This time, I have taken this title from a book by Erich Fromm, which he wrote after he got back from USSR. At the heart of Fromm’s thesis is the notion that freedom is a diamagnetic force — by one pole, it compels us to escape to it, which Fromm calls positive freedom; by the other, it drives us to escape from it, a manifestation of negative freedom.
It is the story of our, Al’s and mine, escape from Iran. It is, as Erich Fromm might explain: the escape from “bad freedom to a good one”. Actually, I was asked by some dear friends to tell them about it, and here it is. I hope they would have a look at this story.
In the early 1980s, after the Islamic Republic established its power with closing down all the free activities and the free press, including the newspaper in which Al and I were working, it seemed to us that there is no chance to stay in Iran anymore. Of course, we wanted to try more and didn’t want to give up so easily. But as I mentioned lately in my earlier posts, we hadn’t the stamp on our ID papers and were not recognized in society, therefore couldn’t do any jobs to earn money. And also, I was the bad boy and one day had been arrested by the Islamic police. It took one week in jail and got a beating every day without any reason or lawsuit.
Al has, of course, given all the efforts to rescue me, and finally, with the help of one of our uncles, bribing the responsible Mullah with a notable sum, they could get me out of jail. In between, we had found out that we are both on the blacklist of the regime, and it’d be better if we could vanish immediately. We needed to get our passports, and a permission to travel or exit Iran which has costed also a few sums! After this, we had needed visas which we have got from a German friend in Iran, and we got them in the form of a business visa.
Everything looked alright, and we got the tickets and on the very day, we, with excited beating hearts, got through the transit. But the last step at the gate, the airport police got us out of the row and said we have to wait because there is something wrong with our Exit Permit. This Permission was signed by a Mullah, and we thought that everything had to be okay. But, as we’d found out later, he was arrested by another Mullah, therefore, his signature was not valid anymore! Anyway, first, they kept us in the departure hall, there came even the pilot personally and ask the police to let us get on board. But they refused it. The pilot was totally unfortunate and told us sadly that he had to fly now. And the aeroplane flew with our suitcases toward Germany. Then the police took us into a room, where we stayed for several hours.
Finally, in the late evening, the chief of the department came to us, said that he is very sorry for the circumstances, but now we are free and can go home! To ask any question was dumb, we have got our passports and went to a friend’s, we had no home anymore.
It was the beginning of our journey, which looked that failed. I was worry, not about our luggage which was rolling on the baggage conveyor belt in Düsseldorfer Flughafen, and nobody was there to pick them up. But I was concerned about another apprehend by the police. But just let to be continued. I tell you in the next part, have a safe and great weekend.
“Truth does not change because it is, or is not, believed by a majority of the people.” “Maybe you who condemn me are in greater fear than I who am condemned.” “It is proof of a base and low mind for one to wish to think with the masses or majority, merely because the majority is the majority. Giordano Bruno
I was always fascinated by the Hermetic knowledge. In the fact, It is one of the most important movements in the history of mankind. Especially, in 16th-century Italy, in the midst of the Renaissance, two powerful movements took hold. The first, the Hermetic Movement, was inspired by an ancient set of books housed in the library of Cosimo de’ Medici and written by the Egyptian sage Hermes Trismegistus. The movement expounded the return of the “true religion of the world” based on a form of natural magic that could draw down the powers of heaven and incorporate them into statues and physical structure. The other movement, the Heliocentric Movement launched by Copernicus, was a direct challenge to the Vatican’s biblical interpretation of the geocentric world system. Declared a heresy by the Pope, those who promoted it risked the full force of the Inquisition.
Exploring the meeting point of these two movements, we can find the most outspoken philosophers, alchemists, and scientist of the Renaissance, such as Giordano Bruno, Marsilio Ficino, Tommaso Campanella, called for the Hermetic Reformation of the Christian religion by building a magical utopic city, The City of the Sun, an architectural version of the heliocentric system.
And here, I want to tell about Giordano Bruno, who was one of them, though his knowledge, his thoughtfulness, his genius, and after all, his courage makes him an extraordinary person.
Of course, we must wonder about these great thinkers, who so brave and fearless, standing tall towards their fates. But as I read about Giordano Bruno’s last hours, I had to think about Socrates’s:
The hour of departure has arrived and we go our ways; I to die, and you to live. Which is better? Only God knows. Or: To fear death, my friends, is only to think ourselves wise, without being wise: for it is to think that we know what we do not know. For anything that men can tell, death may be the greatest good that can happen to them: but they fear it as if they knew quite well that it was the greatest of evils. And what is this but that shameful ignorance of thinking that we know what we do not know?Socrates
I had heard about Bruno many years ago, but I got to know him better by Robert Bauval‘s book: Vatican Heresy, with Chiara Hohenzollern. A highly recommended read. Bruno had a horrible end: a young Jesuit novice from Breslau, Germany, named Kaspar Schoppe was present at Bruno’s trail. It was Schoppe who reported his latest hours and famous words. Schoppe, a Protestant, had recently converted to Catholicism.
