconscious - or at least one of the reasons for the symbolism.

". . . myth is perhaps the most important psychological and cultural construct of our time.  It is not only that the concept of myth has degenerated in popular parlance into something synonymous with falsehood.  Or that myth, as it has been said, is someone else's religion.  It is that, in a culture committed to the world of matter, access to the invisible world - which myth makes possible, along with its two chief instruments, metaphor and symbol - has never been more critical in allowing some balance of the spirit."  (Hollis, Mythologems, p. 8)

 As I teach here in Changzhou, I make sure that one of my first lessons include the topic of metaphor.  In cross-cultural situations when learning/teaching a second language, the images that words evoke are vital to successful communication.  It only makes sense then that images, both verbal and symbolic, are just as vital when trying to enter into the realm of the unconscious, the realm of the spirit and the soul.  The language of metaphor and symbol are my tools for the work I do in trying to uncover the hidden and buried aspects of myself.  The work is not much different that peeling away the layers of an onion wherein after the peeling of a layer, the onion is still an onion, but one is closer to the essence of the onion.

As I descend, layer upon layer, a bit more of myself is exposed to both myself and others around me.  It is as if I am being stripped of artifice and masks.  When the last layer is peeled away, one could conceivably say that nothing is left - or, one could say that the self has somehow expanded to include everything.  In Jungian terms, this is close to what one means when we say that the self morphs into the SELF - where there is no separation, where there is only the ONE - all that is and isn't held together - some would say this is God.

Gods and Goddesses Within

This small church, St. Antoine de Padoue Church, is located in Saskatchewan, in what is now a National Park called Batoche.  There is a history lesson in the story of this church, but that story is not for this blog.  Just an aside, the church is still in use for occasional services for the Métis community that lives in the area.  I took my brother here for a visit in order to see if there was any connections to be made.  Though we are Métis, the tiny rural community and church didn't provide any threads of connection.  I should have known that quest was doomed to fail as I was again looking outward for connection, for validation, for salvation.  To be honest, I must own my story and my own quest and not place it on a community or a "faith."

"By identifying the unconscious as the source of every God or Goddess who ever, in whatever guise, addressed mankind, Jung challenges humanity to take heed of this side of itself, to gain a heightened awareness of the direction from which it is approached by the deities and to enhance its appreciation of the continued power.  Put briefly, Jung is saying that since mankind cannot divest itself of its relation to Gods and Goddesses, it wold therefore be in its best interests to face that side of itself from which they come, in the hope of teasing from them a myth which would be safe for its collective survival and enrichment." (Dourley, The Illness That We Are, pp 75-76)

It's tempting to cling to one of the new and revised holistic "faiths" as it would mean that I could have a rest from owning the roots of my own spiritualism.  But, for whatever reason, each of these new containers of "hope" leave me resisting.  I am left saddened and worried.  I ache for the loss that is lived by all those who migrate to new faiths, loosing their old faiths as much as I ache for those still unconscious of their own worth as they worship a God that is more and more distant, Gods who promise a holocaust for the human race.  I ache for those who almost gleefully grab the latest books proclaiming the end of the world.  If only they could discover the beauty within themselves, the gods and goddesses within themselves.