I wonder all the time as I see some friends in the WP sharing four or five posts daily; I am pretty sure they are not as grand(pa-ma) as I am! And under the motto, live and let live, I try my best to give my own little (so far) knowledge about the experiences in the environment where I can gather together. And it might be helpful for us all to understand more and… I think it is the goal that we all want to achieve.
Long words, short sense, as always!? I steal a post from my own FB sharing to share here, not only because of my tight time but because it hit me-self!! Frida Kahlo can do it. (With just some more words from Dr Jung about the Anima in us all, either Animus or Anima. I just say: I will never be complete without my Anima.
The Anima is not a dogmatic soul, not an Anima rationalis, which is a philosophical concept, but a natural archetype that satisfactorily subsumes all statements of the unconscious, of the primitive mind, of the history of language and religion. It is a “factor” in the true sense of the word. One can’t do it; it’s always the a priori of moods, reactions, impulses, and whatever else there is in mental spontaneity. It is a living thing by itself that makes us live a life behind consciousness that cannot be fully integrated into it but rather from which the latter emerges. For, after all, psychic life is unconscious mainly and includes consciousness on all sides; a thought becomes immediately plausible once one considers the unconscious preparation necessary to recognize a sense perception, for example.
Carl Jung; Archetypes
(Über die Archetypen des kollektiven Unbewussten)
Art: Kahlo, Frida (1907-1954) – 1949 The Love Embrace of the Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Diego, Me, and Senor Xolotl
Milton Sonn on Flickr.
And there are some more from the same book in the category; Anima and Animus.
These identifications with the social role are generally a productive source of neuroses. The human cannot, with impunity, rid himself of himself in favour of an artificial personality. Even the attempt to do so, in all ordinary cases, triggers unconscious reactions, whims, affects, fears, obsessions, weaknesses, vices, and so on. In “private life”, the socially “strong man” is often a child concerning his own emotional states, and his public discipline (which he demands very particularly of others) is miserably ruined privately. His “professional enthusiasm” has a melancholy face at home; his “spotless” public morality looks strange behind the mask – we don’t want to speak of deeds, only of fantasies, and the wives of such men would also have something to tell; his unselfish altruism – his children have different views.
To the extent that the world lures the individual out to identify with the mask, the individual is also exposed to influences from within. “High stands on low,” said Lao-tse (Laozi). From within, an opposite imposes itself. Indeed it is as if the unconscious repressed the ego with the same power with which the latter attracted to the persona. The lack of resistance on the outside against the lure of the persona means a similar weakness on the inside against the influences of the unconscious. The effective and robust role played externally, internally an effeminate weakness develops towards all unconscious influences; Moods and whims, anxiety, and even feminized sexuality (culminating in impotence) gradually gain the upper hand.
The persona, the ideal image of man as he should be, is internally compensated for by female weakness, and as the individual plays the strong man on the outside, he becomes female, the Anima, on the inside, for it is the Anima that confronts the persona. But because the inside is dark and invisible to the extraverted consciousness, and because one can think of one’s weaknesses the less, the more one is identical with the persona, the counterpart of the persona, the Anima, also remains entirely in the dark and is therefore initially projected, causing the hero to come under his wife’s slippers. If her increase in power is considerable, she bears it badly. She becomes inferior, providing the man with welcome proof that it is not he, the hero, who is inferior in “private life” but his wife. On the other hand, the woman has that illusion, which is so attractive to many, that she has married at least one hero, unconcerned about her own uselessness. This illusion game is often called; life content”!
Love you all, and have a lovely and peaceful weekend. 🙏🤗😘🙏💖
I must think of Fyodor Dostoevsky as I write this story. He had lacked the time and a challenge with himself to finish his novel: The Gambler. It was not only a story but almost a piece of his own life story. Of course, I thank you all for praising me and my courage to tell this period of my life.
Anyway, when we discovered drugs and began to use them, I think we were searching for another world. I believe it is even generally so. The one gets disappointed in its world and the environment and wants to leave this, the body, to let the soul fly away from all that shit! Maybe to find God, even, with the help of the Devil!? As Dr Jung says in his letter about a specific addicted patient; s. Part 1
His craving for alcohol was the equivalent of a low level of the spiritual thirst of our being for wholeness, expressed in medieval language: the union with God.