With Bruno were a few priests from Company of Mercy and Pity, whose morbid duty was to lead heretics to their place of execution. Also, in this morose procession were two Dominicans and two Jesuit monks who goaded Bruno and reminded him of his errors and heresies. At one stage, Bruno cried out: “I die a willing martyr, and my soul will rise with the smoke to Paradise.” To shut him up, a metal spike was pushed through his cheeks and another spike through his lips. Blood then gushed all over him. He then was tied to a wooden stake and burned alive.
According to Schoppe, “When the image of our Savior was shown to him before his death, he angrily rejected it with averred face.” Apparently, when Bruno was agonizing in the flames, one of the Dominican monks brandishes a crucifix (Schoppe’s “image of our Savior”) in his face. But Bruno, in an act of amazing defiance, managed a last surge of energy while his limbs were roasting in the flames: he swung his head away in total revulsion.
A while before, Bruno had written these words, which would fit well as an epitaph for him.
I have fought… it is much… victory lies in the hands of Fate. Be that with me as it may, whoever shall prove conqueror, future ages will not deny that I did not fear to die, was second to none inconstancy, and preferred a spirited death to a craven life.
He, Giordano Bruno, was distinguished for outstanding ability, his taste for free thinking and forbidden books soon caused him difficulties. He took many travels around Europe. France, England, Germany. In France, he even met Henry III. His talents attracted the benevolent attention of the King, and the King Henry III summoned him to the court. Bruno subsequently reported:
“I got me such a name that King Henry III summoned me one day to discover from me if the memory which I possessed was natural or acquired by magic art. I satisfied him that it did not come from sorcery but from organized knowledge; and, following this, I got a book on memory printed, entitled The Shadows of Ideas, which I dedicated to His Majesty. Forthwith he gave me an Extraordinary Lectureship with a salary.
In London, England, Bruno took up residence in the house of the French ambassador through the recommendation of Henry III. in June 1583, just a few months after his arrival, he somehow got himself invited to the University of Oxford to debate his radical views with a group of scholars. Though, it wasn’t so successful.
In Germany, he failed to obtain a teaching position at Marburg but was granted permission to teach at Wittenberg, where he lectured on Aristotle for two years. However, with a change of intellectual climate there, he was no longer welcome and in 1588 went to Prague, where he obtained 300 Talers from Rudolf II, but no teaching position. He went on to serve briefly as a professor in Helmstedt but had to flee again when he was excommunicated by the Lutherans.
Obviously, his life was nowhere in a great danger. But he did have decided for the false choice and got back to Italy: At the time the Inquisition seemed to be losing some of its strictness, and because the Republic of Venice was the most liberal state in the Italian Peninsula, Bruno was lulled into making the fatal mistake of returning to Italy.
With his death, we lost another great genius and thinker in our history. What a shame, what a loss! When we will learn.
I love fairytales since when I could begin to dream. I think it happens more often for the children who always have something left to wish for. And for me, yes! I had (and still have) a lot of wishes and dreams. I believe It is because of some trauma in my time as a kid. They could cause some problematic complexes, but I kept them as wishes and dreams.
Fairytales are the best way to keep the wishes alive. They will grow the power of imagination, and I have used them all with the whole of my energy. I read a lot of books and watched a lot of movies of that kind, and always wanted to be the good one, the hero! Now I appreciate this because the power of my fantasy has not become older but mightier.
Here I present a short but extensive fairytale, again from the brilliant site of our Greek friends (though, I don’t know whose story is that), to show how instructive it can be. Enjoy and have a great weekend. 🙏🤗💖
Jean-François Champollion’s a premiere in the decipherment of the hieroglyphic script, though Thomas Young, the British polymath, had made the first advances in the decipherment before 1819. But he was a genius, and he did great work to give us the ability to read the Egyptian hieroglyph.
In 1822, Champollion published his first breakthrough in the decipherment of the Rosetta hieroglyphs, showing that the Egyptian writing system was a combination of phonetic and ideographic signs – the first such script discovered. In 1824, he published a Précis in which he detailed a decipherment of the hieroglyphic script demonstrating the values of its phonetic and ideographic signs. In 1829, he traveled to Egypt where he was able to read many hieroglyphic texts that had never before been studied, and brought home a large body of new drawings of hieroglyphic inscriptions. Home again he was given a professorship in Egyptology, but only lectured a few times before his health, ruined by the hardships of the Egyptian journey, forced him to give up teaching. He died in Paris in 1832, 41 years old. His grammar of Ancient Egyptian was published posthumously.
