Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Corvallis

Corvallis, Oregon

 

The Soul’s Code: Who Am I?

Sunday, October 1, 2005

Rev. Gretchen Woods

 

Reading:

     from The Soul’s Code: In Search of Character and Calling 

     by James Hillman

 

The concept of this individualized soul-image has a long, complicated history; its appearance in cultures is diverse and widespread and the names for it are legion. Only our contemporary psychology and psychiatry omit it from their textbooks. The study and therapy of the psyche in our society ignore this factor, which other cultures regard as the kernel of character and the repository of individual fate. The core subject of psychology, psyche or soul, doesn’t get into the books supposedly dedicated to its study and care.

 

I will be using many of the terms for this acorn – image, character, fate, genius, calling, daimon, soul, destiny – rather interchangeably, preferring one or another depending on the context. This looser mode follows the style of other, often older cultures, which have a better sense of this enigmatic force in human life than does our contemporary psychology, which tends to narrow understanding of complex phenomena to single-meaning definitions. We should not be afraid of these big nouns; they are not hollow. They have been merely deserted and need rehabilitation.

 

These many words and names do not tell us what “it” is, but they do confirm that it is. They also point to its mysteriousness. We cannot know what exactly we are referring to because its nature remains shadowy,  revealing itself mainly in hints, intuitions, whispers, and the sudden urges and oddities that disturb your life and that we continue to call symptoms. (p. 10.)

 

Sermon:

     “The Soul’s Code” Who Am I?”

 

         James Hillman continues his meditation on The Soul’s Code with this story:

Consider this event. Amateur Night at the Harlem Opera House. A skinny, awkward sixteen-year-old goes fearfully onstage. She is announced to the crowd: “The next contestant is a young lady named Ella Fitzgerald. . . . Miss Fitzgerald here is gonna dance for us. . . .  Hold it, hold it. Now what’s your problem, honey? . . . Correction, folks. Miss Fitzgerald has changed her mind. She’s not gonna dance, she’s gonna sing . . .”

 

Ella Fitzgerald gave three encores and won first prize. However, “she had meant to dance.”

 

Was it chance that suddenly changed her mind? Did a singing gene suddenly kick in? Or might that moment have been an annunciation, calling Ella Fitzgerald to her particular fate. (p. 11.)

 

This concept fascinates me: that we are not only a collection of genes that predispose us to certain skills and gifts, we also comprise a form of energy/consciousness that is called to live a particular life that fulfills a calling we may only dimly perceive.

 

Are you one of the certain ones? Did you know from early in your life what your calling and character is? Did you follow it? Or did the voices around you find a way to drive you into the path they thought was best for you?

 

This Tuesday, we begin a two-part exploration of James Hillman’s ideas in The Soul’s Code, so I am not going to repeat that now. Today, I would like to explore with you some of the ways that our lives take us away from our path, some of the ways we may find to return to it, and  how all this relates to true maturity and what I call “radical responsibility.”

 

Before I do that, though, I want to offer a further disclaimer from Jim Hillman that I think is also worthy of our thought:

 

Despite psychology’s reluctance to let individual fate into its field, psychology does admit that we each have our own makeup, that each of us is definitely, even defiantly, a unique individual. But when it comes to accounting for the spark of uniqueness and the call that keeps us to it, psychology too is stumped. Its analytical methods break down the puzzle of the individual into factors and traits of personality, into types, complexes, and temperaments, attempting to track the secret of individuality to substrata of brain matter and selfish genes. More strict schools of psychology kick the question right out of the lab, packing it off to parapsychology for the study of paranormal “callings,” or to research stations in the distant colonies of magic, religion, and madness. At its most bold, and most barren, psychology accounts for the uniqueness of each by a hypothesis of random statistical chance.

 

I refuse to leave to the lab of psychology that sense of individuality at the core of “me.” Nor will (I) accept that my strange and precious human life is the result of statistical chance. Please note, however, that these refusals do not therefore bury our heads in the folds of a church. The call to an individual destiny is not an issue between faithless science and unscientific faith. Individuality remains an issue for psychology – a psychology that holds in its mind its prefix, “psyche,” and its premise, soul, so that its mind can espouse its faith without institutional Religion and practice its careful observation of phenomena without institutionalized Science. The acorn theory moves nimbly down the middle between those two old contesting dogmas, barking at each other through the ages and which Western thought fondly keeps as pets. (p. 11.)

 

Whew! Perhaps you will understand this tirade better, if you know that one of Hillman’s books is entitled , One Hundred Years of Psychotherapy and the World Is Getting Worse: this from a man who has dedicated his life to bettering human beings through psychotherapy.

 

Still, I am amazed how many people wind up in my office sometime between the ages of 35 and 55, driven by a free-floating sense of dis-satisfaction with themselves and their lives. They ask me, “Who am I? What am I supposed to be doing with my life? I know it is NOT what I am doing now.” As we explore these questions, they often retrieve dreams from their childhood, some long forgotten, but never gone. Some find a new direction they never considered  before. But all seem driven, not by their experiences of childhood, but by some inner daimon or genius that has not given up on the “marching orders for this life.”

