Tag Archives: recapitulation

A Day in a Life: The Self In Recapitulation

March 28, 2012 Jan Leave a comment

What does it mean to do a recapitulation and how do you start? These are some of the questions that people ask. In my experience, recapitulation, when approached from a clinical point of view, isn’t something you do, it’s something that comes to you and takes you on a journey. It’s something that you know you just cannot avoid any longer. It’s your spirit urging you to finally face what has been eating away at your insides your whole life. It’s your fragmented self stating the obvious, that it’s tired of running and hiding, of playing the old games, dodging the truth. The truth hurts, it tells you, but this is hurting more, so let’s stop now, let’s do it differently.

So, how do you start? You answer the call. You say: Okay, I’m ready to find out who I am. I’m ready to find out what it is that won’t let me rest, that won’t let me live and love in a calm and balanced way, totally present, totally accepting of all that comes to me, totally allowing me to be me.

Photo by Jan — We may indeed feel as if we are suspended in a tree one day, flying high with clear insight as we recapitulate...

Taisha Abelar, a cohort of Carlos Castaneda, was suspended from a tree during part of her recapitulation, tied up and left to deal with her unconscious and its onslaughts. Later she moved into a tree house in the same tree and lived alone there for months, learning to climb and swing from the branches of this tree that became her home for the duration of her recapitulation. Everything she needed was contained within the container of Self in containment in that tree.

In taking up the process of recapitulation we don’t necessarily need to be tied into a tree. Our psyches have a way of making sure we get what we need, however, some sort of containment is needed. And just how our psyches will work with us will be unique to each of us. Some days we may feel like we are indeed suspended from a tree and other days it may feel as if we are inside a dark cave, another favorite location the Shamans took full advantage of during recapitulation. Containment and learning how to sit with the tension of our inner world is part of the process. As the process naturally unfolds we learn patience, which comes over time, as we practice bearing that tension within containment.

The most important step, as Chuck wrote about in his blog last week, is establishing an adult self to ground us and take the journey with us, an adult self to sit beside the child self, in containment, and explain what is really happening. This is where the first sense of balance is established—inside the self—with a sort of parent self who can plant its feet firmly in reality, set down roots, and outline some rules of engagement. This is the self that knows that some limitations and boundaries are necessary if progress is to be made, like the parent who knows that the kid in you won’t be in a good mood tomorrow if it doesn’t get enough sleep. This is the parent who knows what your life is really like and how you tend to handle things or don’t. This is also the parent who knows how you react when you get scared or triggered.

All of our parts engage in recapitulation, but this parent self has a major role. It lets us know how important it is to set some limits and establish some boundaries to handle the past as it comes flying up to greet us. It knows that it’s going to not only be helpful as we begin our recapitulation, but absolutely necessary. These limits and boundaries will work in many ways, at first in keeping the fragmented self safe while memories come. These limits and boundaries will also be present to let some new ideas and new energy in, in amounts that we can handle. These limits and boundaries extend inward, challenging deeply embedded ideas of the self that must be allowed simultaneous protection and release. These limits and boundaries will challenge us by keeping us safe sometimes and confronting us at others, both supporting and failing us as appropriate, as we go through our recapitulation. These limits and boundaries, as I found out, may at first be well established, firmly entrenched adult patterns of behavior learned from others, from our own parents for instance.

My adult self was pretty much always in control. Firmly established at a young age, she dominated. She was a combination of my own two parents, her responses to life mimicking theirs. I took in, as we are programmed to do, what I saw in my parents. My father, once a free spirit, was dampened by fear and duty later in life. However, he didn’t lose his extraverted desire to be in the world, to get ahead, to always be one step ahead of the next guy until middle age. Before then he was always in a hurry, eager to engage life. Having suffered polio as a young child, his leg never healing properly, he could not run, but that did not stop him from giving the impression that he was always running. What he was running from I never knew, but I somehow understood that you ran from things. And so I took on this characteristic of his and ran too, in more ways than one.