During his life as well as long after his death, intense discussions over the merits of his decipherment were carried out among Egyptologists. Some faulted him for not having given sufficient credit to the early discoveries of Young, accusing him of plagiarism, and others long disputed the accuracy of his decipherments. But subsequent findings and confirmations of his readings by scholars building on his results gradually led to the general acceptance of his work. Although some still argue that he should have acknowledged the contributions of Young, his decipherment is now universally accepted and has been the basis for all further developments in the field. Consequently, he is regarded as the “Founder and Father of Egyptology”. (more here )
Champollion and others used Coptic and other languages to help them work out other words, but the Rosetta Stone was the key to hieroglyphic. This picture shows us how Champollion worked out what all the hieroglyphs in the two names were. This made it a lot easier to read other Egyptian words now.
Now, let us read the latest time of this amazing man. With heartfelt thanks to Marie Grillot.
At this moment which takes on such a special symbolism in ancient Egypt, at this hour when the sun finally triumphs over darkness, Jean-François Champollion passes away in Paris on March 4, 1832. The one who, in the fire of his passion, said: “I am all in Egypt, she is everything for me”, has been swept away by the disease when he is only 41 years old …
He has always had poor health. We remember his syncope during his “eureka” and his frequent discomforts, which occurred during his readings in the graves.
Consumption, diabetes, overwork have weakened him for months. His stay in Egypt, during which he drank the water from the Nile, was also bad for his fragile liver.
The few months before his last Autumn spent in Figeac, where he returned to be pampered with his family, but this only brought him a slight improvement. On his return to Paris at the beginning of 1830, he had settled with his wife Rosine and his daughter Zoraïde in the Favart street Nr 4. In December, he resumed his lessons at the Collège de France, but he had to abandon them after a few days. Breathless and exhausted by endless coughing fits, it became impossible for him to provide his teaching.
With his brother, Jacques-Joseph, the faithful, the protector at all times, he nevertheless continues to work on his “Egyptian Grammar”; moreover, he confided to his work: “I hope that it will be my calling card for posterity.”
In January, his condition worsened, but he still fought against this evil that later won him over… Jacques-Joseph relates with emotion these tragic moments when he implores: “’My God, two more years’… and then hitting his head:’ Too soon There is still so much in there ‘.
At the beginning of February, he goes into delirium, from which he will emerge only briefly. He will have time to say: “I want to be buried at Père-Lachaise, near Fourier”. He will have time to ask to see his “Egyptian outfit” again, that outfit which certainly reminds him of the best days of his existence: his Galabiah, his Caftan, his Tarbouche… and his Gournah slippers.
He will have time to worry about transporting the obelisk. The obelisk which he “chose” himself at Louqsor, and which returns to the “Luxor”, in a ship commanded by one of his very dear friends, Raymond Jean Baptiste de Verninac Saint-Maur, the one who commanded the “Astrolabe” on his return from the Franco-Tuscan expedition.
On March 3, he received extreme unction… Then, on March 4, this genius disappeared, who awakened the walls of the temples, made the papyri possible to read, revived the statues of the pharaohs, which the proscription of worship by Theodosius, 15 centuries earlier, had abandoned themselves to silence, and the key to writing and reading hieroglyphics having fallen into oblivion …
His funeral took place on March 6. 1832, at 11 a.m. In the beautiful baroque church of Saint-Roch, in the first arrondissement of Paris. He had attended this church when he was a student at the College de Franc., He was barely over 17 years old. There he had met the vicar Cheftitchi, his best Coptic teacher and heard him say the mass, in the language of ‘his’ dear Rhamses and Thoutmès”.
He is buried in Division 18 of Père-Lachaise, where his grave covered with laurels. “His coffin placed, following his wish, not far from Fourier: this mathematician, the prefect, the friend, the initiator” (Jean Lacouture). If many present personalities and scientist regret his inestimable contribution to the knowledge of antiquity, many are there as friends because Jean-François was: “good, indulgent, helpful, worthy in everything of his high reputation and respect which surrounded his life “. Later, his wife Rosine had a simple but dignified monument erected at her own expense, that can still be seen today in the Alley of Acacias”. (Honestly, I had a little problem translating this paragraph, therefore, I added the original text, maybe someone can do it better!) 👇😉👍
Il est enterré dans la division 18 du Père-Lachaise où sa tombe est recouverte de lauriers. “Son cercueil fut déposé, suivant son vœu non loin de Fourier, le mathématicien, le préfet, l’ami, l’initiateur” (Jean Lacouture). Si nombre de personnalités présentes regrettent le savant et bien sûr son inestimable apport à la connaissance de l’antiquité, nombreux sont là en amis, parce que Jean-François fut : “bon, indulgent, serviable, digne en tout de sa haute réputation et du respect qui environna sa vie”. Plus tard, Rosine son épouse “fit élever à ses frais le monument simple mais digne que l’on peut voir aujourd’hui encore dans l’allée des Acacias”.
