“To this day, ‘God’ is the name by which I designate all things which cross my willful path violently and recklessly, all things which upset my subjective views, plans and intentions, and change the course of my life for better or for worse.”
-- C. G. Jung
Confusion is seen as a mistake, even a madness. In truth, our potential for psychological growth reveals itself in moments of disruption. The gift of confusion must be honored to clear a space in your life for something new to claim you.
“Hell goes round and round. In shape it is circular and by nature it is interminable, repetitive and very nearly unbearable.”
– Flann O’Brien
Years ago I began looking into the bewildering plethora of TRUTHS that the modern world lays out for a guileless youth. I grew up an unquestioning Baptist youth taking everything that my wonderful Grandmother poured out to me in her story telling love. How could one question such an outpouring of love and devotion? But predictably, I came to the age when I did question and I began a search through every religion I could lay my hungry hands on for something to BELIEVE. My youthful organ of BELIEF was very raw and gullible, but it did have its natural faculty of discernment.
I was dazzled by the Catholic Mass, awed by a Jewish Synagogue, puzzled by a Christian Science temple, startled by a Yoga teacher, impressed by a somber Presbyterian church, swept off my feet by the glittering promises of a Parmahansa Yogananda temple, hopeful at the Christian Science view, respectful at a Unitarian Church, even touched by a
Swedenborgian Church* - and finally settled down to the good sense middle way of the Episcopal Church. Even here I was not quite sure between Low Church and High Church, but settled on a Low Church congregation. Settled, yes, but I
often went to the big Catholic Church near by just to soak in the delicious pageantry of the Mass. I was ensconced in the Episcopal church and remain in its fold to this day.
As if all this was not bewildering enough for a youth, I had taken my first job as organist and choirmaster of a large Protestant church called the First Christian Church of Portland Oregon.
All of these came down in a clattering crash within a year as my job disillusioned me of church organizations and my approaching adulthood brought a sharp faculty of discrimination to bear on the whole subject.
There followed the most painful and dangerous period of my life, a time so torn with conflicts that I still marvel that I survived it. A Jungian therapist taught me some truths I could believe, salvaged me from that painful time bordering on disaster - and gave me the beginning of a profession.
Out of all that mess I remember one issue that still claims me; that is the teachings of Parmahansa Yogananda. Those teachings were far past the possible limits of belief, but they were so delicious that I refused to relinquish them into the fairy tale realm which they resembled. Life is too somber and dry if I have to give up Grandmother and her fairy tales along with Parmahansa Yogananda, but my discriminating faculty would not allow either one.
Page by thirty years of reasonably workable life that have little to do with the present subject - my year in Zurich under the watchful eye of Carl Jung, later study with Toni Sussman in London, England, years of experience as a Jungian Analyst, settled roots in Southern California. These were good and stable things in my life, but two profoundly deep roots unfulfilled, followed me. Carl Jung settled one of them; he taught me the art of discrimination of levels and how to hear Fairy Tales on a LEVEL appropriate to them. Fairy tales ( and Grandmothers also) are powerful TRUTHS if one obeys the art of LEVELS to understand them. No one can negociate a modern life and avoid schizophrenia without the art of LEVELS firmly in place.
The remaining unlived stream of life, unexplainable but indelible, was India and its yoga and reincarnation and promises of realms far beyond present possibilities.. Parmahansa Yogananda had left me with a hunger for something that was totally impossible, a complete collision of realities. unfathomable but indelible. Later I read a quote from Dr. Jung who was asked to read THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A YOGI by Parmahansa and he labeled it "Pure Coconut Oil". Well, yes it is; but I refuse to let loose of it's genius even so.
Time came for me to bring these two opposites into collision to see what I can do with these two manifestations of TRUTH. I went to India, not just once, but twenty times, a three month trip every winter for twenty years, to search out this collision in me! I have a workable solution now, but the paradox is still in me. How does one survive a collision of a direct crash between outer non-truth and inner longing that is so strong as to be vital? The answer, so far as I have accomplished it, lies again in the art of LEVELS.
I can best explain this by an event in my own life: A teacher asked twelve-year-old Peter Nelson in his class, "Is there anyone here who still believes in Santa Claus?""Yes", replied Peter; Teacher "You really believe in Santa Claus?" Peter, "Yes, --- inside." So Peter articulated the answer to an unanswerable dilemma: Yes, Santa exists, if you are sure of your levels.
To find out more about Jerry M. Ruhl and Robert A. Johnson, click on a link to their website, below:
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