The purpose of my life
Had a dream the other night in which I was told the purpose for my existence. Man, that was amazing and wonderful. I woke up in the dream sobbing with relief and joy to finally know the answer to my question, what is the reason for me to be here?
Of course, like everyone else, I’ve had a lot of input in that direction over the years:
According to my father, I was born to please him. According to my mother, I was born to love her. According to society, I was born to fit in. According to my employers I was born to work harder and not screw up so much. According to the U.S. Navy, I was born to polish brass, swing a swab, and hoist signal flags. According to my ex-wife, I was born to accommodate her. According to my cults, I was born to give them money. According to the television, I was born to buy stuff.
Now I’m sure there is a kernal of truth in all they say, but it never really struck me as the real deal. I hadn’t the least idea myself, so have been dependent on the wisdom of strangers until now. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’ve made a lot of guesses over the years. Always felt like a bit of a communicator and an artistic sort, but never had the chops to make it work. Or the guts.
To set the scene:
This dream was set in a multidimensional quasifabularium, that is, a hotel. Or a funhouse. Or a funhouse that was also a hotel of multiple meanings, full of rooms that opened to infinity. A house of many mansions.
One of the rooms was formed into red rocky outcrops so that it was like passing through a small dark narrow canyon, and as I moved through it little black shapes began to move up behind me, coming up from the shadows of darkness, shapes of pure darkness themselves, like bipedal ratlike rats or little demons. Very scary, the embodiment of all my fears. And soon they came in such huge numbers that they turned the floor into a writhing mass of them and I was carried along in their deadly black midst.
At first I was fearful, but soon realized I needed to surrender to them, let them do with me whatever they wanted, to let go and let be. As soon as I did that, they de-individualized.
I fell into them and all became black. And I moved instantly from there into a place of pure bliss, surrounded by distant mighty lights like galaxies in the deep harmonious blackness. I was floating in a vast universe of harmony and peace, a tiny flick of joy in a vast rotating emanation of cosmic perfection.
It was so easy, so natural, and such an astonishing and gratifying revelation – to give in to one’s deepest fears and find they lead directly to pure heaven. Fear = bliss. Who knew? All this time I’ve been running like an insane dog from exactly what I needed.
And then it came to me, whether as a voice or as pure knowing I don’t recall, but I do recall the message: My life’s purpose is to support the feminine process.
What does that mean?
To me, who has long studied Jungian thought, psychological alchemy, dreamwork, and the artistic realm (by study I mean dabble in), it was instantly obvious and feeling-true. I am here to be a conciliator of the weak with the strong, of the sissy with the bully, of the intellect with the feeling realm, and to do that not only in society and in others, but mainly in myself. My anima is the goddess in me, and I need to let her out, to set her free, to be the rock on which she stands tall, flinging love like flowers from her arms.
You go girl!
LWIII
You go girl! … what a powerful dream! Smiling here
big hugs to you my friend
xo
Thanks la! It was a beaut, for sure. I love dreams like that, the super-archetypal ones. Thanks for the comment. Sending love, hugs, and smiles back!
My 23-year-old son has been torn up lately over a young woman. He’s been obsessed and depressed, and Mama’s been worried.
Well, he came by last night for a visit, and I noticed a difference in his demeanor. He was calm and at peace. So I asked him what made the difference in his mood. And he looked at me and said, “Acceptance. I’ve finally accepted the relationship will never be.”
Like you, when my son stopped fighting the “little black shapes” and surrendered, he found peace. At least until the next young woman comes around. Then the key will be to remember.
Glad to hear he’s feeling better, Darrelyn. Unrequited love is the worst. It’s a good lesson to learn, the value of surrender. Life has got us by the short hairs and sometimes it’s better to just go with the tug. Thanks for the comment, and hope you guys are enjoying being Champions of the World!
Loved this post. In fact, I’ve enjoyed all of your posts. Thanks for the gift.
Thank you F.G., it means a lot to me to hear you value my blog posts. Blessings be!
Here in Holland there is a famous writer, Maarten ‘t Hart, whose work I appreciate very much, who had a period in his life when he dressed up as a woman. When he was asked why, he always said it was *because he loved women so much but couldn’t get them, that he had (unconsciously) decided to go do what he did*.
http://www.witmankleipool.nl/news/index.php?contact=1 (scroll to “September 2009″)
As a now-passionate supporter of the feminine process, I applaud his efforts, but may not emulate. Thanks Ron, for the comment!
Jung once said that “confronting one’s shadow self is an ‘apprentice-piece,’ while confronting one’s anima is the masterpiece.” Jung viewed the anima process as being “one of the sources of creative ability.” As such, your dream provided me with an answer to a question I have had for many months. My question: From where does his genius; his profound words, come? (he, being you)
So now I know, and I am both satisfied and pleased with the answer. Tom Howe’s profound words come from his own masterpiece, the beauty of his anima. So, as you “let that goddess in you be free,” please remember to continue sharing every subtle discovery made along the way.
Much gratitude to you for sharing, my friend.
Well, I can tell you right off the bat, Pamala, that if I say something profound it ain’t coming from me, unless it’s a profound complaint, maybe. Thank goodness most of me ain’t me, or I’d be screwed.
Who knows wherefrom we come? Not I. My anima has a better idear, I hope, but we are mostly at loggerheads. Until recently, anyway. Now we’re pals, I hope, if I have the courage to be that feminine. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
I will remember to share, dear one. Thanks so much for your generosity of spirit. And man I’m psyched to see you’re no longer a Tormented Soul! Wow! Your courage and mighty heart continue to amaze and gratify.
Synchronicity never fails to amaze me … This is my first visit to your blog … and just yesterday I brought a fridge magnet home that says, LET GO OR BE DRAGGED. I burst out laughing in the shop when I first saw it … Tonight I find your blog and this post … Thank you, and enjoy your new anima-friendship
Thank you Jaliya. It is funny how stuff works. I used to always be amazed how my reading seemed to form one long novel, as if I was being steered to read books in the correct order. Synchronicity is amazing. Glad you enjoyed the post, and you’re welcome.
Love and peace,
LWIII
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I get paid to help people discover their life purpose! And I laughed heartily when I read ‘life purpose according to …’. I’m going to share that with a lot of clients because so many of them are stuck in that place.
It is always a wondrous day when folks let go of everybody and everything else and start to focus on themselves. I believe that the world would be a much better place if we had less ’self-lessness’ and much more ’self-ishness’.
Explore your feminine, discover new ways of being in the world, oh great she-wolf unfolding into herself!
Thanks Gwen. Somebody said the greatest possession a person can have is a healthy self-esteem, and part of that is valuing one’s own insights over other peoples’.
I’ve had portentious dreams before that came to naught, at least as far as my conscious mind could tell, but I sure hope I remember this one. For a oerson raised in our homophobic culture, for a man to admit to his own femininity, however slight or large it may be, is an act of cultural terrorism. Or used to be, thank goodness. Viva la Mama!
I am the Great Goddess, or part of Her.
It may have been Heinlein who said, “Pure masculinity is nothing but a closed fist.” Or something like that.
Here’s to souls first, genders second.
LWIII