A large stone slab bears the following inscription: HERE REPOSE JEAN-FRANÇOIS CHAMPOLLION BORN IN FIGEAC, DEPT. FROM THE LOT, DEC. 1790 DATED IN PARIS ON MARCH 4, 1832.
A sandstone obelisk was then added to it, with these only words engraved: “Champollion the young”, but the symbol is there, solar, luminous …
Mr. de Forbin, director of the royal museums, will address the king: “to ask him to have the bust of Mr Champollion young executed in marble to be placed in the Egyptian museum of which he is the founder”.
Even Wilkinson (who had nevertheless refused to meet him) will send, from Gournah, saddened condolences, saluting “the inestimable talent of this scholar”. And this homage, anonymous, but gives us a completely emotional dimension “We will regret, no less than the scientists: what equality of temper, what need for affection, what tenderness of heart!”
It is with a broken heart that Jacques-Joseph will bid farewell to the one who “had been more than his own existence”. From his birth in Figeac to his untimely death in Paris, he loved, pampered, carried, accompanied, helped, supported. He will be keen to perpetuate his memory and will publish his posthumous works, in particular, the “Egyptian Grammar”, the “Egyptian Dictionary in Hieroglyphic Writing” and the “Monuments of Egypt and Nubia” …
Today, I want to share my thoughts with you, the Ones which concern me lately. I don’t want to talk about any conspiracy or whatsoever likes. It is only this all stuff about Coronavirus, the Vaccine, and the subjects of matter of terrifying. Please read this carefully, and I hope I can explain my point of view clearly.
Hi, dear friends, before you read this post, please don’t be upset, because it is not a usual post of me, and it maybe looks too strange before your eyes. And I don’t claim anything except my rights of free choice. And I think that it has to do with all of you, your personal freedom, your personal rights, please think twice about what prejudice before you do.
Of course, I am not talking about Bill Gates with George Clooney and Hillary Clinton, who want to control the world and drink children’s blood!! It is all about me myself. I just wanna say: I don’t want to get vaccinated. I can’t do the same as the mass do! I did it always, all through my life, and I was not alone. Al, my brother, has been in the same way, though everyone in his own style.
Al was silent, as hermit and recluse. I was curious and rebel, and more in the public, might because of my working as a photographer. I uttered my thoughts always loud and clear, with no fear and with my head raised. That might sound crazy, but I was crazy (and still am, though, got older). After the 1979′ revolution in Iran, there was rarely a day in which I walked through the streets without being observed or forced into the police car for investigation.
I don’t know the reason why they were so fixated on me, perhaps, because, every time they have observed me, I have looked back at them! And I have never made their investigation easier as I complained that they’d have no right to inspect me. I knew about my right, and it made them angry. And finally, one day, they took me to jail without any reason. There, I had learned about their way of torturing. It is, of course, another story.
Let’s get back to the present. Last year, as this virus appeared, everything looked so easy. I speak about the situation in Germany, as I am living here. I have read a lot about the conditions in the other countries, but I should judge better, where I have a direct overview. And I think that it stinks high to the sky!
The German government, first, meant it’s all under control. Then, after all, it was clear that it’s not! Later, as the word (lockdown) became a lovely word, running through the mouth of every minister, they began to make mistakes one after another. It was because they did know nothing about what to do, but they didn’t want to concede that, and they still don’t know. This made me unsure about their skill and competence to solve the problem, and from the beginning, I didn’t care about their advice. I was working every day, with many peoples in close contact, but until now, I have got no diseases. I do not deny this virus. It exists among the other different virus, and I am not afraid of them all.
Some years ago, when Influenza made a fuss in Europe, I had almost every day someone infected in my car, and those days we had no mask to protect ourselves. But I had no fear because I believed (and still believing) in my own immunity (antibody). Everybody told me, those days, that I should let myself vaccinate for protecting from influenza, but I didn’t do that, and I don’t want to do this also against Covid!
As we might remember, influenza killed over ten thousand every year in the world. It is only this year that it takes a break because the Covid makes it instead! In my opinion, it is the same danger and nothing more. But as we see, there are a lot of chances to make money out of it. They do it in the form of shipment shops or, like in Germany, the lobbyists sell masks with a little help from the politics and the ministers, and all make an immense profit.
