QUIS HIC LOCUS, QUAE REGIO, QUAE MUNDI PLAGA?
from ‘Marina’, a poem by T.S. Eliot
There is an infinite aspect of our being which knows more about us than we do. Writers who converse with themselves are lights flickering in liminality. This passage urges them to progress to wholeness and safety in a world which does not proffer absolutes. Many adhere to structures like time and conventional morality. Writers will risk unhinging these to engage in introspection.
The sacred is similar to an orchestral composition whereby the accompaniments align into synchronistic harmony. This dislodges the pervious interior movement of the psyche, or the soul or even God. This can be interpreted to mean the core or true self, which desires us to stretch or fan its natural and relational potential like the splayed branches of a tree.
Writing is a dialog with this Self which challenges the false self or the constructed ego. Wholeness begins to form when contact has been made with the sacred. The ego functions instrumentally rather than as an obstruction and the Self rises like the string or umbilical cord of a kite in the wind.
Writing is a reconciliation of tensions beneath conscious awareness, so thoughts, feelings or ideas which are initially located may assemble very differently by the end of the page. What is written can never be wrong, because what emerges spontaneously from the psyche always tines towards a purposeful direction. What we believe may be an error or a slip will be pregnant with meaning and serves as a providential knot because untwisting it reveals some aspect of our lives we were once unaware of.
Intuitive writers float between conscious and unconscious worlds. They communicate between the two realms and understand there is no fixed or finite reality. Physical reality is only a slither of what is and what our senses limit us to. The sacred world is non-spatiotemporal. It is a layered and webbed sea made of gossamer – very delicate and seemingly ephemeral.
What is under our skin remains whether we distract ourselves from it or not. It may slide under consciousness, but it will never disappear. It can only be resolved, and writing, being a personal, idiosyncratic and patient process, enables us to grasp these spiritual aspects of ourselves.
Therapeutic writing serves to bind our loosened ties to unite our own being which, in turn, can untie generations of complexes. We are not just one being but one part of a natural jigsaw. Every thought or feeling results in particular tendencies which affect others we are most closely related to. These gradually vibrate like waves radiating into the wider world. Writing is a way of catalysing the sacred in preparation for the potential of those after us.
Interacting with the world without introspection results in a dissociation from the sacred. It is like arranging the branches of a tree and realizing too late, that you have no trunk, roots or the ground to grow from.
Annie Blake’s research aims to exfoliate branches of psychoanalysis. She enjoys semiotics and exploring the surreal and phantasmagorical nature of unconscious material. Her work is best understood when interpreting them like dreams. She is a member of the C G Jung Society of Melbourne. You can visit her on annieblakethegatherer.blogspot.com.au and https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100009445206990.