Libido reimagined

“Libido can never be apprehended except in a definite form; that is to say, it is identical with fantasy-images. And we can only release it from the grip of the unconscious by bringing up the corresponding fantasy-images.”
~The Collected Works of C. G. Jung

As a simplified definition, libido is the energy that animates human life. In and of itself, it is no different than the energy that creates or moves everything in the universe, except that it is scaled down for human use. Libido is sometimes referred to as the life force, sex drive, psychic energy, kundalini, the creative or divine spark, etc.

Like most manifestations of energy, you cannot perceive libido through the human senses or mind alone, unless it presents itself in a form that you’re able to recognize and experience, which is what the Jungian related quote refers to.

We don’t perceive the wind until it blows against or moves something. We don’t see moisture in the air until it forms into a dewdrop, raindrop, cloud, etc. The key word being form: energy or life experienced through form. This necessity for form is not any different for libido, except that it’s often manifested to us through imagined forms or mental projections, especially when a tangible form of something we need or seek to experience does not exist in the outer world (objective reality). As Aristotle once said, “Nature abhors a vacuum,” especially the human mind, and so it imagines what is not completely perceivable or accessible in the outer world as we conceive it.

We experience our lives in both the physical world—if such a thing exists—and imagined worlds of our making—often a hybrid of both: our imaginings projected onto physical reality, like painted art on a canvas. In fact, modern psychological theory straddles the fine line between understanding the effects of the outer, tangible world versus our inner worlds (mental, emotional, and unconscious). Nowadays, there is a great controversy over this very topic, as to what has the greater influence over individuals and whole societies: the so called outer world of tangible circumstances or our imagined worlds—good and bad.

Note: Initially, Freud narrowly defined libido as the energy behind our sex drives, while Jung conceived libido as propelling the full range of human experience, with its many nuances of expression: physical, emotional, mental, spiritual, symbolic, archetypal, mythological, creative, artistic, dreaming, etc.

Our stories

“There are the stories we tell ourselves, and the stories we tell others. Some of them may even be true. But what are the stories which are storying their way through our daily lives and of which we are mostly if not wholly unaware?”
~James Hollis

The three stories:

1) The same old story that you assume is happening again. In reality or imagination, this is the all too familiar theme or pattern that seems to follow you like a stalker, recycling itself over and over, chapter after chapter, from cradle to grave. You whine and complain about its apparent return, playing its victim at times, but it is your Old Faithful, always reliable as an excuse or crutch when all else fails in your life.

2) The story of fulfillment and happy endings that you wish were happening. This is your version of the healing, heroic, romantic journey that you’ve dreamed about from childhood onward. The story evolves with the changing times and circumstances, but remains true to its original theme. You dream of it, hope for it, and search for it, but assume the low probability of its fruition.

3) The real story that is actually happening or unfolding throughout your life: A convoluted plot with characters and themes that appear, disappear, and sometimes reappear again, often without any apparent rhyme or reason. Creating one’s personal story from this bigger, more chaotic story, is a challenge without end, as the real world is in constant flux, without loyalty to what we’d like to believe about it.

Continue reading “Our stories” →

Moving minds

“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.”
~ Robert Frost

Does life move along, or does your continuous, non-stop decision making process give the appearance of movement and change? Your life may be like a blank canvas of an interminable form, remaining essentially the same from cradle to grave, but animated by a lifetime of choices and irrevocable decisions.

“Mix up a little more shadow color here, then we can put us a little shadow right in there. See how you can move things around? You have unlimited power on this canvas — can literally, literally move mountains”
~ Bob Ross

Some physicists view reality as a hologram of infinite possibilities: Your current experience being the latest possibility that you’ve chosen to manifest within your mental canvas of physical space or imagination. The illusion of movement and change being like a mental video of your chosen experiences, displayed frame by frame, sequentially or otherwise – you being at the controls, doing the cutting, splicing, layering, timing, animating, etc.

Filling the gaps

Filling the gaps is what imagination is for. My stories, poems, and musings are equal parts experience, second hand information, and imagination. Imagining what we don’t know or never experienced is half the fun, according to me. 🙂

Imagination is especially important for writers with limited experience in various domains. It could be argued that many of the most creative works were inspired by pure imagination, rather than experience or secondhand knowledge. Although, in most cases, it is difficult to differentiate between the three modes of creative input, as they overlap and inform one another. In fact, our actual memories are usually an amalgam of the three sources.

Default justice

“Every man thinks God is on his side. The rich and powerful know he is.”
~ Jean Anouilh

The favor of the Gods is the ego’s illusion, until circumstances change, and one realizes that God, fate, karma, or random chance can take everything away in a moment’s time, including one’s fortunes and sometimes life itself. The higher the climb on the backs of others, the more disillusioning the fall when those backs shift position, as they always do.

Everything seeks its equilibrium point, moving from the low to the high, the high to the low, from side to side, and finally to the flat ground, where purposeful activity ceases and all is balanced again. This is life’s default form of justice: the birth, rise, fall, and eventual flatlining – an immutable process that nobody escapes, including the rich and powerful.

If a higher form of justice exists, and I hope it does, then maybe it rests upon this immutable default justice; our attitude towards it being the difference between being reborn as a worm or saint, or anything in-between.