After this long prologue, I want to ask you if I have the right to say: I DO NOT WANT TO GET VACCINE! You may answer, of course, I have. But there is a mean problem, it is that every step one wanna undertake, like going to the cinema, restaurants, concerts or travels, will be conditional. The Vaccination certificate!
Please listen! You may not know how is it to live under a dictatorship. But I know it, as I lived over thirty years under two totally different ones. I Just want to say that every government or regime in the whole world, no matter where, just all want to enjoy ruling totally. As Aristotle said, (as he damaged the beautiful world of his master Platon!): The politicians must earn enough money, not to get the temptation of any corrupted idea. But as we see today, there is no limit and their thirst.
You know! I don’t want to compare Europe (EU) with the Islamic Republic of Iran but, when Khomeini came to power, he made a referendum about if the people of Iran want the Islamic Republic or not: Yes or No! Al and I didn’t take part in this referendum because we knew there is all fraud. There was no coercion to take part in this election, we were free, but the trick was that the people, who took part in it, had got a stamp in their pass, and this stamp was not just a thing, it was the acceptance of your being alive. We had not this stamp, therefore, we were not alive! We couldn’t get a job or insurance or everything that had to do with the government, and unfortunately, I feel the same right now; we are allowed to reject the vaccine but, we can’t do anything we like to do!We, the not vaccinated, do not belong to society.
Anyhow, for many years, I got accustomed to my loneliness or swimming against the stream but, it is also calming to share my thoughts, the forbidden thoughts, with my friends. As we might know, the German peoples were one of the beginners of the fight for freedom. Here is one of the most famous song all thereabout. Enjoy and have a wonderful and safe time. 🙏💖🙏👍
I got to know Hermann Hesse’ works in Iran in the 1970s. There were only a few books which translated from him. It was when I came to Germany, I’ve got to know him better. He was not just a poet; he was a great thinker, philosopher, and painter.
I remember well when I had a customer whom I drove to the next city for an eyes-OP (injection) once a month. She’s a wise woman, and we talked a lot about many different things, among them literature. One of her favourites was Hermann Hesse, and once, she gave me a book of him (Freude am Garten) to have a look at when I had to wait for her. There I found out how soft and deeply he narrates about thoughts, love and life.
Here one of his peoms:
Frühlingstag Wind im Gesträuch und Vogelpfiff Und hoch im höchsten süßen Blau Ein stilles, stolzes Wolkenschiff. . . Ich träume von einer blonden Frau, Ich träume von meiner Jugendzeit, Der hohe Himmel blau und weit Ist meiner Sehnsucht Wiege, Darin ich stillgesinnt Und selig warm Mit leisem Summen liege, So wie in seiner Mutter Arm Ein Kind.
spring day Wind in the bushes and birds whistle And high in the highest sweet blue A quiet, proud cloud ship. . . I dream of a blonde woman I dream of my youth The high sky blue and wide Is the cradle of my longing In it I quietly mused And blissfully warm With a low humming lie Just like in his mother’s arm A child.
And now, I want to present a brilliant article by Sandra “Eshewa” Saporito, about this master of the muse. She is a holistic operator specializing in transcultural shamanism and Mindfulness. For more here. Translated from Italian. 💖
Hermann Hesse, artist and Nobel Prize for literature, was born on July 2, 1877, in Germany, into a pietist family that gave him a very rigid education, where art did not have its place and was considered superficial.
Hermann Hesse one day wrote to his sister Adelaide about it: “It often happened that mum and dad expressed approval for a poem or a musical composition, adding immediately however that all this, of course, was the only atmosphere, only empty beauty, only art, without ever drawing a high value such as morality, will, character, etc. This theory has ruined my existence and I detached myself from it without the possibility of returning “.
This did not prevent him from becoming an Artist, with a capital “A”, not so much because he was a writer, poet, aphorist and painter at the same time but because his art was rich in meanings that went well beyond the purely aesthetic aspect. of the work: imbued with moral, philosophical and psychological meanings that exalted both the disturbances and the profound transformations of which his inner life was rich, some of his works, markedly influenced by his psychoanalytic sessions with CG Jung, described the inner journey to the discovery of the Self and the mysteries of existence.
His works are full of teachings, but today I would like to talk to you about the life of this great writer and the lessons that his life has left us as a legacy.
Search for your identity, your vocation: it is what elevates the human being
“THE TRUE VOCATION OF EVERYONE IS ONE ONLY, THAT OF COMING TO HIMSELF.”
