Did you happen to watch Conspiracy, that fantastic 2001 movie? It's on Amazon Prime. Here's the script: http://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/movie_script.php?movie=conspiracy

There's a part at the end that so applies to where we might be now:

What was the story
you were going to tell me?
- Story?
- Kritzinger.
Yes, he told me a story about a man
he'd known all his life, a boyhood friend.
This man hated his father.
Loved his mother fiercely.
The mother was devoted to him...
...but the father beat him, demeaned him,
disinherited him.
Anyway, this boy grew to manhood and
was still in his 30s when the mother died...
...this mother who had nurtured
and protected him.
She died.
The man stood as they lowered
her casket and tried to cry...
...but no tears came.
The man's father lived to old age,
died when the son was in his 50s.
At the father's funeral,
much to his son's surprise...
...he could not control his tears.
He was wailing, sobbing.
He was apparently inconsolable.
Lost, even.
That was the story Kritzinger told me.
I don't understand.
The man had been driven his whole life
by hatred of his father.
When the mother died, that was a loss.
When the father died...
...when the hate had lost its object...
...then the man's life was empty.
That was Kritzinger's warning.
What? That we should not hate
the [your enemy / bad thing here]?
No, that it should not so fill our lives...
...that when they are gone,
we have nothing left to live for.
So says the story.

Conspiracy (2001) Movie Script | SS


Carl Jung

7 planets, 7 notes, 7 colors leaves us arguing is it blue or green.

That we (actually) see spectrum by its inherent energy isn't so surprising. Quanta. Bursts of change. (Though transformation can be sticky. So many variables. Shades and shadow. Bring me my individuation toolkit, James.) Thus, the model of the sudden aha between separate beings trying to share thought, or even a single mind grasping suddenly what was so elusive, isn't so very strange.

And that understanding becomes tool as well as filter. Light can be blinding.

But "cause", "effect" -- these are time and space bound, as is even the extrapolated idea of "creator" (with all its good /evil baggage). Because time and space are properties of (at one with) matter.

Being in the body is contingent on these circumstances.... though imagination can pierce that circumference. Perhaps.

Jung spoke about and from the human experience. Which is all we know or can know. Science and Art provide us with suspicions beyond this filter. Jung was simply applying these tools to the mind, taking the physician's toolkit (biology, physics) beyond mere flesh.

Hard, dissecting a living being.


an interstitial aside

elvis costello says you have to learn to write in the dark so you won't forget what comes to you there. my legal pad this a.m. said:


The Ascent / Eros Psychopompos

For one who looks at Beauty in the only way that Beauty can 
be seen—only then will it become possible for him to give birth 
(tiktein) not to images of virtue—because he’s in touch with no 
images—but to true virtue—because he is in touch with true 
Beauty. And being theophiles (god-loved/god-loving) belongs 
to anyone who has given birth to true virtue and nourished it, 
and if any human being could become immortal, it would be 
this one.  ~Diotima in The Symposium

Evans, Nancy in Hypatia, Volume 21, Number 2, Spring 2006, pp. 1-27


"we are all broken images of that which is seen when the mind stands still" ~Joseph Campbell
Masks of Oriental Gods: Symbolism of Kundalini Yoga


Without my dark

Without my dark, 
you would have no desires. 
No strengths in your urges, ambitions, or achievements.


as far as longing can reach

The common view of the pre-Socratic philosophers is that they stand at the beginning of Greek (and therefore Western) rationalism and science.





At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance. 
~T.S.Eliot Burnt Norton