We had a lot of fun while taking LSD and when we smoked hash. With two dear friends, Al and I were hitchhiking toward the Caspian Sea and had laughed the world out. But the Devil: heroin, had its evil plan: the first third or fourth times we had our enjoyable height, then slowly but surely, it comes to a pleasant tingling in the back, a nice itch which doesn’t hurt but desired to smoke it again, and with the first inflow the smoke, a joyful fire run into the whole of the body! And that is the point in that the one is lost: you are in the hands of the Devil! Although when you are addicted, this feeling never comes again, the pleasure has reached its highest end, and after this, you smoke only to be normal. And there had begun some lonesome years for both of us, losing friends and creeping increasingly into the depths of our solitude. Of course, we have tried about five times to quit, the first four to no avail! The first two were with funny tablets given by the doctors that did not even calm our physical pain, and the next two were through methadone, which also wasn’t successful, and after some months, we returned to this again. But the last one has a unique story.
What is astonishing to me is that we both have never given up on our world. I mean, we have never mixed ourselves into the addicted world. You know, addicted people always have a world for themselves, not to be alone. I knew this world and met it as I went to buy the stuff every time. But as soon as I got that, I vanished again into our privet hide! We kept ourselves away from this mass; maybe that’s why we were not infected with the pills, which were very current on the market. These pills were actually very coveted by the addicted because when there was a lack of stuff on the market, which happened when the police mixed in, they used them to spend this painful time in ecstasy, but Al and I knew this infection. I was an eyewitness to such scenes where the young people lay in the corner, unconscious and totally helpless. We never wanted to belong to them! Or another example, we met friends who were rather injecting than smoking. They meant with this one would get higher. We tried it, though, after a while, as once we had to help to rescue a friend’s life from his Syncope and watching horrifyingly torn and swollen holes on the arms of some others, we stopped doing it and threw them all out of the house! We preferred to smoke only! Therefore, we kept ourselves decent as our mother always wished, and with the help of the dosage, we didn’t waste the stuff we needed. We knew we’d never get high with that; it was only to keep us constant!
Although it went well with the dealers we found, we felt exhausted. In the first years of addiction, we had a few friends with us to turn the sufferings into joy by laughing, but in the later years, everyone scattered, and it was hard to endure the situation alone. There was chaos in all systems, even in the centrum of the happening; I mean in southern Tehran, where drugs were the main business. Of course, it wasn’t going in a positive way to fight against it, but to make more money from the corrupted regime. They kept the market empty to raise the price. Therefore, we thought enough was enough! We didn’t have to be dependent on them.
Honestly, in these four inconclusive attempts during our five years of addiction, we’d never taken it seriously to end it. It was more to have a change. But the last one had to succeed. We have heard about a good doctor for his treatment, and when we visited him in his practice. He said although he had stopped the treatments on this issue some years ago, he decided to do it again and help us to quit. He sent us to a hospital (the first time for us to go to a hospital) and treated us there with his magical mix, as he called it. It was a syrup mixed with different meds. It really was a magical drunk as we left the hospital after three days, and we rarely had pain in our bodies. In quitting drugs, the first three days are known as the most painful period; the rest is much easier…? Nonsense! It might be apt with other drugs but never with heroin. The body pains are like childish games in front of the soul pains. This emptiness! You know! Heroin isn’t only a drug; it becomes everything in life: eating, drinking, sleeping, and worse: the music, poetry, all the arts which might fulfil the soul: it becomes the soul! And without it, there is a vast vacuum; you don’t know how to fill this emptiness.
The Awakened State _ The Universe is Inside of You.
As Dr Jung says in his letter, which I mentioned above; How could one formulate such an insight in a language that is not misunderstood in our days? The only right and legitimate way to such an experience are that it happens to you in reality, and it can only happen to you when you walk on a path which leads you to higher understanding. You might be led to that goal by an act of grace or through personal and honest contact with friends, or through a high education of the mind beyond the confines of mere rationalism.
The Islamic revolution had conquered the whole country, and we witnessed how the wishes for freedom in Iran went down into nothingness. It hits us both, and maybe Al more than me. Because he became active in his writing in the famous Iranian Newspapers during the unrest in the 78s, and he got his own page in one of the famous and well-known magazines after the regime change. But it was less than a year after overcoming the Shah’s regime that Khomeini shot down all the free press.
The hope was dead, and the soul was lost. Life was hard to carry on. Outside between the people, we felt like foreigners and at home between our four walls; it was like hell! We had smoked heroin all the time in this place, and the memories were horribly temptational. We didn’t want to begin again, and further was like torture; that’s why we decided to commit suicide!
