Tag Archives: relationship

Chuck’s Place: Safety

One of the scary dogfighters in the sky... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
One of the scary dogfighters in the sky…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

As we drove past the Rhinebeck Aerodrome in the midst of a dogfight in the sky, a golden retriever with leash dragging scurried toward our car. I stopped, opened the car door, and the dog immediately leaped in and planted itself on my lap.

I could feel the dog’s terror and need for safety. He was at home with us and would have moved forward in life from that moment, never leaving our safety, never looking back. We diligently went in search of it’s owner and eventually discovered his whereabouts. He was deeply engrossed in the planes in the sky, with no consideration of his dog’s terror of loud noises. The dog was so planted in our car, clinging for dear life, that I ultimately and sadly had to lift its frozen statue frame from the car to send it back on its journey. We watched as it was led away, slunk low to the ground, peering to the right and to the left, seeking safety once again as the bombs went off overhead.

Domesticated animals are ultimately dependent on their “owners” for their safety and survival. This is the contract they make in domesticated form. Though their instincts are fully available to protect them, their survival is largely delegated to their owner.

Humans, in contrast, are charged with taking adult responsibility for achieving safety for themselves in this life. Many humans reach adulthood unable to fully achieve individual internal security due to lapses in milestones of emotional maturity, caused by trauma or compromised parents. The legacy of these lapses is a physically mature but emotionally insecure adult who anxiously seeks relationship attachments outside the self to feel safe.

These kinds of relationships may feel powerfully necessary for survival and the threat of losing them generates states of anxiety and panic similar to that of the golden retriever that anxiously attached to us and the safety of our car. Relationships driven by such anxious attachment often start off with intense love feelings—finally feeling “home”—but generally degenerate into worry, panic, and fear of abandonment.

Relationships at this level are often frozen at the level of dependency, control, and fear, leaving little opportunity for adult companionship and relatedness. This is inherent in the relationship’s initial underlying intent: safety. Until safety can be found within the self, relationships will be controlled by an over-dependency on the other person’s behavior as the locus of control for inner safety.

We must become the parent to our inner panicking child. If we allow the child’s anxiety to control our decision making and actions, we are sure to engage in external parenting relationships as we allow the child in us to go in search of a secure person to latch onto, just like the dog that leapt into our car. Our adult self must be in charge of decision making and self care. If our child self is frightened it might be time to pick it up and go for a soothing walk alone rather than desperately seek inappropriate attention elsewhere.

Blossoming as one united being... - Photo by Chuck Ketchel
Blossoming as one united being…
– Photo by Chuck Ketchel

Eventually, the child will discover that the adult self is its one true parent, the one that can take charge of decisions for the whole personality, leading it to safety, play, and fulfillment. From this place, with the locus of control coming from a place of deep inner safety, relationships may be engaged in as adult partnerships, with everyone responsible for their own inner parenting.

Self care at the deepest level is the only adult ticket to true inner safety. Inner safety leads to outer blossoming and allows for flourishing in true adult relationship.

Embracing inner safety,
Chuck

Chuck’s Place: New Models Of Possibility

The answer is true connection... - Art by Jan Ketchel
The answer is true connection…
– Art by Jan Ketchel

Having read the synopsis of Don Jon, I was curious as to how the movie might address a major relationship challenge of our time: addiction to internet pornography.

The movie was energetically rajasic, difficult to stomach, however, it managed to realistically offer an insight into the core challenge of porn addiction and how to go about addressing it. The main male character, who had a very active sex life, even a relationship with Scarlett Johansson—who I later learned has twice been announced the sexiest woman on earth by Esquire magazine—preferred pornography to an actual flesh and blood person because it allowed him the freedom to lose himself in masturbation rather than have to face the challenge of intimate connection. The antidote to his fixation was to learn to actually look into the eyes of his partner and feel a genuine connection.

When I recently spoke with my daughter, currently completing her graduate studies in Social Work, I suggested that she view the movie as part of her own clinical education. She called me the next day to inform me that her boyfriend had preferred to see Gravity, and so they saw that instead. “Dad, why didn’t I go into science… there’s so much more out there,” she expressed excitedly. “We’re just a tiny part of it all!” She went on to share a dream she’d had after seeing the movie.

