Cultural background and Zeitgeist – influence/attitude towards the

unconscious

The thin shafts of grey light barely touched the darkness as Titus opened his eyes to
greet the dawn of a new day. He lay quietly, reorienting himself. There was work to
be done, a war to be won and Titus was pleased that all his faculties were in order,
that he was back in power. He rose abruptly, purposefully and swung his legs out of
bed planting both feet firmly on the soft fur of a cured bear skin. He stretched.
“Ahhhhhhhh” a feeling of satisfaction grew as he noted the strength in his body, the
tautness of his muscles, not an ounce of spare flesh. He spent a moment basking, lost
in revelry.

The room he stood in was opulent. His bed, large, made with only the finest cotton
sheets from Egypt alongside the softest handmade woollen blankets all designed for
their occupant’s best possible sleep and comfort. Titus was a quintessential aesthete
who was very specific about his needs. The finest furs from the large bears that
roamed the forest bedecked the flagstones of his bedroom high in the largest tower of
his castle. The servants knew well to cover every last inch of the floor lest Titus’s
feet should alight on their wintry coldness. Heavy deep crimson velvet curtains
covered every aperture and a fire which was tended to, oh so quietly, throughout the
night bathed the atmosphere of this beautiful bedroom in a pleasant warmth. Off to
the side of the sleeping area was a bathroom and dressing area also warmed by
another fire. Presently the servants would arrive to fill the bath with hot water, laced
with floral and herbal infusions. These quarters spoke of wealth and luxury.
Everything had been carefully chosen to convey the message of high status and
privilege. Titus roamed around the bedroom, taking in the rich tapestries, the crystal
water goblet should he grow thirsty in the night. He stopped in front of the fire and
gazed down into its liquid amber warmth. His face reflecting its golden glow. With
his hands clasped behind his back as he stood absorbed in thought by the fire, a
small smile hovering on his lips, he embodied the epitome of perfection. The source of
envy to those aspiring material wealth.

I decided to begin this essay with the more murkier, shadowy aspects of my
unconscious. Not sure what Titus is exactly. I don’t have the psychological
verbage or expertise to pin him down. I feel he represents an imbalance in
‘masculine’ power. Titus has his own traumas, and those wounds have made him
into what he is – behaviour driven. He is what my other character Io could have
been had he not made some life changing decisions to transform and grow. He
may also represent a complex or some kind of personification of avarice and
materialism/consumerism. Titus reflects the energy I feel when I see luxury. I love
how beautiful, expensive things look, the aesthetic. I recognise how ‘owning’ such
things communicates a certain prestige. Very much reflective of the Zeitgeist in the
north western hemisphere. A part of me also rails against the baubles, trinkets
and lifestyle we have surrounded ourselves in. I know the cost. It feels like over
the years of consumption, acquisition and privilege, even on my modest scale in
this part of the world, I lost an integral aspect of myself.

Cultural Background:
I grew up in the suburbs of Dublin, Ireland but spent much of my free time on my
maternal and paternal grandparents’ farms on the east and west coast of Ireland.

Important memories for me:

70s: Summers in Kerry with my beloved grandfather and the freedom of roaming
the countryside during the day unfettered without adult supervision. Nature was
close, everything about it was discussed endlessly by my grandparents and uncles.
Nights were spent around an open hearth with neighbours dropping by. Ghost
stories and old irish folklore were recounted. Sometimes my grandfather would
take his fiddle out and play. My soul even as a young child was a constant
presence and something to be revered although its context was catholic in nature.
That concept of soul has never really left me nor has my abiding love of wild rural
landscapes and the ocean.

80s: My teenage years were spent in Germany. In a german school, fluent in the
language and embedded in the culture. I will be forever grateful to Germany for
those years. For the first time in education I was allowed to have an opinion and
encouraged to debate. The tv series Holocaust aired and the war started to be
openly discussed. One of my seminal memories of Germany was visiting Dachau on
a freezing cold, snowy afternoon. I was absolutely horrified and that place has had
a profound, lasting effect on me.

90s: Early adulthood saw a move to London. I was well and truly immersed in the
Zeitgeist - I was ambitious and career minded. Nature was a backdrop, I paid
scant attention to it. Bursts of creativity continued though - a part of me was
calling. Awakening moment of that period was my father taking me to Newgrange
well before it was as sleek and commercial as it is today. I remember a sense of
awe approaching the mound with its white stones and the large rock with its hewn
symbols at the entrance, the narrowness of the tunnel into the chamber. How we
were plunged into darkness and then, using electricity to mimic, the first rays of
the ‘winter solstice sun’ I watched, spellbound, as the light crept towards me. Mind
blown, I was back to my childhood sense of wonder.
Meeting my husband in the mid-90s marked the beginning of a huge period of flux
that has resulted in much of the unconscious becoming conscious. My marriage
marked a seismic shift in my relationship with my mother in particular but
inevitably it spread to the wider family. My family are wealthy, steeped in status
symbols and very conservative. They are also good people fundamentally. When
confronted with the ugliness of racism, the Zeitgeist ceased in many ways to seduce
me. If anything as time has gone on, aspects of our societal culture has appalled,
disgusted and enraged me at times.