 

How can we access this daimon, this acorn, this calling? First, we need to get into our own bodies, into our own heads. You may not believe it, but you are entitled to a safe space within your self, behind your eyes, where only you are allowed. All others are invited in. Take a moment to become conscious of being behind you eyes, in your head, looking out so that you can see the edges of your eye sockets, your eyelashes, and your eyebrows. You could even create a little room inside your head where you can keep your self safe.

 

As you are doing this, you may hear all kinds of voices, or maybe one strong voice, saying, “This is nuts!” Whose voice is that – and why is it so negative? Remember this is only metaphor: a tool to open your inner knowing! I am willing to bet that what you hear is a voice from your past that is invested in keeping you on the current path they have given you. It could also be a voice of fear that knows listening to your own voice will change your life, and doesn’t want that to happen.

 

Which leads me to the next part of this process: releasing contracts you have made with all sorts of people about how and who you are supposed to be in this world. We have contracts with our parents, our teachers, our children, and myriad other people we don’t even remember. We have contracts with those who abused us, those who demanded great things of us, those who benignly denied us any attention unless we did what they wanted and needed. Our process is to listen to these voices, come to understand who they are and why the contracts with them are no longer valid for life to be the full, rich life it is meant to be.

 

Eventually we begin to hear a small voice – or, perhaps, a raging voice, because it is sick of being ignored – that lets you in on the dreams and desires of your inner knowing, your psyche, your soul. This is your acorn, your calling. When it speaks clearly, we may withdraw and refuse to accept its call, but at least we will finally know what it is. Sometimes the demands seem so heavy that we must withdraw and wait until we develop the strength and/or the skills to fulfill this calling. This was so for Manolete, the matador who was small and sickly and fearful as al child, but grew up to change the world in which he worked. He had to spend time growing, but, eventually, calling has its way.

 

We may deny this daimon all our lives, but the result is usually a sense of malaise and disquietude. When we begin to accept calling and take steps to fulfill it, life goes much more smoothly, in my experience. I did not find my calling until I was 35. Then I allowed ten years to become a Unitarian Universalist minister. I was done in less than five and found a congregation that needed me almost immediately, even though I came into the settlement process very late in the settlement cycle.  This is the sort of affirmation that arises in the life process when we are moving in synch with our daimon.

 

I observe something else Hillman does not address: who we are is a process, not an event, so even when we find our calling, we continue to refine and expand upon it. This goes on for one’s whole life. I believe it is also part of listening to one’s calling: it is constantly adjusting to the events of one’s life. Two years into my first ministry, I realized that I knew about theology, ethics, religious education, and biblical studies, but I had no idea what was going on among the people I was trying to serve. That led me to pursue a doctorate in human systems, which may not be necessary for most ministers, but surely I needed to provide decent ministry to people. Who we are is a process, not an event. Another way to say this is that we are not beings, we are becomings, who need not only to hear our inner voices, but to listen on a regular basis.

 

If we respond to our calling, we step into a world in which we accept  radical responsibility for our lives. We can no longer blame our parents, our abusers, our children for the choices we make. I think this is a sign of true maturity: that we now own our own lives and our own choices. This does not assume that chance does not affect our lives. I do not believe that a three-year-old has a choice about being raped. I do believe that the day may come when that violence will not be the total story of that child’s life; that his or her daimon will bring forward his or her power, gifts, and talents, given half a chance and a good listen.

 

There is “radical responsibility,” the ability to respond from one’s own knowing and one’s own spirit or soul, rather than feeling it is necessary to respond from fears derived from one’s past or demands made by others in one’s life. This is the ability to bring to fruition in the world the best of what one has to give. Most of us never fully achieve this, but starting cannot be a bad thing, unless our daimon calls us to demonic behavior. That is the basis for a whole other sermon, for which we don’t have time today.

 

I believe choice and chance both affect our lives. And I believe we can make better choices when we take and make time to hear our own inner voices speaking in resonance with our Source. This offers us the opportunity to engage better in the process of co-creating our lives with all the forces around us. It allows us to hear the call toward “greater intensity and harmony,” and to respond with the best we have to offer.

 

Mary Oliver writes of this process in her poem “The Journey:

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice—

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

“Mend my life!”        

each voice cried.

But you didn’t stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do—

determined to save

the only life you could save.

 

What a blessing to our world!: to save your own life, to bring your best to the march of time, moving with the forces for the greater good of all with respect, responsibility, and relish for the process. In the end, that may also save our world, if we do it together.

 

So Be It! Blessed Be!

 

 

Order of Service

“The Soul’s Code: Who Am I?”

Sunday, October 1, 2005

9:30 and 11:00 a.m.

 

Welcome and Announcements

 

Prelude:

     “The Marrakesh Night Market” by Loreena McKennitt

 

Chalice Lighting

 

Opening Words

 

Opening Song

     #188 “Come, Come, Whoever You Are”

 

Sounding the Shofar

 

Sharing Time for all Ages

 

Candles of Joy and Sorrow for all Ages

 

Sung Response:

     “Follow the Flame”

         Follow the flame to search for truth and meaning.

 

Reading : from The Soul’s Code  by James Hillman

 

Celebrating with Music:

     “The Two Trees” by Loreena McKennitt

 

Sermon:

     “The Soul’s Code: Who Am I?”

 

Spoken Response

 

Offering and Offertory

 

Meditation

 

Closing Song:

     #131 “Love Will Guide Us” (verses 1 &2)

 

Closing Words

 

Closing Song

     #131 (verse 3)