Dear Friends
At the ‘height’ of the pandemic back in 2020, I was invited by TEDx Melbourne to be part of an evening of short, timed lectures. Given the strict lockdowns in the city at that time, I delivered it to a live audience via Zoom from my home. An odd sensation — which has become more familiar since — as I strutted the ‘stage’ of my living room speaking to an empty screen with a virtual TEDx backdrop. The experience recently revisited me and, as I remembered the topic, it seemed connected to last month’s missive. With no recording of it available elsewhere, I thought it might be fun to share the (lightly polished) transcript here:
“There’s an ancient Sufi tale about an old mystic searching in the dirt under a gas lamp for a ring of gold — his most treasured possession. His friend offers to help but to no avail. Eventually, the friend says, “Are you sure you lost it here?” and the mystic says, “Oh no, I lost it over there,” pointing way off into the darkness. “Why are we looking here, then?” says the friend, to which the mystic replies, “because this is where the light is.”
There’s some humour in the scene, of course, but the point is well made. What if — in spite of opposing societal narratives — the willingness to consciously descend into the darkness of our own collective grief and pain is exactly what’s required right now?
This ancient idea, which Greek mythology refers to as katabasis, can lead to a resilience and depth of understanding that creates a life of meaning and purpose. It requires a journey into the underworld to face darkness and trials before a profound transformation and emergence with newfound wisdom.
A different kind of ‘emergency’ altogether.
In this current moment, is humanity being called to embark upon such a descent? An initiation — a threshold of maturation so tragically missing in modern culture — which involves an inner journey to examine the very root of our suffering.
Perhaps only after that can we begin to reimagine our future together.
A decade ago, after many years as a corporate executive endlessly chasing the ‘highs’, I was brought back down to earth by the sudden death of my younger sister and my mother, as well as my own diagnosis with a rare blood cancer. My resistance to ‘descend’ and look at my own pain landed me in a psych ward, but after a period in the underworld, the lessons I learned created the life I have today. Harsh as it sounds, if you’d known me beforehand, you’d understand that this was the medicine I required. I wouldn’t have responded to anything less impactful.
Among other new pursuits, I went on to become a Kundalini Yoga teacher — in many ways as a nod to my mother who had followed a similar path. It’s interesting to me that shaktipat, the Sanskrit term for Kundalini awakening, means ‘descent of grace.’
Wildfires, civil unrest, systemic racism and violence, the pandemic; I would suggest these are bringing us closer to a tipping point, and all appear to be offering the same, dare I say it, opportunity.
However, we humans have such a strong tendency to avoid discomfort. We are programmed to believe that ‘the only way is up’. Be it the stock market, the corporate ladder, peak experiences, spiritual bypassing, everything is about continual rise.
Up and out.
We are constantly striving to shoot for Mars, both figuratively and literally.
Our resistance to conscious descent has had its own consequences during lockdown, leading to increases in alcohol consumption, domestic violence and so much more.
Perhaps the call to descend has been hidden in plain sight? After all, we are locked down, not up.
Allowing one’s self to descend may seem like a radical act, but consider this. When a seed sits upon the earth, the first thing that breaks through is the radicle, the primary root, which descends deep into the soil to create a solid foundation from which the plant can grow. Only then does the shoot break the surface.
Deep roots.
Let’s first grow down, rather than up. Let’s learn to swim in the dirt before we try and walk on water.
Let’s stop searching for the elixir of happiness in all the easy places and pay attention to what might actually be called for right now.
Collectively, it might be possible to descend to the stars.
And with that, friends, my time is… up.”
As I read this now, I’m reminded how the need to stay in the light often comes with a desire to uphold the illusion of safety. During the pandemic, I wrote a poem called ‘Staying Safe’:
Stay safe
and nothing is harmed (at first)
but nothing thrives.
We preserve life (for a time),
but cannot create it.
Infertility sits at the centre of the kingdom.
Run from safety, say the ancients,
rise in ecstatic love of nature’s dance.
A seed must break the surface of the earth
for the genius within
to become the Great Oak.
A baby in the womb is safe and warm,
but she must risk entering the world
or both mother and child will die.
Let us call in our wildness.
Not savage, but fierce.
Do not withdraw from the very act of living,
for a culture that celebrates safety
is already dead.
Oceans of love,
Asher
Notes:
May sees our usual fare at The Fifth Direction, with regular weekly meditation, breathwork and storytelling sessions enhanced by Elder Wisdom, Mythic Musings and our new Grief and Celebration circle.
I must also mention the upcoming ‘Return of the Maiden King’ with myself alongside Kristina Dryža (and special guest filmmaker Haydn Reiss). Together, we will re-animate a series hosted in the late 1990’s by poet Robert Bly and Jungian psychologist Marion Woodman, based on the ancient Russian folktale The Maiden King.
It all begins on the evening of Thursday, June 4, and is free to existing members of our community. Public tickets are also available.
Thank you 🙏 Asher. I so loved I could sit back and listen as you shared!
How to grow down? ... lots to ponder!