00s: Actually late 90s – my husband and I hatched a daring plan of escape to the
South West coast of the UK. We threw caution to the wind, saved a tonne of money
living on the bare essentials and rented a small place. I drove into the sunset with
no job and no idea what the future held. It was a heady time. My creativity came
rushing back and so did Nature. I became a mother. In 2006 I had a very strange
experience and it marked the beginning of turbulence. This experience also
communicated unequivocally that this was also a healing.

10s: The great descent and also blossoming. Recognition of the beauty of diversity.
My daughter struggled throughout her early school years and finally aged 10 it was
confirmed she is autistic. At the same time my nephew was diagnosed. Then while
researching everything Autism, for which I had scant knowledge of, I realised my
older brother was also autistic. I had to reframe my family. Meanwhile the tension
between my mother/family and I grew after years of trying to walk the middle path
with lots of shadow walking in my wake! I found out my mother had targeted my
daughter. My daughter had a complete mental health breakdown after years of
abuse and bullying in primary school/early high school. We had moved her from
her first primary school but horrendous damage had been done and the full horror
of her experiences has only very recently come to light. My husband and I were
rabbits in the headlights, aware that our daughter was struggling but didn’t pull
her out of that school sooner. I see the same parallels with the climate crisis we
are facing. At the same time, a close friend of mine became terminally ill Stateside.
With the use of technology we became closer, having the conversations about death
everyone else, but a few were shying away from. We don’t do death very well. I
became very attuned to him and had a number of wonder-full experiences, which
we were able to share and discuss with each other before his death. After his death
with my daughter in pieces, I sought out a therapist to guide me through the huge
tsunami of emotions rising up in me.

What lay in my unconscious:

Dysfunction. Trauma. Patriarchy. I spent my childhood, oblivious for the most
part, in a ‘power over’ paradigm. That is until I was sexually assaulted between the
ages of 6 and 7. I didn’t understand that power then, but it frightened and
traumatised me. I think I became attuned to its energy and have stayed alert
throughout my life in an effort to keep myself safe. Over time I learned to recognise
I hold that power within myself, that it is engrained and nuanced within our
culture.

Growing up in Ireland, with close ties to family in America I learned that everything
American was to be emulated. The acquisition of wealth and status. If you work
hard enough, you can make it to the top. With that said, I spent many happy
weeks in New York, also touring the wildernesses of Arizona and California
absolutely blown away by the breath-taking beauty of those wide open spaces.
Living in the UK I was and still am an activist. Back then I carefully placed the US
and the UK on pedestals, side by side, as the epitome of freedom and democracy.
With my moral authority intact I would conduct my activism on this premise.
Somewhere in that conscious effort to make the world a better place I was aware
that both countries were one of the most powerful players in the arms trade, but I
didn’t question that in the greater scheme of things.

I knew people died in famines. I knew people lived in poverty. I knew about
apartheid. I knew we were polluting the planet. I knew about slavery – I now go by
a slave-owner’s name after marrying my husband. I knew people were tortured. I
knew lots of murky stuff but I always compartmentalised it in little pockets of
despair or violence. I never joined the dots. I did not embrace the concept of my
privilege until much later. Below the surface though, with the odd breakthrough
into consciousness came unease and it grew.

And Nature. Collective soul, my own soul. Always a presence but boy have I raped
and pillaged her in my own way. I also deeply deeply love her. She taught me to be
a Mother. Emotionally and spiritually I oscillate between guilt and reverence.
What is happening in the world these days is a time of crossroads. I see shadow
everywhere and within the shadow I also see little flames of incandescent light. The
torch Vaselisa carried out from the forest following the trials the Baba Yaga
burns… whether consciousness or cinder remains to be seen.

I will end with a little ritual I started, to make my daughter understand somatically
that she belongs. As a family every night we put our arms around each other and I
say these words: “The circle of Life is the circle of Love. We are family.”

I long for the healing of the masculine and feminine within and without. For us all
to live in equilibrium and deep reverence for each other. I have found that peace in
my little family. I wish it for all beings, for the collective soul.