My mother was the opposite of my father. Introverted and withdrawn, she rarely engaged the world. She let him do that while she retreated behind her books, judgments, and intellect. Rational and unsentimental, her boundaries were solid and impenetrable. From observing her, I saw that withdrawing from the world was the way to be, as much as running was. I took on my mother’s protective shell. I watched her retreat from the world, and, although I had no idea why, I knew it was a world of great fear. This was easy to intuit. I became fearful because my parents, in each of their own ways, showed me that the world was a frightening place. I also encountered my own reasons for fear. And so, what my parents taught me about the world proved true and their behaviors, learned at a very young age, served me well for a long time.

In the beginning of my recapitulation, my adult self was much like my parents. Her spirits dampened by fear, she was stern and judgmental. Frightened of everything, she preferred remaining safe in the ways that had always worked. She ran for miles each day, staying attached to an unrelenting code of discipline, running from what she knew not, and then she retreated for the rest of the day, until the next morning when she’d get up and begin again. Day after day, year after year, she used this method to maintain balance, shoring herself up and then shutting herself in.

As the recapitulation progressed, this adult self began to soften, to let things in and let things out in ways that she never would have or could have as her previous self. Holed up within the container of self, she began to see how her own actions had the possibility of negatively affecting her own children. She saw how we inherit not only our genes but everything else from our parents and the world we grow up in. She had to face that what she had inherited did not necessarily belong to her or sit right with her. She also had to face that she was indeed just like her parents.

Thus recapitulation, at this point, entered a new phase of change. With this clarity, the old self began breaking down, along with the rules and regulations placed on the old self by life and circumstance, and a new process of trying on new ideas and a new self began. It literally felt like my clothes didn’t fit anymore, my body didn’t move the same way; my brain reverberated and vibrated constantly as it literally let go of old ideas and attempted to assimilate new concepts of how life works. As new life was experienced outwardly, in the world I lived in, everything changed yet again.

(To be continued next week…)

Still journeying, and always humbly grateful for the opportunity,

Jan

Chuck's Blog

Chuck’s Place: Recapitulation As A Rite of Initiation

March 23, 2012 Chuck Leave a comment

The purpose of initiation is to provide a viable bridge for crossing from one stage of self to another. The child, who must become an adult, must be released from a deep instinctual longing for symbiotic comfort and fully move forward into adult fulfillment.

If that deep instinctual longing is not transformed into adult aims, what ensues, as we move through the life cycle, is a splintering of self. That uninitiated, splintered self, with no clear bridge to cross, is left to deal with its fragments as best it can as it stumbles forward, unprepared, into adult life. Of necessity, a present self, an adult self of sorts, will be forged, charged with adapting to the flow and expectations of everyday life. Denied, splintered parts of the self will take up residence in the background of the psyche, separate selves with separate needs, islands of discontent and protest, creating disturbance in the great sea of the self.

Indigenous human ancestors performed initiation rites to safely transport youth into full-fledged adulthood, thus creating a definite bridge between childhood and adult life. These rites forced the initiate into ritual sacrifice that consisted of some form of wounding, be it circumcision, a solo journey, or other form of transformative encounter. Survivors of the ordeal were then welcomed back into the community, in adult roles now, never to return to their childhood homes. Through a deeply meaningful process, longing was transformed into love and protection of the greater community and finding a mate to create one’s own nuclear family.

Collective initiation rites have long since faded from the human landscape. Modern humans are largely left to their own devices to navigate through major life transitions. Recapitulation is such a device to successfully traverse life changes. Through recapitulation we gather up the multiplicity of our splintered selves, take a ritual solo journey, and launch a united self into life’s fulfillment.

Recapitulation, like all initiation rites, incorporates sacrifice. In recapitulation the present self enters the world of the younger self and bears witness to and personally experiences the feelings, physical sensations, needs and confusions of its splintered self.

The most important task of the recapitulation process is for the adult self to be fully present, to take the journey without judgment, as the truths of life lived are revealed in intimate detail. Sometimes the process unfolds slowly, in piecemeal recall; at other times in rapid-fire reliving, like a labor that can’t be stopped until the total experience is fully birthed.

The ability of the adult self to remain fully present with the younger self through the contractions of this birthing process allows the defensive structures that held back secrets and maintained separation to be dismantled once and for all—they are no longer necessary.

