hooking the unconscious

To desire the ‘pulling up’ … of something. To cast. To wait. And then a bite … followed by a reeling in. The resulting fear and excitement to see what is on the other end. A panic followed by a reflection. A state of awe that THIS is what surfaced. A pause.

Now what?

We cast all the time, in an effort to discover the knowledge that lies beneath the surface.  I cast with a desire to know what is deep down. I want to know what resides on the bottom. I want to bring it up to the light and see it, feel it, examine it, and be simultaneously scared and yet in awe of it’s beauty.

How did it get there? How does it exist ? What has it been feeding on? How has it survived?

In bringing it to the surface does it lose it’s strength? Has my ego forced my unconscious into submission? Have my man-made contraptions removed the primal beauty, wildness, and mystery of the uncharted depths?

I want a big fish. I want a fish that takes me down with it. Way down. I want a reminder that my ego is powerless in the context of the deep unconscious. Any plan that I made, is out the window when that fish is big enough. Drag me way down and remind me of my insignificance.

The last 4 months have felt like a continual casting of the line, waiting, and then hooking the fish. But these have not been ‘fish’. I have been catching sea creatures. These boys have been residing in the depths for many years. These are big-eyed, crooked toothed, whiskered creatures have been hovering around the bottom and feeding off of old stories, outdated emotions, memories of poor decisions, toxic relationships .. you get it. I have used all my strength to fight them, reel them in, de-hook them, and hold them. Honor them.

And then throw them back.

Maybe I should have just let them be, but that is not in my nature.

 

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