I must go for the third part, I am afraid! It is hard to remember those days and write them down on this paper, but anyway, heartfelt thanks for your interest. 🙏🤗🙏💖
I might have mentioned in my stories, now and then, about our (Al’s and mine) addictions, and I think it’s the time now to tell about it so far as I can. I might dedicate it to some of my special friends on FB, especially Carlos A Riollando, who desired to know more about this topic, as once there was a text from Marion Woodman on Carl Jung’s point of view on the patient’s addiction to alcohol.
There Carl Jung talked about the principle of why people look for drugs to feel high. Here is what Jung explains in one of his letters to a friend. (With huge thanks to Andrew Beal)
You see, alcohol in Latin is spiritus, and you use the same word for the highest religious experience as well as for the most depraving poison. The helpful formula, therefore, is spiritus contra spiritum. “As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, 0 God” (Psalm 42:1). ~Carl Jung, Letters Vol. II, Pages 623-624
I am much brighter now, as I know his opinion about this. As I can well remember, Al and I were searching to go deeper into our psyche and find the unknown in the soul; the unconscious. Although, despite losing our father so early as children (I was seven, and Al was Nine), Al and I were decent so far as a child could be. We respected our mother, though she was, as a young widow, not so expert at bringing her sons up. Maybe it has to do something with genes; I don’t know! But we never did or even thought of going on the wrong way as it might usually happen to the orphaned children. You know, I think humans always have unanswered questions, and all religions mean to have the answers to these questions. Yet these answers aren’t enough; they even look like rip-offs or kidding. Then one tries another way, and these ways determine the goals. If the one who might be lucky and understood that it is not the aim she/he is searching for or must know, but the right path which must go on, and others who might not be so lucky wander around.
Here, I must thank Al for his genius soul that helped me find the correct answer: Find the right path; that’s all!
It is already known that drugs come from the Orient. And in Iran, it began with Mysticism, as the famous Persian poets drew away because of Arab dominion, and the wine was their salvation. Afterwards, it was opium from China and hashish from Afghan territories.
However, we got know it later in our youth as usually the young people began with it. I was about end of sixteen when I began to smoke cigarettes. And in my rebellion one year later, as I began to know the Hippies world and let my hair grew longer, I got knowing hashish. Actually, I brought Hash to Al because I was more outside and connected to the young society through membership in a music band. I played the drums those days, and mostly, hippies were around.
Later on, smoking hash wasn’t my thing anymore. Al loved it, but I wanted something else, and there I met some young students who smoked opium in an absolute traditional Persian way, and I loved it! Maybe I inherited it from my father as I know he liked to smoke it, even I heard that he was totally high with that when he and my mother put the seed in her womb to make me! Indeed, smoking pure hash has no addiction; opium has an addiction, though more physically than mentally. But heroin, which came later, is essentially causing mental addiction.
Honestly, heroin was and is the devil itself. Believe me, the others are all like childish plays before this. We learned it when we tried LSD. The experts advised that after LSD, one needed some sedative to calm down. Though there are many different LSD: there are primarily so-called speeds which require it, and, as I have experienced, a well-made LSD doesn’t need anything like this. It is though another story! Let’s come back to the devil name heroin; We have used it to calm down the tension after using the pills, even sometimes we took some valium tablets instead. We were still in the mood for LSD. Therefore, we didn’t try it so often. But after we had enough experience with LSD and stopped using it, the topic term: (Now what: how getting high?) remained! In between, we got to know some addicted friends who smoked it every day; two of them became our close friends, and they needed to have a place to smoke. Our mostly empty house was a good place to get high with it; it was the first, pure try: without any tensions caused by LSD; it took us into an intoxicating world; everything was easy and well accessible and lasted some days. Therefore, we agreed at once by a friend’s suggestion to try it again!
And we smoke the devil in our longs; it looked so harmless; after three or four times, you have a creeping in your back, it isn’t aching, it is even pleasant! But the devil calls you, the sniffles are lovely, take a breath!
Sorry guys, but it seems that I am indeed not the professional writer I wished to be; I have to make a pause and see for the second part! It could be and should be the following weekend. Thank you.
I just want to mention my brother, Al, as the most melancholy man ever. Let’s have a good time with The Moody Blues. I will try to write the following memories soon; thanks, lovely friends.
I’m a very lonely man, doing what I can, All the world astounds me and I think I understand That we’re going to keep growing, wait and see…
Tyt! Another mystical sign of the Goddess Isis. A beautiful, magical amulet of life.
The Tjet (Tyet, Tet, Tit, Tat, That, Thet) is also commonly known as the Isis knot or Isis girdle. Some commentators have argued that the symbol was originally a variant of the Ankh also here. It has a similar appearance (except its “arms” are bent downwards) and could also have a similar meaning, sometimes being translated as “life”. As a hieroglyph, it represented the Tjet amulet.