“I was with friends at the ocean,” she said. “We wanted to create a whirlpool. We started making the whirlpool. I was the furthest out in the ocean. Remember, Dad, when we were in the Hudson River and we struggled with the current. You always warned me about the undertow. Well, it got me in the ocean. I was pulled away. Suddenly a voice inside me said, ‘Just let go,’ and I did. I let go and I was fine.”

I was so struck by her experience and dream that off we went to see Gravity the next day. I have never seen a movie where the lead actor is a woman astronaut in space. What an amazing experience! And I could see the impact such an image could have on a young woman’s imagination of what she might really do in this life. Just a week before, I had been drawn to read an article in the New York Times—Why Are There Still So Few Women in Science?—lamenting the paucity of women in science. One causal suggestion from this article was the lack of female models that one would feel comfortable realistically identifying with. Sandra Bullock’s performance may open a new era of models for girls and women to free themselves into new vistas of possibility. Had my daughter been a child today, she might actually have chosen to go into the sciences after seeing this movie with this strong female lead.

The lessons of Don Jon may offer men, as well, freedom from the stuckness and control of two-dimensional images as they challenge themselves to open to the immense possibilities of real life intimacy. These two movies, as diverse as they are from each other, hold similar messages: don’t ever underestimate the possibilities!

Enjoying the movies, and the possibilities too,
Chuck

A Day in a Life: In The Circle

Tao is everywhere, in everything... - Photo by Jan Ketchel
Tao is everywhere, in everything…
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

Tao is circular. Tao is wholeness. Tao is returning always to Tao. But Tao is also instinctual, knowing when to leave the circle, when to step outside the self and interact in the world. Nature is Tao, but nature is sometimes violent, yet it is still Tao. In Tao, in nature, everything returns to balance and harmony after the necessary aggressive deed is done.

To be in the Tao is to learn to flow, but also to be alert. If we were hermits, living in a cave far from others, our daily lives would be quite different from the lives of people living in a busy metropolis. But even so, we would have to remain alert to what was going on around us. We would have to be in harmony with nature. Our existence would be dependent upon and pretty much ruled by our environment, yet we might not have to ever be aggressive in the way that worldly people often have to be aggressive.

Sometimes, Chuck and I have what we call “monastery days.” On such days, we stay calm. We stay in our house, on our property, or perhaps we take a quiet walk around the neighborhood. We eat simply. We meditate, read, and go inward. We stay in the Tao. We use such days to contrast the busyness of life, giving ourselves respite, as we sit at the center of the circle of Tao.

I used to be a runner. Not only did I run for exercise, but I tended to run all the time; up the stairs, down the stairs, to my car, from my car. I’d do everything at a fast pace, trotting along. I had a lot of energy, but I was also running from a lot of stuff back then too. Now I don’t do that as much. Sometimes when we walk, Chuck will put his hand on my arm. I know this means “slow down.” And then I notice that I was going too fast, right out of the Tao of the day, out of the Tao of us.

When I walk alone, I tend to walk faster than we do as a couple, but I know this is okay. When I am alone, I’m in my own Tao and it’s different from the Tao of Chuck and Jan as a couple. But being a couple means being flexible, not being overpowering or overpowered, but finding what works between the opposites, the middle ground—a great opportunity to practice what it means to be in Tao! It can be a struggle, but in the give and take of relationship one learns the lessons of give and take in all relationships, whether they are inner or outer.

Sometimes, as a couple, we are very calm and sometimes we are not. Sometimes, as a solo journeyer, I am very calm too, but I usually try to flow with where I am. I’ve worked hard to be aware of the energy around me, to read it and be in it. As I ask myself to be in the Tao of the day, I go within and check on where I am. I feel my own Tao and try to align it with the outer Tao, try to stay in synch. It can be another challenge, but it’s also another lesson in relationship, relationship to the world, other, and to self. Sometimes it’s appropriate to be in the calm Tao, sometimes it can get you in trouble if the Tao around you is moving at a hearty pace.

We can’t really separate ourselves. Even on our monastery days, Chuck and I know that we might be interrupted. It’s rare that we do not have something outside needing us, but we allow and flow with what comes. Our circle is sacred, but there is compassion and understanding in that circle, there is awareness of other, of world. To be in Tao is to be appropriate at all times.

The Tao of Me Sweater designed by me, knitted by Fanny on her machine, circa 1977 - Photo by Jan Ketchel
The Tao of Me
Sweater designed by me, knitted by Fanny on her machine, circa 1977
– Photo by Jan Ketchel

Back in my twenties, I had a friend in Sweden who bought a knitting machine. It was a long contraption that she could string four different colors of yarn into and knit with. She made mittens, hats, scarves and sweaters and sold them at various boutiques and outdoor markets. Even though she knitted on a machine—cutting knitting time down to a minimum, considerably upping her production—her goods still had a handmade quality to them. She loved to knit by hand, but she needed to make a living, and so she chose to go outside of her normal world and become a little more commercial. It required an aggressive move on her part, but it worked. She ended up with a very successful business.

We shared a large studio together with five other artists of various skill sets, artisans, performers, and illustrators and painters alike, all of us doing our thing, commercial or otherwise. We existed for several years quite harmoniously in a bustling environment, all of us successful. It was very Tao. The energy of the time, of the people, of the place we inhabited all came together in alignment. But the perfect Tao of that time came to an end. At the same time that I decided to return to America, the lease was up. The landlord wanted the space for himself. Other people in the group had other opportunities coming in, offers to move on too. The knitter became a massage therapist. The signs were there that we could not hold together anymore.

That too is being in the Tao, knowing when it is time to disassemble, time to shift, time to move on, time to move deeper into the circle of self, or deeper into the Tao of the outer world. Tao is knowing when it is time to let go and then following through and actually letting go. Tao is never stagnant.

When we are young, the outer world is our learning environment. We must leave our secure world of family, our dependent childhood and the comforts of the known, and go into the outer Tao. We must experience the wholeness of Tao if we are to become whole ourselves. We must walk hand in hand with others and discover what it means to give and to take, in all the many different situations and relationships that we encounter as we go through life.

Even in our traumatic experiences we are learning something important about life and Tao. If Tao is everything then Tao is sadness, violence, hatred, anger, abuse, pettiness, ignorance, and meanness too. If we are to return to the circle of Tao from which we all come, we must bring our recapitulated, fully assimilated experiences with us, for they are part of our wholeness and they too belong in our Tao of Self. Tao of Self means having no secrets, every part acceptable.

As we go inward, our experiences of having been outward are our greatest guides. If we do not know what we carry in our “inner” world then we will never be in Tao. Likewise, if we do not know the “outer” world and how it works we will never be in Tao either. Our first job is to prepare ourselves for life, secondly to live fully in the Tao of who we are in the world, and thirdly to bring all of our experiences inward, creating a whole self. Then we are ready to sit in the center of the circle of Tao. Then, like the hermit in his cave, our relationship to Tao will be harmonious with nature, because we have fully understood it.

The I Ching offers us guidance in how to live in the Tao...
The I Ching offers us guidance in how to live in the Tao…

As we do our inner work and gradually allow ourselves to evolve, we enter into the wholeness of ever-evolving Tao, into the nature of all things in balance but in constant flux as well. If we can learn to be flexible—as Chuck asks me to be whenever he silently puts his hand on my arm, signaling that I am not in “our” Tao—we soon find that it’s easier to be flexible all the time. Tao is flexibility.

Tao is everything, and so we are always in it. But it’s up to each of us to become consciously aware of it, of how we are in relationship to it, to other, to our work, to our dreams. Our dreams are already there, waiting in the circle of Tao for us to find them.

Greetings from the Tao of me,
Jan

A Day in a Life: Who Are You?

When my children were first born I stared at them intently as they lay in my arms, wondering who they would become.

“Who are you?” I asked. “Where have you come from? Why are you here? Why did I get you? Where are you going? Who are you going to be?”

I was fascinated by those tiny, helpless creatures who seemed to know everything, yet who could do nothing for themselves. I sensed they held all the mysteries of life, yet it was my responsibility to teach them about life. How could I teach those complete little beings anything! I could only offer them utter respect and love, knowing they held memories of things I had long ago lost touch with. New to the world, I saw them as fully in touch with all knowledge, so recently coming from the wellspring of all life.

Who are you?

