(This is a continuation from Storm-Child, published on 1-8-2020)
At the dinner party in my mind, there are 3 facets to my soul, represented by the timid and scared child, the angry tired old man, and the wordless beast who is here very much under sufferance.
As they sit at the table, the tension between them is palpable, and very real. None of them want to be here, as they fear greatly the reason I have brought them to this place.
For each of them must die to live in the others, three becoming one.
Quite rightly, they fear this. They sense that they might find a long awaited sense of peace and completion together, but they know not how to give up their sense of identity and integrate as one.
To them it seems like an unendurable form of agony, to allow themselves to fall away into something different, and since none of them have any experience with the peace and happiness that awaits them, they are reluctant to sacrifice that which they know, for that which they have no concept of.
Especially when that sacrifice seems infinite and eternal.
The way forward for each of them is different. For the child, he needs the wisdom of the old man, and the courage and power of the beast. The old man needs the time that the child has, and the ability to act in spite of his exhaustion that is present in the beast.
The remedy for the beast is much different, for he needs the wisdom of the old man, and the innocence and kindness present in the child, but until he has had his chance to rage, he will accept neither.
Clearly, the melding of the three into One is not going to be fun, and it is not going to be easy.
Each of them require a very particular space. For the child, the space is to explore and experiment, gaining wisdom and courage in the absence of the berating vitriol supplied by the old man, and the threat he fears from possessing the strength of the beast.
The space required by the old man would give him an opportunity to grieve that which he feels like he has lost, and the courage to again see the world with a sense of wonder and possibility like the little child does.
The beast…. His space is very different.
Because he can’t have what he wants, which is the space to rage, to scream, to revenge himself and to confront all perceived threats with force, with anger, with destruction.
He can’t get that, because the cost would be too high to all four of us, and because the other 3 of us (the child, the old man and the consciousness that is me) have some understanding that his way would never bring us peace.
So the beast has to be given a space to rage, but only in a limited realm, and in a very controlled way.
Each of them in some way has to try, to risk, to experience and to win and lose, so that they might gain a sense of completion and wisdom, and by doing so learn to call upon the talents of each other.
Each of them has something to bring to the table, something to offer the others, but each of them needs their time in the sun also, feeling if not vindicated, then at least heard, if not free, then at least noticed.
And my role, my journey, and my only pathway to the peace that I crave, is to guide them all through this process, balancing their needs and their desires in a dance that will not be easy, but has no option but to succeed.
For I have lived too long fractured into the four of us, and desire the rest I sense as the separates become whole.
And the journey of my soul is far from over.
— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings