James Hillman was one of Jung’s apprentices. Hillman did not believe that newborns came
into this world as blank slates. He saw
infants as unique acorns, ready to spend their lives growing into unique
oaks. Every oak tree had a different
form. No two were identical. The form of the tree was influenced by the
information stored in the acorn from which it sprouted.
Hillman believed that every human acorn had unique
characteristics, and a unique calling, purpose, or destiny. Every person had a sacred obligation to
understand that calling and live it.
This was why nature-based societies encouraged people to discover their
calling via vision quest ceremonies.
When they found their vision, they knew their path and purpose. This helped them avoid wasting their lives in
aimless wandering.
Basil Johnston described how vision quests worked in Ojibway
culture. Once a person discovered his or
her vision, they tried hard to live in accordance with it. It was not uncommon for folks to periodically
stray from their vision, or betray it, and “such a state was tantamount to
non-living in which acts and conduct had no quality.” Every year, men and women would go on a
retreat, to verify that they were still living in synch with their vision, and
make any needed adjustments.
Hillman believed that modern society was a train wreck
because most people were clueless about their calling, and were wandering
aimlessly. Society fed the sacred acorns
into a machine that crushed them, shredded them, and converted them into
standard issue industrial robots and recreational shoppers — lost souls.
On a larger scale, it’s not hard to imagine that entire
communities were once guided by a collective tribal vision, before agriculture
arrived. Each wild community inhabited a
unique ecosystem, and its custom-tailored vision enabled it to live in balance
with the land. This vision was passed
from generation to generation, across vast spans of time, and helped to keep
the life of the tribe stable and secure.
The vision guiding the human community was in harmony with the vision of
the community of life — they were the same.
Ladies and gentlemen, it is with sincere regret that I must
inform you that industrial civilization has no sacred vision to guide it; it
has a terminal illness. In ages past, as
civilization obliterated countless wild tribes, the visions of those tribes
were forgotten. Because of this, our
society has descended into “a non-living state, and our acts have no
quality.” We are no longer like happy
tadpoles or maggots, the beautiful offspring of a healthy wild ecosystem. We have been reduced to lonely stressed-out
cogs in a global economy.
What can we do? Is it
possible to remember what was lost?
Native Americans have told me yes, it is. If you forget your instructions, just look
back toward the Creator’s fire, and you’ll remember them. But each tribe was given different
instructions by the Creator.
White folks are not like tribal Indians. We’re mongrels, having ancestors from numerous
tribes, all now disintegrated or extinct.
If I have ancestors from 476 tribes, who am I? What are my instructions? Where is my home? Who are my people?
If my wild ancestors were buried in 476 different lands, and
all of those ecosystems have been obliterated by centuries of civilization,
what good are the ancient instructions?
The aurochs are gone, the lions are gone, the forests are gone, and the
salmon have been herded into concentration camps.
The stories, songs, and ceremonies of my wild ancestors have
all been lost. Indians disagree. They insist that all ancient wisdom is always
“accessible,” and just wink when I ask how.
This is most perplexing! I’m
hoping that contemplating a sustainable future will open new doors of
perception, or old ones.
I’ve lived in nine states, and my extended family is
scattered everywhere. We have become
wandering homeless people. This year,
I’m living in the Willamette Valley, on land violently stolen from the
Kalapuya. As a people, the Kalapuya had
never forgotten their vision. They
celebrated their lives in a paradise of abundant life, and they knew how to
live in balance with it. It was
easy. All they had to do was to
carefully follow the path of the ancestors, the ancient time-proven vision of
the community.
The Kalapuya were forced out of their home by the white
invaders, who had strayed far from their ancestral home, and had no vision for
living in harmony. The invaders built
the city that I live in, which is insane, and is in the process of committing
suicide. It has no spiritual connection
to the land, or to life. Indeed, the
entire nation is lost and insane. This
is not encouraging.
Today, the invaders’ culture is a childlike fantasy world of
gadget worshippers — robot-driven electric cars, smart highways, smart grids,
high-speed trains, Internet everything, windmills and solar panels, and on and
on — nothing sustainable, and nothing that is necessary for a healthy and
enjoyable life.
The purpose of existence is to make lots of money, by any means
necessary, and spend it in a manner that continuously increases your display of
personal status, as defined by the ever-changing fads of consumer society. Stan Rowe perceived that consumers were
raging narcissists, spellbound by their own image, imprisoned in an
introspective cage — too much time spent before the mirror, and far too little
outdoors with the family of life.
Countless millions devote their entire lives to acquiring and
discarding unnecessary stuff. Consumers
have a deep longing to experience inner peace and happiness in their lives, and
they believe that shopping is the sacred path.
They are trying to fill the vacuum created by their loss of wildness and
freedom. But, no matter how skillfully
they shop, or how much they spend, it never works, except for fleeting
post-purchase consumer orgasms, soon followed by a return to gnawing
hollowness. Trainloads of Prozac numb
the pain.
I can’t get off the bus and live like a Kalapuya. The deer, elk, and salmon are mostly gone
now, replaced by endless herds of automobiles and cell phone zombies. The land has been chopped up into thousands
of parcels of private property, where my presence is not welcome. In this reality, a sustainable way of life is
impossible.
John Trudell says that we cannot have a spiritual connection
to the future if we have lost the connection to our past. It’s essential that we remember that everyone
has ancestors who were tribal people — admirable folks who were solidly
connected to the circle of life, and lived in harmony with it.
We are, at root, tribal people who have been colonized. Colonization is a component of the spiritual
disease that gave birth to domestication.
It’s a mindset devoted to a mining way of life, eating up tomorrow, for
no honorable purpose. At the core of our
healing process is decolonizing our minds, remembering that we are wild tribal
people — human beings — not miners.
3 comments:
Seeking an individual and collective vision is, perhaps, what is most missing from today's post-modern world - and what is, perhaps, most needed in order to discover (or invent) a "roadmap" forward toward a sustainable, wholesome and balanced future.
The Chinese say that if we don't change where we're going, we'll probably end up there. But it is no use to wander blind, as we are. We need a road map to guide the journey - some sense of purpose, direction and path, as well as a hint of the dangerous obstacles to avoid along the way.
I have written on the Collective Rite of Passage at my blog. I invite Adrian's readers to join me there.
Riversong, right on!
This is cool!
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