From the moment of birth, I saw them as miniature adults, intelligent, intuitive, beautiful beings that I was charged with launching into life. While preparing them for whatever life held in store for them, I rarely stopped to think about the daunting task that it really was. With my intent already set, I plowed ahead, carrying them forward, aware most of the time that I was challenging them; that I was doing what they needed me to do. Now they’re both freshly graduated from college, looking for jobs, and they are indeed those intelligent, intuitive, beautiful beings I always saw them as. And yet, I still look at them with awe and wonder who they will become in the future.

Why did I get them? Why does anyone get the children they get? I no longer wonder why.

I believe our children are our opportunities to transform. We are constantly asked by them to face our fears while at the same time we are challenged to free them of us. We are challenged to free them of everything we hold onto, both that which we hold sacred and that which we fear, so they can become thoughtful, aware, evolving beings. We are charged with unburdening them so they can move on, totally free, unencumbered by our darkest secrets, our inhibitions, our rules, our agreements, and yes, our fears. I was conscious of this from the very minute I first set eyes on my children. Even if we don’t have children we are asked to face these challenges in all of our relationships, whether with partners, parents, siblings, co-workers, etc. We are all offered opportunities to transform.

When I whispered to them that I would do the best I could, I was promising them that I too would transform. Perhaps that was the moment when I set my intent to do a shamanic recapitulation. I don’t know for sure, because I was far from embarking on that journey, but something inside me knew that I must not burden those kids with me. I knew my biggest challenge was going to be setting them free of me, so they could become the beings they had the potential to become and the only way to do that was to face who I was. And I have indeed had to face my own fears as I raised my children.

My two children don’t even know it, but they have always been the impetus behind my own healing journey. I see them now for what they truly are: they are beings of recapitulation, having brought me to this point in my life, for they have constantly challenged me as much as I challenged them, and as much as I challenge myself.

When I worry about them, I know I must turn my eyes inward and work on my own reasons for that worry. I know I must ask myself to take the worry off them and use it to cleanse myself, sending them off with the freedom from me that they deserve. I refuse to burden them with me. Even so I know they will have to do their own work on shedding the mother they got, and in the meantime I give them permission to do so, to go out into the world and truly become who they are.

In continually facing who I am, in reflecting back onto myself what I project onto them, I ask myself to become who I truly have the potential to become as well. We are all here for many purposes, for many reasons, and for many challenges. We are all imbued with the potential that I first realized in my infants, when I first allowed that they did not really belong to me, but only to themselves. I knew my job was to bring them into life in the best way I could. I chose to do that with awareness.

When I see them sad, I ask myself: what is it in me that is sad? When I see them angry at the world, I ask myself: where is my anger? When I feel their disappointments, I must ask myself where my own disappointments are. I know I must resolve those issues in myself so we can all be free.

I ask only that they go into life and embrace it as their own, for life is ready to embrace them in return. I ask that they let me go, accepting me as a separate being on a separate journey, as much as I accept this truth about them.

As Jeanne suggested in Monday’s message, I use heart-centered breathing to send them on their journeys into the next stages of life—I use heart-center breathing and Tonglen too. I breathe in my worries and breathe out their full potential. I breathe in my fears and breathe out fearlessness for them. I breathe in my maternal instincts and breathe out their own maternal instincts and abilities to care for themselves.

I unburden them of me. I feel it is my greatest duty as their mother, to set them free, of me especially. I don’t own them. I love them and cherish them for who they are. I watch with awe as they launch into the world, as I once watched with awe as they first learned to roll over, to sit up, and as they stumbled through their first walking steps.

When people tell me I have great kids, I know they speak the truth.

“Yes, they are great kids,” I say, “because they are themselves!”

I still whisper the same words to them each day that I once whispered when they were infants: “Be yourself, be who you are. I can’t wait to see who you will be!”

I’m still fascinated as I watch them take their next steps—I’m just as fascinated by all the people I know and meet. I wonder: Who are you going to be?

Love to you all,
Jan

Chuck’s Place: Abuse of Power—In the Service of Whom?

In a dream, Jan and I are parked in our little black car in a vast Stop & Shop supermarket parking lot. We’re just sitting, quietly and calmly, Jan in the driver’s seat, I next to her in the passenger seat. A pick-up truck pulls in tightly to my side. A man opens his door, which smacks into our door. I’m not particularly fazed and turn to Jan and say: “See, that’s how we get those marks on the car when we’re parked.”