Decoration detail: tomb of prince Khaemwaset, son of Ramses III, in the Queens Valley, Luxor West Bank, Egypt agefotostock
This divine presence was dedicated to Khâemouaset, as we read the story here, thanks to Marie Grillot. 🙏💖
This Tyt, or “knot of Isis” amulet, 7.3 cm high and 3 cm wide, is finely worked in red jasper. The column of hieroglyphs that it bears indicates the name of the deceased to whom it is dedicated: “The great (or the superior) of the craftsmen, the priest-sem (and) son of the king, Khaemouaset”.
Born of Queen Isis-Nofret, Khâemouaset was the fourth son of Ramses II. If he is immortalized near his father on battle scenes in the sovereign’s temples, he will not be destined for a military career. Indeed, by a “paternal” decision – motivated by “political” reasons – he will be appointed to the pontificate of Ptah in Memphis. Thus he will begin very early “his priestly career with the god,” which was mainly for Ramses II “an excellent way to monitor closely and in complete confidence the power of the great theological centres whose riches were also recorded throughout the reign. ” (Christian Leblanc, “Ramses II and the Ramesseum”).
Funerary mask of Prince Khâemouaset – gold – New Kingdom – 19th dynasty
Discovered on his mummy, in 1851, in the “small underground” of the Serapeum in Saqqara by Auguste Mariette
This prince, who became the high priest of Ptah, left the memory of an intelligent and erudite man. “The main originality of Khâemouaset was his extraordinary taste for ancient things. He had the monuments of the Old Kingdom restored at Saqqara, Giza and Abusir”… Among his many actions and reforms, he “modified the mode of burial of bulls Apis at the Serapeum” (Christophe Barbotin, Elisabeth David “The ABCdary of Ramses II”).
It is there, precisely in the “small underground passages”, that Auguste Mariette will discover his tomb by chance, in 1851, among the tombs of the Apis… “it could be that the mummy from which I collected the remains, instead to be that of an Apis, was that of Prince Kha-em-uas himself. Imagine a mummy of human form, destroyed in all its lower parts from the chest. A thick mask of gold covered the face. Around the neck were passed two chains of gold, from one of which three amulets were suspended….” This is one of them… Until now, Egyptologists remain perplexed about this place of burial of the prince because it is not certain that his first tomb was in another place, which would mean that the location where Auguste Mariette found these remains in disorder would rather correspond to a reburial that occurred later. The excavations to be undertaken by the Louvre Museum in this part of the Serapeum may help to solve this enigma.
Amulet Tyt (knot of Isis) from Khâemouaset – red jasper – New Kingdom – 19th dynasty
Discovered on his mummy, in 1851, in the “small underground” of the Serapeum in Saqqara by Auguste Mariette
Department of Egyptian Antiquities of the Louvre Museum – E 2990 B – inventory number: N 759
In “The precious stones of Pharaonic Egypt, the example of the jewels of the Serapeum of Memphis”, Christiane Ziegler thus presents the amulets “Tyt” (“knot of Isis”) whose existence is attested from the Old Kingdom: “In red stone, they often carry an engraved text, in connection with the blood of the goddess Isis. They are in connection with the myth of Osiris, assassinated, then dismembered by his brother Seth, and whose members gathered by his wife Isis will then be reanimated thanks to her magic power”.
Amulet Tyt (knot of Isis) from Khâemouaset – red jasper – New Kingdom – 19th dynasty
Discovered on his mummy, in 1851, in the “small underground” of the Serapeum in Saqqara by Auguste Mariette
published here in Auguste Mariette “Le Sérapéum de Memphis”
Its appearance is difficult to describe, but in “Ancient Egypt and its gods”, Jean-Pierre Corteggiani manages to give this rather evocative image of it: “It has the shape of an ansée cross whose two lateral branches would be flattened loops falling on either side of the vertical branch”. And he recalls that, in the Book of the Dead, the ‘Formula for the Knot-Tyt’ recommends threading it on a thread of sycamore fibre, then placing it around the neck of the mummy on the day of the burial: thus adorned, the deceased is assured, by virtue of the words to be pronounced, that “the magic power of Isis will be the protection of his body”.
This “Knot of Isis” by Khâemouaset entered the Department of Egyptian Antiquities of the Louvre Museum in 1853 by “acquisition sharing after excavations” under the main number: E 2990 B (inventory number: N 759)…
Paul Pierret, Catalog of the Historic Room of the Egyptian Gallery, Paris, 1882, p. 128, No. 539.