The deepest needs of the splintered self are met through the stable presence of the adult self. No matter what shape that adult self is in, it must remain firmly present, even though it must also face the same fear, shame, anger, hatred, etc. that the younger self encounters as it relives its experiences. As the adult self reencounters experiences alongside the younger self, it must constantly reassert its present state of knowing, maintaining balanced awareness of the two worlds it must navigate through. It must bring to bear tools and guidance that the younger self did not have available, constantly reasserting its mature knowledge of how the world and the psyche work.

As the younger self faces the past head on, the adult self aids the process as the journey unfolds, gradually growing in acceptance of and love for the younger self and the journey taken. Eventually, this integration process of acceptance and love extends to loving and caring for the present adult self as well. Thus, the energy and aims of the younger self are allowed to be born and integrated into the evolving whole of the present self, manifesting in real life changes of attitude, appearance, and behavior. This is change. This is transformation. We are then freed, a new present adult self fully ready to take up the task of living our unlived life. This is recapitulation launching us into individuation, wholeness, and fulfillment.

This ancient practice of recapitulation is fully available in modern times, but in contrast to the collective initiation rites of our ancestors, it can only be done on an individual basis. Who else could recapitulate my life but me?

Though others can facilitate and support, the process of becoming whole requires taking a journey of assimilation within the self. And that assimilation requires a mature present self willing to embrace and endure the full process, as the truth of the self is revealed.

In the recapitulating of past woundings the adult self goes through the necessary initiation to cross the bridge into fuller adulthood and fuller responsibility for life lived and life yet to unfold. This endurance of old woundings is the sacrifice necessary to free the stifled energy of splintered selves into finding real life in the evolving wholeness of the present self.

In taking the solo journey to assimilation we free ourselves to fully live in this lifetime, as caring, loving individuals, and we have no idea what that might mean until we are there, living it!

Chuck

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: Petty Tyrants & The Quiet One Within

March 21, 2012 Jan Leave a comment

Art and Photo by Jan — Petty tyrants come in many forms.

Petty Tyrants come in many forms and present us with many disturbing quandaries. I recently faced a petty tyrant, not a person I had perceived as such before, and it took me a few days to realize that I had been challenged very deeply. My petty tyrant ascertained that I must, of course, feel a certain way.

“No, actually, I don’t feel that way at all,” I responded. But almost immediately a small voice inside me posed a question. “Am I doing something wrong?” it wanted to know, and a feeling that I’m not doing life properly set in. I’m a disappointment. I’m bad. I don’t uphold certain conventions of family, of relationship, the structures of society that are often perceived as so proper and utterly necessary: this is how things are done and if you don’t uphold these standards then something is wrong with you. I was uncomfortable in that moment. A shadow descended and stayed with me for days before I finally realized that a petty tyrant had come into my midst.

A petty tyrant, according to the Seers of Ancient Mexico, is anyone or thing that makes us question ourselves, makes us angry, puts us on the defensive, affronts us or makes us feel foolish, diminished, unworthy. They come to fool with us, to challenge us, and to ask us to face our true selves. Unfathomed by boundaries they slip into our lives and wreak havoc, wrecking our staunch perceptions of the world. Judging, condescending, and selfish, they criticize us and pummel our egos.

In psychological terms, a petty tyrant bears our projections; our deepest issues and fears are placed on another, while we unconsciously ask them to carry them for us. In turn we may despise this other person, find fault with them, disagree with them, and overall find their company disturbing and uncomfortable.

We can stay attached to our petty tyrants for years. We begin our lives with them, in our parents, our teachers, our siblings, our childhood friends and foes. Often they follow us into adulthood, deeply embedded inside us. Along for the ride they find new residence in others we meet and interact with, in those we marry and have relationships with.

In my book, The Man in the Woods, book one of The Recapitulation Diaries, I write of my process of facing the petty tyrants that had haunted and controlled me far into adulthood. I confronted not only people but also ideas, thoughts, and beliefs that had been ingrained in the natural process of growing up in the family and society I encountered during childhood.

