Hades & Sirens.
Equanimity [is] the ability to view even the tempestuous events of one’s life with an evenness of mind and temper, undisturbed by agitating emotion and the pressing, unmediated attentions of specters of the psyche who will never be satisfied.
~ Michael Goldberg*
lent, week 5
No journey is complete without at least one, and usually several, visits to Hades. Under Circe’s guidance, Odysseus travels next to the nether regions where the dead reside, and as he discovers, this is a place where souls are tormented, not by hellfire but by their unrelenting regrets. “Traumatized, they can’t let go, and they can’t move on. ‘A trauma,’ writes psychoanalyst Adam Phillips, ‘is whatever there is in a person’s experience that resists useful redescription.’”* And this is one of the great tests we all face on our Long Journey Home.
Every human has been victimized, willfully and accidentally, some injuries manageable, others devastating. Many cannot find a way to “redescribe” these sufferings and remain trapped in their own personal Hades as a result. This is where a skilled counselor is irreplaceable to help us heal, forgive, and relocate our sufferings inside a redemptive narrative.
This dark side of the Enneagram Four energy continues beyond the underworld as Odysseus sails past the infamous Sirens, half-bird and half-woman, whose irresistible song scuttles many a ship. Their song is not malicious per se; instead, it gives voice to our greatest sorrows and most private anguish. On Circe’s advice, he puts wax in the ears of all his sailors so they can hold a steady course, but tied to the mast, he listens and grieves and survives.
The bright side of the Four energy is to weave the poignancy of life’s sorrows into the most beautiful art. Indeed, it is doubtful that the creative spark can rise into flame without sorrow (which speaks to its essential place in the human voyage). We must face our pain, voice our regrets and those unlived parts of us; we must let them tell their story and acknowledge what has been lost… in order to let them go. If we become consumed by them, we will indeed shipwreck. But if we can hold our joys and our sorrows together, if we can reconcile and integrate them into a story of hope, then we are equipped for the next stage of our journey home.
We are roughly half way through Lent. How’s it going? What have you learned so far? What still feels necessary to uncover or process? We encouraged—no matter how perilous the voyage, we will come safely home. We will find resurrection on the other side of every death! This story has a good ending and so does yours.
growing your soul
Be strong enough to name your greatest sorrow. Now place that grief into the loving hands of Christ and be comforted in the divine embrace. Even the most grievous loss will be redeemed. This hope is our birthright.
serving our world
Paul encourages us that our shared sufferings are mystically connected to resurrection power (Phil 3:10). This is part of the beauty of bearing one another’s burdens (Gal 6:2). Whose are you helping to carry?
takeaway
Name your pain… and release it.
*Michael Goldberg, Travels With Odysseus. I’m taking much of my inspiration in this series from his book. I recommend it!