Auguste Mariette, The Serapeum of Memphis, Paris, Gide, 1857, p. 15, pl. 20.
Christian Leblanc, Ramses II and the Ramesseum, L’Harmattan, Paris, 2019.
Gods, tombs, a scholar. In Egypt in the footsteps of Mariette Pacha, Boulogne-sur-Mer (External, France), Château-musée, 10/05/2004 – 30/08/2004.
Christophe Barbotin, Elisabeth David, The ABCdary of Ramses II, Flammarion, Paris, 1997.
Christiane Ziegler, The precious stones of Pharaonic Egypt, the example of the jewels of the Serapeum of Memphis, in Bulletin of the National Society of Antiquaries of France, 1996, 1999, pp. 244-251
Jean-Pierre Corteggiani, Ancient Egypt and its gods, Paris, 2007.
Isabelle Franco, Dictionary of Egyptian Mythology, Paris, 2013.
I thought to share my second post with not many words but more illustrated, as the first one was long sayings! Another reason is my better half; my active wife wants to kidnap me again to visit her sister in a small town near Kassel, Germany. Therefore, let’s have a look at the rest of our shivering journey.
The place is one of the rare hilly areas in the almost flat land of Holland. That’s why is known as Bergen (Hills or mountains).
I was once lucky to take a few shots; I thought they were unique somehow.
The Art and Nature are the same!
And finally, we tried one day to drive to Amsterdam. Actually, to see a lot of things, but once you are in the world of Vincent van Gogh, you forget all other items!
And for all the famous flowers:
One thing only bothers me is that I didn’t see the famous “Starry Night”; either it wasn’t there that I couldn’t believe it, or I blindly missed it. Then, let’s listen to the beautiful song by Don McLean.
Small and hidden is the door that leads inward, and the entrance is barred by countless prejudices, mistaken assumptions, and fears. ~Carl Jung, CW 10, Page 154.
As a young man, I knew something about the sensual rituals of India and the Far East but only in passing. But when I broke away from Islam and tried to be an atheist for a short time, I got to know Buddha, which was the best thing that could have happened to me; Philosophical, spiritual welfare with logic!
Later, I learned much more when I began to play on the stage and had to practice Yoga. We had a young teacher (he wasn’t so young as I first thought, he had just succeeded in getting no wrinkles on his face! He later said that this all comes from being aware of the feelings and their effects on one’s outward appearance; always relax!). He explained why we must know Yoga when we want to be an actor: On the stage, he said you must not get out of breath. And with the help of practising it, we can know our bodies which on the stage is very important. I have learned a lot from him, and it still helps me even though on the stage of life.
Anyway, with all this knowings, I came to the West. That was the middle of the 80s, when Bagwan, or Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh with his movement, was highly influential. The first young people (primarily women) whom my brother and I met in Cologne, where we lived for a few years, were all his followers. I don’t want to tell much about this, though it looked to me those days it could be an excellent business for earning more money! These are actually harmless. What surprised me was the way of use or misuse in learning or, much more to say, teaching eastern wisdom. First, it happened when my wife (girlfriend those days) got pregnant and decided to give birth to our child in a yogi way.
She told me that in a small town near our city, there is a maternity clinic, and they do it with the eastern method; Yoga and birth in the bathtub. I happily agreed because I knew it from Iran as some yogis friends were doing it often. After a while, she told me that the chief doctor also teaches Yoga if I’d like to participate there. I went along, maybe not to learn but to check how it might go. It was disappointing! There were no inner feelings, rather more like sporty training. Getting to know the body was not the point, but getting sweaty! I broke it up and went outside.
Interestingly, the doctor wasn’t surprised or curious to know why I did so but looked at me as a spy from the East to find out what kind of fraud he was. Years later, she tried in different groups to practice Yoga; even a newly arrived couple from India led the latest one. But every time she came back from Yoga, she was excited and sometimes even with sore muscles! As I’ve learned, there had to be something wrong with understanding yoga in this country.
Now, if you are still there and are not bored, here are some words by Dr Jung about this issue and some explanations. I love this humble honesty from such a great man.
In his explanation, Dr Jung writes in his book; Dream and Dream Interpretation about Mandalas and their meaning in comparison between the East and the West, which he got the chance; (as he wrote): in 1938, he had an opportunity to meet and speak with a lamaistic Rinpoche, named Lingdam Gomchen in a Monastery of Bhutia Busty (near Darjeeling) about the Mandala (Khilkor). He explained it as a “dmigs-pa” (pronounced migpa), a mental picture (imago mentalis) which can only be constructed by imagination by a trained lama. No mandala is like the other; they are individually different. Also, the mandalas you see in monasteries and temples have no special meaning since they are only external representations. The true mandala is always an inner image, which is gradually constructed by (active) imagination when a disturbance of mental balance or thought cannot be found and must therefore be sought because it is not included in the sacred doctrine.