Later, in adulthood, with those conventions still active, I lived steeped in great inner conflict. Uncertain as to what was so wrong with me, I nonetheless knew that I was deeply wounded. However, I could not allow myself to attach much significance to that deep inner truth, for I had been taught that it was selfish to even think about the self in any way. Time and thoughts were meant to be utilized in the rational world, in being part of an external world that I found deeply disturbing.

It was not until I faced the disturbing world inside myself that I was finally able to release myself from that disturbing outer world that I just could not find a foothold in. Through recapitulating everything about myself, by allowing myself to be selfish enough to do deep inner exploration, I found my way through a myriad of false impressions and beliefs. Fully conscious, I faced and did battle with all manner of petty tyrants during my recapitulation. I reconnected with my inner spirit, the quiet one within, who had been calling to me for decades, asking me to find her again and live her life, a life of individuality and freedom, open to a far greater world than the conventional, rational, fearful one I had grown up in.

I think I did a pretty good job of recapitulating, so that when I recently found myself being challenged to react in an expected way, I immediately recoiled. “No, I don’t think that way at all!” But in the next second I found myself stumbling before this mighty view of reality. I faltered in the face of expectation that, of course, I would give the correct, pat answer, that I would agree, conventional boundaries upheld, the world as it should be, undisturbed.

In the second that I stumbled, I became inarticulate, and the inner child self immediately stepped in and asked that old question, “Oh dear, am I bad? Am I heartless, cold and unfeeling because I don’t think like that anymore?”

Now I see that I was set up to confront the decisions I make every day as I continue my journey. I have been offered such freedom as I have shed old world structures and ideas that I no longer believe in or care to uphold. No, I was being challenged to more firmly realize just how committed I am to my path.

For a short while my foot wavered as I lifted it, ready to take my next step. Where would I put it down? Would I let it fall back in an old world, simply for convention’s sake, to appease the petty tyrant? Or would I let it fall solidly on the path I have been on for so long now, committed to following my spirit, in spite of what others might think of me? Could I shed my ego in more ways than one, inflated ego and deflated ego alike, and stay true to my evolving spirit self?

As I put my foot firmly down on my spiritual path, solidly aligned with my recapitulating self, I also acknowledged the role of the petty tyrants in my life. Those petty tyrants do indeed still step out of the shadows and challenge me. Some of them I am used to. I meet them regularly enough and I am rarely thrown by them. But there are others, friends and strangers alike, who offer more abrupt and unexpected challenges. And then the question becomes, whom do I disappoint, them or my spirit? I choose the path of my spirit every time, even if it takes me a few days to realize that I have been wavering, confused, doggedly pursued by a petty tyrant.

Now, having recognized the situation for what it was, I am once again back on track, seeking balance in this world while simultaneously exploring the meaning and possibilities that lie ahead, in this world and all worlds.

As boundaries between worlds constantly dissolve, I find that we are all petty tyrants, to ourselves as well as to others. We challenge as much as we are challenged. Can we accept ourselves in such roles? In addition, I have discovered that my inner spirit is my own greatest petty tyrant, the quiet one within who constantly challenges me to keep questioning and keep questing. Who are your petty tyrants and how do they challenge you?

Recapitulating in everyday life is the way to keep changing and growing, to stay connected to the quiet one within, the inner spirit self who, we discover, knows all.

Much love to you all, as you take your journeys,

Jan

Chuck's Blog

Chuck’s Place: 2πr & πr²

March 9, 2012 Chuck Leave a comment

We were watching a movie. It was descending into utter futility, a decision to suicide. It wasn’t anxious feelings that made me walk away; it was the character’s decision to surrender to that state of possession. I left the room not to return to the movie, but it was too late, I was already overtaken by a dark paralyzing mood.

That night I slept fitfully and was awoken at 2:30 a.m. with the image of a dark circle surrounded by a bright rim of light and two formulas: 2πr and πr². “This is a first,” I thought, “my unconscious instructing me to perform geometric operations.” 2πr is the formula for the circumference of a circle: multiply the radius by π then double it. My unconscious was telling me, in no uncertain terms, to clearly define the boundary of myself, the outer rim of the circle.

Additionally, πr² is the area of a circle, that which is inside the circle, the True Contents of the Self.