The man, who didn’t skip a beat after hitting into the door, walked away obliviously—we simply didn’t exist for him. He took no responsibility whatsoever for having left a scratch on our little car. However, after I made that comment to Jan, he turned and got back into his truck and pulled out, cutting his wheels too much and causing his car to catch part of our bumper and actually begin to drag us along. Eventually, it unhinged, but just as before he acted completely oblivious; not that he was refusing to take responsibility, but even more profoundly, he simply didn’t care even to waste the energy on us to defend himself—we simply didn’t exist.

I had this dream the night it was exposed that Pachamama had used Tweetie Bird to bring down Anthony Weiner, just another of her recent targets: high-powered men who abuse their power. This dream dramatizes the utter blindness, narcissism, and outright disregard by masculine energy when it dominates the personality. What this means inwardly for such a domineering individual is the total negation of the feminine energy within the self.

The feminine energy within all selves, male and female, is the energy that opens, receives, holds, joins, and nurtures life, bringing us into a deep experience of interconnectedness and oneness of all things. Feminine energy, when polarized and dominant, can bring forth death and destruction to clear the way for new life. We find ourselves in such a time now. Pachamama has gained the ascendancy after centuries of polarized abuse by dominant masculine power. Pachamama is on the warpath, and we are all feeling the impact of her path of destruction, as she prepares the planet for new life.

My dream dramatizes the abuse of masculine power that has led to Pachamama’s targeted rebalancing efforts. In the dream, the existence of Jan and I, our car, and damage to our car are not only dismissed; there is no evidence of any feminine energy present in this man to value or care about us. In the case of the driver of the truck, his dominant masculine energy is in the service of his narcissistic self: oblivious, unfeeling, and completely dismissive of the world around him. Whose needs within the self are being served by this tyrannical, self-serving despot who is blind to the needs or even existence of others? I propose that the culprit is a very primitive ego state, in control behind the scenes of what appears to be an adult.

There is a stage in the ontological development of the psychological self that Freud termed primary narcissism. Margaret Mahler called this same stage symbiosis to highlight the oneness of the unit of parent and child. Esther Harding coined the term autos to define this stage. I will use Ester Harding’s term autos to capture the ego state that all of these pioneers in psychology were talking about when reflecting upon the experience of the human being in earliest infancy.

In infancy, it is normal and appropriate to be completely absorbed within the narcissistic shell of the self. At this age there is no differentiation of self and other. Self is everything. At this stage of near utter helplessness the world must revolve around the needs of the infant—even read those needs without them being expressed—for that infant to survive and thrive. To the infant, the parent’s needs for sleep, rejuvenation and recreation don’t matter—they simply don’t exist. Plain and simple, the world is all about ME, as it should be, AT THAT AGE.

As development progresses beyond infancy, consciousness gradually awakens to a world of others, separate beings with their own needs. Growing up becomes a progressive paring down—or suppression of the world view and the power of the early stage of primary narcissism, with its primitive ego state of autos—in the service of becoming an autonomous independent person, capable of caring for self and becoming a contributing member of an interdependent community.

The charming baby of infancy, once cooed over, becomes the big baby of adulthood if it fails to acquiesce to more socialized and autonomous ego states. In truth, the autos of yesteryear remains an enduring ego state in all adults. All must struggle with the desire to return to the safety and security of being totally taken care of, loved, provided all that she/he needs or wants; the expectation of needs being met simply because they are so important.

This autos ego state may have been thrown out of the Garden too soon, never allowed to fully experience safety and love, or it may have been neglected and abused, or it may simply continue its longing to return to that paradisal state of oneness—without any effort. Nonetheless, as we emerge from early childhood our autos is forced into the background as we must navigate and adapt to the complexities and expectations of a world that demands that we too give.

When the autos remains dominant we find the child who demands all the focus and all the toys. In the autos state we want what we want when we want it. The autos has no energy to think about you. In truth, as with the truck driver in my dream—you simply don’t exist. And if you do exist your value lies only in your ability to serve the elemental needs of comfort, security, and pleasure. If an adult is covertly possessed by the autos ego state, beware its Trojan horse—often called seduction. The true motive may be to draw you in, ultimately to serve its own needs of comfort, security, and pleasure.

