Mourning the Dream: Amor Fati
What was the dream?
Where and when did I lose it?
Is its mourning complete?
Will it ever be complete?
Did I really lose the dream?
To whom or what did I believe I lost it?
Is it possible to find it again?
These questions offer the structure and nature of myth. They are the myth. Every myth holds loss. Loss is often the beginning of a myth, the events that form the very substance and structure of myth: The fairy tale that takes us deep into the forest of life where we are lost amongst those trees whose roots reach to the core of our being.
Everyone has a tale. What is rare is the courage to follow this tale to the dark place it leads us to. Shadowlands. Descent. Abduction from ‘reality’. Depth Psychology is interested in Psyche's story after the descent.
The inner figure of the blind victim, the one who has the power to withstand the dark pull of the archetypal dynamic of illness/wholeness, was particularly active for a long period of time after I initially lost my eyesight. She kept looking for what I could not see, checking each eye over and over again separately, crying out in despair to the other eye to see if it could not grasp what this one could not. As a metaphor pointing to something not seen—shadow material not identified with—the soul of my blindness kept reaching out past her claustrophobic confinement to the blackness pressing in on her. She was relentless in her efforts to stay connected to the “not-me” that might help her learn how to see in another less literal way. I reflect now on how seeing and my sense of self became symbiotic in that what I could see, I felt was still a part of me; I could still be whole. I still had a relationship with these parts of my experience. And what I could not see, was not lost to me forever vanished as if my very sense of myself was suddenly unavailable, absent. Dead.