I had been infected by an energy outside the circle of myself that had generated a mood with negative thoughts. Those thoughts had sprung fears and worries and my body tightly clenched in response. My unconscious was instructing me to define what really was inside the circle of Me and to clearly define a boundary that differentiated I from Not I.

I performed these boundary-setting operations in practical terms, first via Tonglen breathing, breathing in the Not I with all its angst and tumult, and breathing out compassion and calm, as I released the energy of Not I.

I also engaged in the Recapitulation Sweeping Breath, breathing in the energy of I, breathing out and away from me the energy of Not I that had inadvertently found its way in and attached itself like a virus within the circle of Self.

Finally, I did the Life Saving Pass, a Magical Pass defining an energetic boundary around the Self. With arms at the sides and slightly away from the body, hands open and palms facing in, with legs firmly planted, I swung my upright torso from left then right as my hands traced a circle around me: 2πr.

I mindfully refused the machinations of the mind to attach to its wares of worries in the world beyond the boundaries of Self. Within a day, these practices restored the calm balance that I am generally able to summon and maintain as I navigate life.

I am reminded of an experience of many years ago. I was at a lecture about then-segregated South Africa, and had the opportunity to privately ask Laurens van der Post, Jung’s dear friend and biographer, about Jung’s strong conviction that a successful inner journey by one individual synchronistically changes the world. Van der Post emphatically confirmed Jung’s conviction, even after having just delivered a lecture about his concerns for his own disintegrating homeland, caught in the web of Apartheid. Perhaps it ultimately was the inner process of Nelson Mandela that really changed that world.

When I reflect on the formulas I was given in the night, both insisted on the use of π. π is an infinite number that we paradoxically use to define a definite space: a complete and contained circle. A circle, like the self, can be firmly encased and rigidly defined, yet only by a number that goes on into infinity—a number that therefore incorporates everything.

My efforts to restore and rebalance the boundaries of my “self” ultimately incorporated the interconnectedness of everything. We are finite and infinite beings, separate and interconnected.

We need never doubt the value of taking up the challenge of our inner process. Our own resolution resonates throughout the hologram of our world, throughout infinity.

My mathematical messenger provided me the vehicles to shift the energy within the self, the Self, the Selves. We are energetic beings with awareness, uniquely different and yet the same.

Change the self, change the world—try it!

From the land of Pythagoras,

Chuck,

Jan's Blog

A Day in a Life: On Healing

March 7, 2012 Jan Leave a comment

I spent most of my life in deep depression. I rarely emerged, rarely felt truly joyous, rarely embraced the gifts that life and the universe saw fit to present me with. It was much easier to embrace the negative, self-deprecating person I was used to, the familiar self.

It was not until I began the process of recapitulation that I discovered that the personal issues and ideas I had been so wrapped in were extremely harmful to me. In recapitulation I discovered, as well, a means of release from them. I believe that we have to be ready for the process of recapitulation, that perhaps if we begin it too early we are not prepared for the tests and lessons it will ask us to go through. By my late forties I was ready, but up until then I had to use my normal habits and behaviors—and often sheer force of will—to keep me functioning and stable as I dealt with PTSD.

I found inner calmness in meditation and yoga. I used walking and running to keep me physically present and healthy, while my creative artist self kept me safe and productive. Whether we are doing recapitulation or not, such practices are always available to us, as well as many other methods of calming our minds and bodies, so that we can be functioning adults in a world that we might not feel safe in.

I believe that, at some point, everyone will be confronted with making the choice to heal or not, to recapitulate or not, to face their darkness or not. And it truly is a choice. Personally, I was too fed up with my depressed self to live with her anymore. A drastic approach to her issues was needed and so I was led to recapitulate. My spirit would not rest until I had freed it.

In doing recapitulation, I discovered the incredible power of the mind, body, and spirit to heal. Since then I can truly state that I am rarely depressed. I am mostly full of joy and wonder, my energy light and happy. Lately however, I have felt heavy energy descending upon me, weighing me down. At first, I was confused. I searched within myself. Am I missing something? Is there something I have to recapitulate still from my childhood? After much personal investigation, I detected that I was carrying the energy of others.