Anthony Weiner, in my judgment, is just the latest example of a man covertly controlled by his autos, emboldened and empowered by the dominant control of masculine energy. Sending an anatomical picture over the Internet and having tantalizing on-line dialogue is still, ultimately, an absorption in self-pleasuring. All interaction and stimulation takes place in the imagination, within the self. “Sexual contact” at this level is masturbatory—an offshoot of narcissism and self-pleasuring—it’s safe, you’re in total control. BUT, there is no real relationship, real connection, with a real person. This type of contact, actually, suspends real-ity. Real contact with a real woman or other person requires opening up to the feminine energy within the self, in all sexes. Only through that feminine energy can true merging and contact be made to unite with another.

Furthermore, even if Anthony Weiner made real contact with a woman he’d met on the Internet he is not a real person at that meeting. He is a fragmented being who has left his husband self at home. The bottom line: real relationship is simply too much work for the adult possessed by their autos.

Women are not exempt from the dominance of male energy within the self acting in the service of the autos either. Women must examine their own modus operandi in choosing partners. If, secretly, the autos’s need for safety and security, completely provided by another, is in control of the personality, then that woman’s masculine energy may act decisively on the autos’s behalf, choosing a dominant narcissistic partner who demands a caretaker/lover that the woman might overtly protest, but covertly covet, feeling secure in being taken care of.

At the other extreme, the autos may enlist the dominant masculine energy to choose a passive partner to covertly be assured of getting what she wants, though she might overtly protest that partner’s lack of drive, imagination, or initiative.

All must assume responsibility now for scrutinizing the interplay between masculine and feminine energies within the self. We are on the precipice of a major shift away from a free ride for dominant masculine energy control. All are charged to act in concert with Pachamama toward a new balance. But behind this balance of energetic forces lies the autos self, which must be reckoned with and put to bed. Pachamama has little nurturance or patience for the autos ruling an adult. In fact, as is abundantly evident, it arouses her destructive fury.

Time to get out of the nest and take responsibility, as an adult self, for the greater interconnected needs and survival of all.

Chuck

P.S.: I had completed this blog the other night and read it to Jan. Though it felt complete, I sensed there was something more to be said. I woke last night thinking of the blog and then had this dream:

Jan and I are in a rural setting. An old bridge had been repaired. It’s not a bridge of much consequence, but it’s the only bridge to get to the road that leads to more significant bridges.

I am driving over the bridge a little too fast. It’s only a narrow two-lane bridge. Suddenly, an oncoming car swerves directly at us with what appears to be an inevitable head-on collision as there is no place for me to go. At the last second the other car swerves back into its lane and we both stop.

I rush over to the driver, an Asian woman, who has already gotten out of her car and is busily typing on her laptop. I am now the observer, as she and a man take off their clothes. She mounts him and they begin to have intercourse. Suddenly, another woman, an older woman, appears who watches them intensely, first with an expression of shock, then anger, then jealousy, and finally deep wrenching sadness. As the Asian woman orgasms the older woman holds her, desperately trying to share some aspect of her experience.

This dream dramatically stops me and insists that I include one more point in my blog. The older woman in this dream embodies the impact of her controlling dominant masculine energy upon her own fulfillment. The experience of orgasm is a door to the deep feminine energy of Kundalini, an energetic rapture of ecstatic proportion. Letting go to such an engulfment can be fraught with fear for anyone, whether alone in a masturbatory experience of self-union or with a partner.

A woman might call upon her masculine energy to shut down her deep feminine energy under the terror of loss of self and dissolution—just as a man might limit his sexual experience to images of woman or objectified, depersonalized interactions with an actual woman—similarly protecting herself from the terror of loss of self in engulfment or failure in actual relational experience. In this case, the dominance of the autos ego state is protection at a very primary level. It is likely that the psyche, in this case, is housing a tremendum of unrecapitulated trauma that the autos, in its striving for safety, directs its masculine energy to cut off and protect itself from, resulting in loss of the feminine.

The challenge for both sexes is to release the stranglehold of control that dominant masculine energy can have on the need for deep union within the self, with a partner, and with the greater world. However, we must look beyond the dominance of masculine energy and address who is really in control and why.