And further;
There are some texts, such as Shri-Chakra-Sambhara-Tantra,(²), which contain instructions for making the “mental image”. The “khilkor” is strictly separated from the “sidpe-korlo”, the wheel of the world, representing the course of human existence according to the Buddhist view. In contrast to the “khilkor”, the wheel of life consists of a ternary system, namely the rooster = lust, the snake = hate or envy, and the pig = ignorance or unconsciousness (avidya). Here we throw out the dilemma of three and four, which also play a role in Buddhism. We will reencounter this problem as the Dream Series progresses.
The mandalas in their cultic use are of great importance, as their centre usually contains a figure of the highest religious value: either Shiva himself, more often embracing the Shakti, or Buddha, Amitabha, Avalokiteshvara, or one of the great Mahăyăna teachers, or also simply the Dorje, the symbol of all the gathered divine powers of a creative and destructive nature. The text of the “Golden Flower“, which originates from Taoist syncretism, also specifies special “alchemical” properties of this centre in the sense of the “lapis” qualities and those of the “elixir vitae”, i.e. a pharmakon Athanasia.
Knowing this high rating is not insignificant; for it accords with the central meaning of the Individual Mandala Symbols, which possess the same qualities, so to speak, of a “metaphysical” nature – implying, if we are not mistaken, a psychic personality centre which is not identical with the “I”. I have observed these processes and formations for twenty years on a relatively large amount of empirical material. I have neither written nor lectured about it for fourteen years so as not to bias my observations. But when Richard Wilhelm presented me with the “Golden Flower” text in 1929, I decided to publish at least a hint of the results of my observations. One can’t be too careful about these things; because the instinct to imitate, on the one hand, and almost morbid greed, on the other hand, to seize someone else’s feathers and dress up with them in an exotic way tempts all too many people to take up such “magical” motifs and to use them externally like an ointment.
Although this article might be getting longer, I would like to add his simple explanation (or complaint, appeal?) on society and how one must endure all these.
“recognition of the shadow is reason enough for humility, for genuine fear of the abysmal depths in man” (CW 14: par. 452)
Dr Jung; was a Man of Knowledge, although with Awareness of his Humility.
You do everything, even the most absurd, to escape from your own Soul. One practices Indian Yoga of any observance, observes dietary laws, learns theosophy by heart, prays mystical texts from all of world literature – everything because one does not get along with oneself and lacks any belief that anything worthwhile could come from one’s own Soul. So, gradually the Soul has become that Nazareth from which nothing good can reach, which is why one fetches it from all four winds: the further back and the more unusual, the better. I don’t want to disturb such people in their favourite activities; Still, if someone who wants to be taken seriously, and also is just as delusional and thinks that I use yoga methods and yoga teachings, and possibly have let mandalas drawn to lead my patients to the “right point”, then I have to protest and accuse these people of reading my writings with an almost culpable inattention. The teaching that all evil thoughts come from the heart and that the human Soul is the vessel of all evil must be deeply rooted in these people. If that were the case, then a god would have done a sad job of creation, and then it would really be high time to switch to Markion, the Gnostic, and give the incompetent Demiurge the jolt. However, it is ethically exceedingly convenient to leave the sole care of such an idiot children’s home to God, where no one can put the spoon in their own mouth. Man is worth taking care of himself and has in his own Soul from which something can become. (wie Meister Eckhart sagt; „ez ist zemale inne, niht uze, sunder allez inne“ {Deutsche Mystiker, hrsg, von Pfeiffer, 1845/57, Bd, 2, S. 8,37.} (As I could understand Meister Eckhart’s saying so far, it means: It is all one inner, not ours but all internal one.)
It is worth patiently observing what is happening in the Soul in silence; the most and the best happens if it is not regulated from outside and above. I’ll gladly admit it: I have such high regard for what happens in the human Soul that I would shy away from disturbing and creating the quiet workings of nature with clumsy access. That’s why in this case, I even gave up my own observation and entrusted this task to a beginner who was not burdened by my knowledge, just so as not to disturb. The results I present are the pure, conscientious, and accurate introspection of a man of undeterred intellect who never wanted to show off and not be boasted about. True connoisseurs of psychic materials will therefore see without difficulty the unity and immediacy of the results.