I am good at reading energy, open to it, aware that it’s a necessary process as I evolve. This is an ability that I’ve trained and honed, a skill that has become a bigger part of my life as I have grown over the past decade. I use it to channel, for instance, but it has become increasingly clear that I must gain better control over this energy, become better at redirecting it away from me. It’s okay to read energy, to feel and perceive it flowing in the universe, but I must not allow it to rest upon me for even a second. I know that if I carry it for others then they don’t have to deal with it themselves and they will never heal.

I’d been dealing with the heaviness of this energy from outside myself for a while before I understood what it was. I’d look at myself in the mirror and not recognize myself. I’d put on my clothes and find they didn’t fit right. I’d walk stooped and drooped, the heavy weight of negative energy and worry lying heavily upon my shoulders. My energy was low. I had lost my usual lightness and joy.

Finally, I rejected what did not feel like me, what felt so alien and uncomfortable. I shook off the negative energy, the heaviness. I shook it off several times throughout the day, and each time I did I confirmed that, indeed, it did not belong to me. Now, when I look in the mirror, I look like me again. My clothes feel good on me. I walk in my body.

I practice Tonglen breathing around the negative energy, to protect myself but also to channel it for others in a positive way. I breathe in negative energy and exhale positive energy. I breathe in fear and breathe out fearlessness. I breathe in sadness and breathe out happiness. I breathe in the heavy weight of depression and breathe out the joy of release. I breathe in worry and breathe out calmness and contentment. In all of these ways I energetically cleanse and heal my energy and I also aid others in cleansing and healing their own.

In allowing ourselves to accept that we are all healers, that we all have the power within to heal ourselves and others, we can begin to practice and hone our healing skills immediately, whether we are engaging in the process of recapitulation or not. In letting go of negative feelings and thoughts about ourselves, by letting in only good and positive thoughts, we begin to free ourselves of so many problems and ideas, and we begin to change.

We can effect change by setting our intent to do so and then practicing Tonglen or other healing methods. By imagining our bodies being swept clean of disease, discomfort, pain, worry, etc., and by imagining all of that negative energy flushing out of our systems, including our minds, hearts, and spirits, we set ourselves on a healing path. Setting an intent to heal and then acting on it is all we really need, but it is experiencing our intent manifested that brings the biggest reward. It’s easy to keep on our healing path once we experience a moment of joy, a glimpse of light at the end of the long dark tunnel. When I change the phrase “I’m depressed today” into “I’m quiet and calm today” and gather up all that depression and brush it off me, literally brush and flick it off, I feel myself change.

I have often utilized the skills of an energy healer. She is extremely good at what she does and has healed many people from the most horrific of diseases and maladies. She gathers up the bad energy, flicks it away, and replaces it with good energy. It’s not that hard to do, but what is hard is trusting that this is how energy works. My healer learned this in an environment that knew this, that had no doubt. Although we can’t see energy, it is nonetheless present inside us, being bad for us and doing bad things to us, as well as being good for us and doing good things for us. We all sense this on a daily basis. When we are happy we feel good inside. When we are sad we feel bad inside. Although our Western culture may work against us, it’s not impossible to replace our ingrained disbelief with a more open mind, by allowing for actual experience.

Everyone has the power to heal themselves, to shift their thoughts and change how they feel about themselves and their lives. There are jewels and treasures to be found in even the most dire and depressing of lives lived, as I found out. I discovered that underneath all that old depression was the me I am today. The biggest thing I have learned over the years is that I have the power to change myself, within myself, all the time. Yes, I’ve had a lot of help, but it’s always been up to me to choose to do the work.

We all have the power to heal. This is what I have learned. This is what Jeanne taught me and has been teaching all of us through her messages over the past decade. This is what the Shamans and Buddhist practices that I have studied teach us. This is what the metaphysical healers teach us. This is what the powers of the mind, body, and spirit teach us when we open up to their full capabilities, to their full truths.

The power to heal spiritually, physically, mentally, and emotionally lies within. Try it and see what happens. And when recapitulation comes knocking, you’ll have some pretty good techniques already in place to use when the going gets tough. And always keep a hint of the positive in mind no matter what you have to encounter, remembering that eventually the going will be easier, much easier, joyously easier.

Here’s to healing,

Jan

Riverwalker Press