Hermann Hesse matured a vision of art totally different from that of his parents, to the point of making it the pillar of his life. Although he had little hope that art could change society, he felt that it could profoundly change the man.
“Art, the fulfilment of inner satisfaction, meant connecting with a deep and essential meaning associated with the term ‘home’. This house, however, was not the house of her parents. It was rather a return to something intangible, linked to intuition, but unique for each individual. It was a return and a journey at the same time and could only be reached through art, or rather through the strenuous formation of oneself. “Barbara Spadini writes on the relationship between Hermann Hesse and art.
It was through this medium repudiated by his family that Hermann Hesse developed a visceral desire to discover his identity and to discover the mysteries of the world: which he did thanks to Jungian analytical psychology, the study of Buddhism, Hinduism and Gnosticism, art and philosophy.
He was in fact influenced by the life of his grandparents, whose name he bore: “To tell my story, I have to start from the distant beginning. If it were possible for me, I would have to go back much further, to the earliest years of my childhood and even further into the distant past of my origin.”
Art helps you become better human beings
Through his novels and poems, filled with autobiographical elements, Hermann Hesse recalled the episodes of the past that had caused him pain by making writing a tool for self-analysis, reflection on the world and inner evolution.
“I KNOW HOW MUCH INNER LIFE AND HOW MUCH ALIVE RED BLOOD EVERY SINGLE VERSE GENUINE MUST HAVE DRINK BEFORE YOU CAN STAND UP AND WALK ALONE.”
Its protagonists lived in the imagination what the author had experienced: the fears about the future linked to war and the violence perpetrated on human beings in the name of ideologies of power, the inner tensions linked to religion and its prohibitions, existential questions on the meaning of life and the search for inner peace despite the inner evils that did not give him peace: he had been suffering from depression for years.
The plot of his works often highlighted how much the individual and the collective were linked, the reflection on identity moved back and forth towards a collective dimension that in turn influenced the individual for good or bad, leading him to both virtue and vice, with the awareness that life is made up of these two antagonistic forces.
The most beautiful works can be born from the crisis
“I WAS A PARTY OF NATURE THREW TOWARDS THE UNKNOWN, MAYBE TOWARDS SOMETHING NEW OR MAYBE EVEN TOWARDS NOTHING, LET IT DEVELOP FROM THE DEEP, OBEY MY DESTINY AND DO ITS WILL, THIS WAS MY TASK.”
Through art and writing, in particular, Hermann Hesse gave voice to those inner storms that he managed to govern thanks to the movement of his feather: writing became a tool to express the hidden side of identity, art became a bridge between invisible and manifest that allowed to channel and sublimate the impulses of the unconscious: pain was transmuted into art thanks to ink.
In Demian, a coming-of-age novel in 1919, Hermann Hesse wrote passages from his conversations with Dr Lang, collaborator of C. G. Jung with whom he made a psychoanalytic path to get out of a state of profound crisis. This path inspired him to write the novel: “But all [the conversations], even the humblest, hit with light and constant hammering the same point inside me, all contributed to form me, to break eggshells from each of which I raised my head a little higher, a little freer until the yellow bird with the beautiful head of a bird of prey erupted from the shattered shell of the world.”
This painful feather allowed him to develop a literary style that earned him a Nobel Prize in 1946 “For his inspired writing which, growing in audacity and penetration, exemplifies classical humanitarian ideals, and for the high quality of the style”.
In hindsight it is curious to note how much his works have influenced the minds of his readers, dispelling his initial belief: art actually, by changing men, can really help change society. A tree will certainly not be able to change the face of a forest, but its fruits, the potential trees, will certainly be able to do so over the course of many seasons.
When I read these sentences, I heard my heart beating the same words. There is a truth in them if we just take a look around and think twice. And yet, we can read between the lines.
Jorge Bucay (Jorge Bukai) is an Argentine gestalt psychotherapist, psychodramatist and writer. His books have sold more than 2 million copies around the world, and have been translated into more than seventeen languages. http://Wikipedia
The truly wise man does not escape from society, he just tries to give up the remnant of identity that others have assigned to him […]
For thousands of years, men and women have somehow been imprisoned within our identities, our cultures, our limitations, our fears and our guilt. The prisons that close our inflexible personalities are not called “prisons”. We have christened them with more beautiful and deceptive names: they are called temples, religion, political parties, ideology, culture, civilization, fame, power and honours […] however, do not be unjustly frightened. You never went to jail. You were born inside, and you were ordered to stay there – like me – before you became conscious (and perhaps neither of us has yet acquired it).