From Traum und Traumdeutung (Dream and Dream interpretation), The dream symbol the individuation process; Mandalasymbolic.
Although the title is from a classic film from 1956, I thought it fits here with my story. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I ever could tell this story; it may be because of my idiotic behaviour at that moment. But today, as I accompany the Earth’s rotation around the sun for sixty-eighth times, and with the help of a few sips of my favourite whiskey, I gather the courage to do it.
This story is about a miracle! Do you believe in miracles? I do, as I have experienced it throughout my life several times. I don’t want to tell them all, just an example: it happened in my school days; I was circa eleven or twelve years old. One day, I had forgotten to bring my school assignment, which I had to give the teacher in the afternoon. It was still early in the morning that I noticed it was missing. Therefore, during the break in class, I ran home (about less than one Km) to get it, but nobody was at home. My mother was out at work, and I hadn’t the key to get in. I tried with every window may one could be open with no success. I just stood there in the yard and began to pray! Suddenly I heard a noise; I looked up and saw a window opening mysteriously, and I could get in. I really don’t know what happened, but I could get back to the school with my papers.
Now I will tell you the new one; it happened some weeks ago, on a hot summer day when I was at work (driving my taxi), and it was a lot of orders to carry out. I have to mention that on this day I wanted to visit the bank and throw some money into my account and early in the morning before I began to work, as I was in a hurry, I took all my papers (inc. saving book and all the cash) which I always keep together in a packet, and pushed them in my fanny bag. It was around midday that I needed terribly to jump on any toilet, and as I was in a hotel taking some bags for transporting, I asked for the bathrooms.
Anyway, long story short, I did my job and hurriedly came along to continue my work. Several hours later in the afternoon, I was taking a customer to the train station as I thought I had a pause after this and I could get to the bank that suddenly I noticed I had no fanny bag on my belly! I was shocked; it looked like a nightmare. I told myself; just keep calm and think about where I left it. The answer came soon: in the hotel’s damn toilet. I immediately called my colleague who knew the employees in the hotel to ask them if they had found the bag, and I continued working. He called me back to say that no bag was found!
I am lost! I thought I had to get to the hotel personally to search for it. But there was still a lot to do. The only way for me was to keep calm and concentrated, not cause an accident until to get a chance to drive there. This period was, for me, very exhausting.
Various thoughts were passing through my mind. I was becoming angrier and angrier at myself; why the hell I wasn’t careful when I knew I had so many worthy things inside it? I tried to remember what could be in the bag and noticed that it was all I had; every vital piece of paper man could need to live in this bureaucratic world! Don’t lose your hope, I said. I remember through my many years working, I have found twice such a big briefcase full of money and gave them to the police to find the owner, and thought; I had to be redeemed then! I’ve called all the ghosts, including my brother Al, my father, and my mother; please, help me!
In the late evening, when I finished working, I drove to the hotel. The hotelier told me sadly that nothing had been found. I might convince myself. I looked everywhere and even asked the cleaning service who couldn’t speak German! But nothing. It is lost, I said to myself. What an idiot finds a bag full of money and gives it back? And I drove to the bank to block my account. But it wasn’t so easy! I had to call the emergency to secure my account. I have tried three times but strangely without success. I gave it up and drove home. But before I got out of the car rang my phone; it was the hotelier, saying I have the fanny bag; I think it is yours; I’ll look inside it if I am allowed. There are a lot of things in it; I think it is yours!! Allegedly someone had seen it in the toilet, took it, and left it on the counter behind a plate. Then I thought, There is somebody up there who likes me!
In ancient times, the lotus flower was significant in their religion. Meaning creation and rebirth symbolised the sun because at nightfall, it closes and goes beneath the water, and at dawn, it climbs up above the water and reopens. And for Egyptians, the lotus represented rebirth.
On the other hand, the Egyptians were very musicians (especially women) and music lovers. Therefore, when we add something intoxicating like wine with the colour blue, it would be a perfect ceremony! Indeed, the beauties of nature have some undeniable connection to each other, and here is no exception.
The blue lotus flower looks almost fan-like across many images found in tomb paintings, papyrus scrolls, sculptures, and even headdresses. It has also been revealed that they (lotus flowers) can produce heavy intoxication when steeped in wine. This explains the bottles wrapped in the flowers painted into scenes. Over three days or so, the wine’s chemical make-up is changed by the flowers brewing it. The wine is then drunk, and the benefits are experienced! Psy Minds
Now, let’s see what we have here: A beautiful musician, music and an open lotus in a blue wine jar. It couldn’t be better! With heartfelt thanks to Marie Grillot for introducing this precious find.
