I have been drawn to a Jungian approach all of my life. I have always asked what happens? next where am I going?. Of course I have valued the role of where we come from. Life has always been a river. I have watched the water flow slowly and increasingly quickly to the sea to which we all return. A long time ago my father began reading to me. He read the myths of the Greeks, the Norse and the Egyptians. I have always loved myth and always known there are only myths. The only Sviour we ever need is a Saviour who frees us from Saviours. I am Chiron whose wound does not heal and I am the Fisher King The patterns are clear and one persons myth becomes another`s sacred text.
And
now just one year from my sixtieth birthday I gain yet another
qualification. I have just completed a Diploma in Jungian Therapy.
Its been an interesting year. Not only have I completed three massive
essays I have also recorded over 80 dreams which I will publish on
this blog in the coming few weeks. I have also gone back into therapy
with a Jungian therapist from the local area. I have long put off
dealing with some issues that have haunted me most of my life and in
particular certain events and emotional challenges I have experienced
over the last ten years.
In
those ten years I have gone bankrupt , begun a new relationship and
found myself dealing both legally and psychologically with the
implications of the events. I have leaked anger and frustration and
am at last dealing with them with the support both of my mentor and
my therapist. Its been am interesting time, a challenging time and
rewarding one. I have the wounded healer and still am in many
respects. However I am now officially a Jungian. The Asclepius
Therapy building like myself, both in persona and self has been given
a new lick of paint. Its battered exterior repaired and its past
looked at.
Now the crickets are singing
The vesper bells ringing
The cat's curled asleep in his chair
I'll go down to Bill's Bar
I can make it that far
And I'll see if my friends are still there
Yes, and here's to the few
Who forgive what you do
And the fewer who don't even care
Now the crickets are singing
The vesper bells ringing
The cat's curled asleep in his chair
I'll go down to Bill's Bar
I can make it that far
And I'll see if my friends are still there
Yes, and here's to the few
Who forgive what you do
And the fewer who don't even care
The
courses I have been running in both Philosophy and Culture continue
to grow. The therapy practice continues to expand and develop. As I
stand one year from my Sixtieth birthday I look forward to the next
few decades. I would like to thank many of you who have given me
support, encouragement and trust over the darker times of the last
ten years. To those who consider me a personification of Lucifer, a
Machiavellian politician and schemer par excellence I ask for you to
look at the monsters within yourselves, Perhaps that would help all
of us on this Kipper ridden Jingoistic Island that is Brexit Britain.
I thank you for your opposition , resistance and criticism. I am a
believer in dialectical thought if nothing else. You all have helped
me consider where I am going to. I have always been more interested
in teleology that determinism.
"The Future"
"The Future"
Give me back my broken night
my mirrored room, my secret life
it's lonely here,
there's no one left to torture
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me, baby,
that's an order!
Give me crack and anal sex
Take the only tree that's left
and stuff it up the hole
in your culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
give me Stalin and St Paul
I've seen the future, brother:
it is murder.
Things are going to slide, slide in all directions
Won't be nothing
Nothing you can measure anymore
The blizzard, the blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
You don't know me from the wind
you never will, you never did
I'm the little jew
who wrote the Bible
I've seen the nations rise and fall
I've heard their stories, heard them all
but love's the only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It's over, it ain't going
any further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil's riding crop
Get ready for the future:
it is murder
Things are going to slide ...
There'll be the breaking of the ancient
western code
Your private life will suddenly explode
There'll be phantoms
There'll be fires on the road
and the white man dancing
You'll see a woman
hanging upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown
and all the lousy little poets
coming round
tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson
and the white man dancin'
Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St Paul
Give me Christ
or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don't like children anyhow
I've seen the future, baby:
it is murder
my mirrored room, my secret life
it's lonely here,
there's no one left to torture
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me, baby,
that's an order!
Give me crack and anal sex
Take the only tree that's left
and stuff it up the hole
in your culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
give me Stalin and St Paul
I've seen the future, brother:
it is murder.
Things are going to slide, slide in all directions
Won't be nothing
Nothing you can measure anymore
The blizzard, the blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
You don't know me from the wind
you never will, you never did
I'm the little jew
who wrote the Bible
I've seen the nations rise and fall
I've heard their stories, heard them all
but love's the only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It's over, it ain't going
any further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil's riding crop
Get ready for the future:
it is murder
Things are going to slide ...
There'll be the breaking of the ancient
western code
Your private life will suddenly explode
There'll be phantoms
There'll be fires on the road
and the white man dancing
You'll see a woman
hanging upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown
and all the lousy little poets
coming round
tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson
and the white man dancin'
Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St Paul
Give me Christ
or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don't like children anyhow
I've seen the future, baby:
it is murder
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