You were restricted (limited) to study, work, fall in love and get married in prison. They trained you and hypnotized you (like me) so that you could not see the railings. They pushed you (and pushed me) to believe that only there will you be protected. They told you (and we believed them) that, in the end, it would be the best you could have hoped for. The day you realize where you are and try to shout it out loud, they, your inmates in prison, will tell you that the others are lying, that the real prison is outside these walls. All those who tried to show you the truth will mourn and curse. And they will tell you that there is no freedom and that hell is outside. They will show you that inside you can truly have what you want (except your freedom, of course). They will try to entice you with prizes and applause to stay, they will offer you money, sex, luxuries and “special” conditions, because (they will tell you that) you are also “special”. And to prevent you from leaving, they will threaten you with punishments and tortures that you will suffer if you do not accept their offer. And if you still leave, I want you to know that… they will go out looking for you. Because outside prison you are a threat. They will run to bring you back, you or your corpse, to prove to everyone that life is impossible out there. But do not despair, and do not be frightened… From the moment you are free, no one will be able to imprison you if you do not want it either “
“Give up the remnant of identity that others have set for you, take the reins and live in the present intensely, with devotion and truly”
Excerpt from the book “From ignorance to wisdom”, Jorge Boukai.
He has something to say which are worth reading and understand for sure. I must, somehow, think about Dr Jung’s Collective Unconscious. He says: I learned that “consistency” means “continuity of speech”, “heritage”. In other words, consistent means faithful to the past, faithful to what others (our own history?) have put into it.
For a long time, I defended the right to be contradictory. I was saying that it was logical and expected that you would change your mind and that what mattered was not the contradiction itself, but the consequence. By reading and listening to the teachers, I learned that “consistency” means “continuity of speech”, “heritage”. In other words, consistent means faithful to the past, faithful to what others have put into it.
Now I do not try to be consistent with logic, and I would love if you did the same.
What I would like is to harmonize, as much as possible, with logic and, if possible, to help others achieve it.
If we are consistent with our past, then we are necessarily tied to it, and that means that we live like someone from the past, someone who once existed and left us his traces. Yes, but as far as I can say, it brings me no peace of mind. If I insist on being consistent, then I insist on living a constantly repeating story, and that means that I do not allow life to offer me anything new, nor do I ever offer anything new. The knower is someone who knows who he is, yet he shamelessly admits that he cannot predict his future actions, nor does he have the criteria to properly assess what will happen in the future and how he will react to events.
Martha Morris rescues these traditional tips:
If you stay still, you are no longer a river, you become a swamp, and life does not flow through you. Flowers will always open in spring, but if you do not open your window you will never smell their scent.
The birds will always return after winter, but if you do not look up at the sky, you will not even get it. The sun will surely rise tomorrow morning, but if you leave your doors closed the rays will never, ever illuminate your room.
On the way to wisdom, we will learn that if we are trapped in some of our own thoughts, we are likely to suffer. And we may admit that life is a struggle between our desire and the reality which is imposed on us, but it is also a struggle between our own consistent identity and authentic spontaneous existence.
If we do the following mathematical operation:
What I think I am
My harmful habits + The orders I accept
The limitations I have assimilated
All my influences
The emptiness of what I denied
Or we take out the sum, without the need for verification, we will get our identity as a result.
Our memories from the age of ignorance, enclose in themselves all the pressure we have received to end up consistent, predictable and identical with those who defined the identity of our upbringing.
In recognition, society says of the consistency that it “shows character.” A teacher who approaches wisdom does not show character, not because of the weakness of spirit, but because he does not need to prove anything. His behaviour is beyond character because he knows he does not have the luxury of always giving the same answer. And as we said, the character is only gained if we give up on change. A connoisseur discovers that it is important to be harmonious, free at all times to be as he/she is, free to find the behaviour that suits the time, free to become unpredictable without feeling guilty if he/she disappoints others.
From the book by Jorge Boukai : “From ignorance to wisdom” , opera / animus publications.
In ancient Egyptian religion, Menat was the name of the goddess Hathor. The artefact, whose name was slightly different in hieroglyphic spelling than that of the goddess, was held in the hand by its counterpoise and used as a rattle by Hathor’s priestesses. The form of the amulet is like an Aegis (shield from Greek) to protect the carrier.
Picture of the Menat necklace adorning the cow goddess Hathor
This necklace called “Menat” is composed of a multitude of threads loaded with pearls of several shades of blue, among which are distinguished rare threads composed of multicoloured pearls. All the threads are then gathered together (perhaps even twisted or braided) at each end to form a single cord. It is on this one that is then strung, on both sides, coloured beads, much larger and of very varied shapes. They are mostly round and long, but the assembly is different, on one side and the other. Glass, agate, carnelian, lapis lazuli, turquoise, the pearls come together, without obeying, it seems, a defined harmony, except perhaps for a reason of balance in the final part which hang on the hook to the counterweight.