Cup with a lute player – earthenware with black design – Reign of Amenhotep III Rijksmuseum van Oudheden, Leiden, AD 14 by acquisition from the Giovanni Anastasi Collection, 1828 – museum photo
This delicate blue earthenware cup, 4.5 cm high and 14 cm in diameter, tells a story… which can be interpreted according to one’s sensibilities…
In 1840, Conradus Leemans saw in it, laconically, “the image of a woman kneeling in a cradle and playing the guitar “… But, looking more closely at this fine and harmonious drawing traced in black, one can “read” a lot more about the character, its environment and the induced symbolism…
This lute player appears faithful to the representations of some of her colleagues found on the walls of Theban tombs…
She is sitting on her right leg folded under her, while the left is slightly raised. Her nudity reveals her slender body, the tip of a breast, the delicate curve of the hips, and the hollow of the navel. A lovely belt – probably of pearls – girds her waist, hiding the top of the pubis.
Beneath her right arm, positioned behind her, is the sound box of her lute. The long handle of the instrument, which is adorned with two ties ending in elegant pendants that intersect, is held horizontally by her left arm. The hands represented somewhat schematically are thus free to move on the strings and play the melody… There is a delicious detail: in the hollow of each elbow is a lotus stem, in button on one side, in bloom on the other…
Cup with a lute player – earthenware with black design – Reign of Amenhotep III Rijksmuseum van Oudheden, Leiden, AD 14 by acquisition from the Giovanni Anastasi Collection, 1828 – museum photo
The musician reveals a beautiful profile, typically Egyptian, illuminated by a stretched eye surrounded by kohol. Her tripartite wig of heavy black hair is adorned with a floral headband. It is held by two wavy ties that seem to float at the back of her head, while in front, near the ointment cone, an open lotus flourishes.
Her hair reveals an earring and, around her neck, hangs a necklace with two rows of pearls…
On her thigh, we notice a tattoo in the image of the god Bès. This bearded and grotesque dwarf, revered for his protective role, notably knew how to appease evil spirits with his music, playing the harp or the tambourine while sketching a dance step…
Behind her, leaning forward towards her lower back, a small monkey, as charming as it is amusing, seems to want to grab her belt…
The large and soft cushion on which she is seated occupies the lower part of the bowl. They leave from both sides by opening out, on the whole, the circumference of the vegetable stems that end up joining. This lush vegetation thus gives the impression that the musician is placed under an arbour… For Arielle P. Kozloff (Amenophis III, the sun pharaoh): “The scene is framed by two poles ending in a lotus on one side and by a papyrus on the other”. For the Rijksmuseum van Oudheden in Leiden, where the cup is exhibited under the reference AD 14, “the young girl is seated under an arbour with bunches of grapes”.
Cup with a lute player – earthenware with black design – Reign of Amenhotep III Rijksmuseum van Oudheden, Leiden, AD 14 by acquisition from the Giovanni Anastasi Collection, 1828
Thus, for the RMO, this particular environment combined with “the presence of the mischievous monkey faithful companion of Bès, as well as the image of Bès, who was also the god of drunkenness, indicate that the bowl was intended to drink wine “…
Therefore, the “Festive” context for this artefact dated from the reign of Amenhotep III and, more precisely – according to Arielle P. Kozloff – from the end, as specific details of the female anatomy suggest: “The elongated torso, the very slight sagging of his flank and the fold under the umbilicus “…
If no information is known on its “antique” provenance, we know that, at the beginning of the 19th century, this cup ended up in the hands of Giovanni Anastasi. According to the “Who Was Who in Egyptology”, he was then: “one of the essential merchants in Egypt, acting as Swedish-Norwegian consul-general in Egypt, 1828-57; in addition to his commercial activities, he carried on an extensive trade in antiquities, employing agents to buy from inhabitants of Saqqara and Thebes; He sold a large collection of 5,600 coins to the Dutch Government in 1828 for 230,000 francs; another was sold in London at the British Museum in 1839, and a third (1129 lots) was auctioned in Paris from June 23 to 27, 1857”.
This is how, since 1828, the pretty musician has charmed visitors to the Rijksmuseum van Oudheden in Leiden…
Kate Bosse-Griffiths, Two Lute-Players of the Amarna Era, The Journal of Egyptian Archaeology, Vol. 66 (1980), p. 70-82 https://www.jstor.org/stable/3856391
Who Was Who in Egyptology, Bierbier, M., London: Egypt Exploration Society
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