Necklace “menat” – New Kingdom – reign of Amenhotep III
discovered in Malqatta in 1911 during excavations carried out by the Metropolitan Museum of Art
Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York) – reference 11.215.450
This significant part of the collar seems to have been added later; indeed: “if the name of Menat already appears in the Middle Kingdom, the representations that we have then show the necklace finished by pendants, and not by the counterweight. It seems it has been since the XVIIIth dynasty only that this one exists. ” (Paul Barguet)
Almost 15 cm long, it is carved in bronze. If it is sometimes indicated that it takes on the aspect of a “keyhole”, this interpretation on its form, issued in particular by Jean-Pierre Corteggiani, seems to us most relevant and seduces us – once again! – by the imagination and the symbolism of ancient Egypt: “It has been shown without difficulty that this one, close to that of certain“ dolls ”found in Theban tombs of the Middle Kingdom, is only the stylization of ” a female torso reducing the woman’s body, whose hair is evoked by the mass of pearls, to her pelvis (circular part) and to her bust (trapezoidal part), that is to say to its two essential functions: childbirth and breastfeeding. “
If this necklace could be worn as an adornment, it would be, like the sistrum, an attribute of the goddess Hathor. “The Menat, formed from a heavy bundle of pearl threads joined in cords at both ends and was Hathor’s favourite attribute, and one of the most common accessories of his cult.”
This is how it is found in the hands of certain goddesses, priests, but also women – especially in the New Kingdom the singers of Amun – who agitated it during religious ceremonies. Indeed: “after having folded the mass of pearls on the counterweight, it was used as a liturgical musical instrument, the friction of the two parts against each other producing a crackle, a sort of rhythmic clicking which must have been comparable to that of the sistrum: it is, therefore, often seen in the hands of singers and musicians, or in those of queens and princesses, who play the role of priestesses, alternately shaking the two instruments while raising them towards the gods. “
The “sound” emitted was magical and could “appease a god or a goddess”; as for the “gift of Menat”, it meant protection. So, quite naturally, it comes to mind the image of the magnificent relief that Jean-François Champollion brought back from the tomb of Seti I, which is exhibited in the Louvre. It represents, in a gesture that reveals infinite tenderness. Hathor is giving this Menat necklace to the pharaoh. “Hathor could not grant his followers a favour, greater than extending his Menat and having them touch it, to assure them of his protection.”
This necklace, dated to the New Kingdom, from the reign of Amenhotep III. It was discovered in 1911-1912 during excavations, carried out by the Metropolitan Museum of Art on the west bank of Luxor, south of the Theban necropolis, more precisely on the Malqatta site.
Christian Leblanc thus enlightens us on this place: “The palatial city of Malqatta covered a very large area: it had to start where the temple of Aÿ-Horemheb is located in the north and extend to Deir el-Chelouit in the north. It was a real city with its infrastructures, including a huge lake (± 2.5 km long x 1 km wide), known as Birket Habou, artificially dug and fed by a canal coming from the Nile. This aquatic structure, more than ± 5 m deep, which also served as a port, provided the city’s water supply and also could be used, on certain occasions, for religious ceremonies. The city was founded by Amenhotep III, perhaps long before his first jubilee, as certain “jar labels” found on the site seem to attest. The royal court lived there, surrounded by its dignitaries and its officials. The young Akhenaton and Nefertiti must have stayed there with their first maids before leaving Thebes for Tell el-Amarna. “
The Metropolitan expedition excavated the site for five seasons, from 1910 to 1921, under the direction of Herbert E. Winlock. “Members of the Egyptian Expedition” cleared sections of the palace that had not excavated by Tytus and Newberry, and the remains of the palace grounds that had not been destroyed by cultures. They also excavated and mapped much of the surrounding area, including the North Palace, several groups of private houses, a glass factory, a large ‘village hall’ and a mud-brick temple dedicated to the god Amun. “
The “Menat” necklace and the two other pearl necklaces
discovered in the “Private House B” of Malqatta in 1911
during excavations by the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York
New Kingdom – reign of Amenhotep III
It was in “Private House B” that this discovery took place. This miraculously preserved menat necklace and two single strand pearl and amulet necklaces were found in the corner of a room in a private house near the King’s Palace. in a canvas bag, traces of which were still visible. ” The presence of this “protective” bag certainly reflects the strong attachment that their owner devoted to these jewels …
It was in 1911, under the reference 11.215.450 which, this Menat entered – with the other two necklaces – at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, thanks to a donation from the Rogers Fund.