Shamanic fear of death
Humanity’s most primal fear is the fear of death. The desire to escape physical death is a fundamental fact of human existence. Recent technological advancements in medicine and robotics have made the ability to live forever a much more tantalizing possibility. In this lecture and workshop, we will explore the meaning of this primal fear and fundamental yearning, using humanity’s oldest story, The Epic of Gilgamesh, as our guide. This story from ancient Iraq tells of the exploits of mighty King Gilgamesh whose fear of physical death compelled him to seek out a legendary figure considered to be the only human granted immortality by the gods. Gilgamesh’s exploits reflect enduring truths about our fears and desires and suggest how we can better prepare for life’s ultimate goal. During the Friday lecture, we will discuss the contemporary search for immortality and sketch the elements of the Gilgamesh story. explore the roots of our own yearning for immortality with the Gilgamesh story as a valuable guide.
contemporary search for immortality; transhuman abomination. We will then examine the epic for clues that relate to King Gilgamesh and his afterlife role as the central figure of a religious organization devoted to learning the secrets of life after death. Along with recognizing the archetypal pattern of the return in dreams, art, and religious symbolism, we will use the epic to help us understand the importance of the relationship between ego and the unconscious as the key to overcoming the fear of death. We will conclude with an exploration of the roots of our own yearning for immortality.
Gilgamesh sought his own afterlife and searched for the plant of immortality.
The Pharoahs built whole cultures around the continued worship in the afterlife.
Tied to loss, grief, fear of death and a cascade of other primordial responses for which we seek comforting explanations. Now, with a 6th Mass Extinction at hand, our eons long meditation on death may at last come to a end, and may, indeed, be the only way 'the All can reunite with the All' in the nondual.
dissolution and grand dissolution
"The lower regions have already been described. Kabir Sahib goes on to say that dissolution extends to the top of Brahm, while the grand dissolution extends to Sohang or Bhanwar Gupha, the fourth spiritual region. Only Sach Khand remains unaffected, and that is our real Home. That is why Guru Nanak has said that the Vedas had their origin from Om or Brahm, the land of the three lower regions, while the sadhu goes beyond."
Lucian of Samosata is the author of a satirical dialogue titled Μένιππος ἢ Νεκυομαντεία, dating from A.D. 161-162, which, as German classical philologist Rudolf Helm (1872-1966) argues,[7] may be an epitome of the lost Nekyia of cynic philosopher Menippus. In The Lives of the Philosophers, Diogenes Laertius lists the Nekyia among the thirteen works composed by Menippus (Vitae philosophorum, VI, 101). In Lucian's dialogue, Menippus, perplexed by the conflicting accounts of the afterlife put forward by Homer, Hesiod, the philosophers, and the tragic poets, decides to discover the truth for himself. He therefore enlists the help of a Babylonian Magus, named Mithrobarzanes, in order to visit the underworld. Mithrobarzanes performs a necromantic ritual, and the two descend to Hades, where they see Pyriphlegethon, Cerberus, the palace of Pluto, Charon, and the rest of the mythological machinery of the Greek underworld. Ultimately, the underworld setting serves Lucian as a vehicle for satire on not only the rich and powerful, but also the philosophers.
Humanity’s most primal fear is the fear of death. The desire to escape physical death is a fundamental fact of human existence. Recent technological advancements in medicine and robotics have made the ability to live forever a much more tantalizing possibility. In this lecture and workshop, we will explore the meaning of this primal fear and fundamental yearning, using humanity’s oldest story, The Epic of Gilgamesh, as our guide. This story from ancient Iraq tells of the exploits of mighty King Gilgamesh whose fear of physical death compelled him to seek out a legendary figure considered to be the only human granted immortality by the gods. Gilgamesh’s exploits reflect enduring truths about our fears and desires and suggest how we can better prepare for life’s ultimate goal. During the Friday lecture, we will discuss the contemporary search for immortality and sketch the elements of the Gilgamesh story. explore the roots of our own yearning for immortality with the Gilgamesh story as a valuable guide.
contemporary search for immortality; transhuman abomination. We will then examine the epic for clues that relate to King Gilgamesh and his afterlife role as the central figure of a religious organization devoted to learning the secrets of life after death. Along with recognizing the archetypal pattern of the return in dreams, art, and religious symbolism, we will use the epic to help us understand the importance of the relationship between ego and the unconscious as the key to overcoming the fear of death. We will conclude with an exploration of the roots of our own yearning for immortality.
Gilgamesh sought his own afterlife and searched for the plant of immortality.
The Pharoahs built whole cultures around the continued worship in the afterlife.
Tied to loss, grief, fear of death and a cascade of other primordial responses for which we seek comforting explanations. Now, with a 6th Mass Extinction at hand, our eons long meditation on death may at last come to a end, and may, indeed, be the only way 'the All can reunite with the All' in the nondual.
dissolution and grand dissolution
"The lower regions have already been described. Kabir Sahib goes on to say that dissolution extends to the top of Brahm, while the grand dissolution extends to Sohang or Bhanwar Gupha, the fourth spiritual region. Only Sach Khand remains unaffected, and that is our real Home. That is why Guru Nanak has said that the Vedas had their origin from Om or Brahm, the land of the three lower regions, while the sadhu goes beyond."
Lucian of Samosata is the author of a satirical dialogue titled Μένιππος ἢ Νεκυομαντεία, dating from A.D. 161-162, which, as German classical philologist Rudolf Helm (1872-1966) argues,[7] may be an epitome of the lost Nekyia of cynic philosopher Menippus. In The Lives of the Philosophers, Diogenes Laertius lists the Nekyia among the thirteen works composed by Menippus (Vitae philosophorum, VI, 101). In Lucian's dialogue, Menippus, perplexed by the conflicting accounts of the afterlife put forward by Homer, Hesiod, the philosophers, and the tragic poets, decides to discover the truth for himself. He therefore enlists the help of a Babylonian Magus, named Mithrobarzanes, in order to visit the underworld. Mithrobarzanes performs a necromantic ritual, and the two descend to Hades, where they see Pyriphlegethon, Cerberus, the palace of Pluto, Charon, and the rest of the mythological machinery of the Greek underworld. Ultimately, the underworld setting serves Lucian as a vehicle for satire on not only the rich and powerful, but also the philosophers.
"The analysis of older people provides a wealth of dream symbols that psychically prepare the dreams for impending death. It is in fact true, as Jung has emphasized, that the unconscious psyche pays very little attention to the abrupt end of bodily life and behaves as if the psychic life of the individual, that is, the individuation process, will simply continue. … The unconscious “believes” quite obviously in a life after death."
--Marie-Louise von Franz (1987)[3] http://jungiancenter.org/the-art-of-dying-well-a-jungian.../
--Marie-Louise von Franz (1987)[3] http://jungiancenter.org/the-art-of-dying-well-a-jungian.../
Thirteen years after his near-death experience Jung wrote a chapter in his memoirs “On Life after Death.”[28] Ever the empiricist, Jung drew on his personal experiences in formulating his opinions, and so it was here. He states forthrightly, in the beginning of the chapter, that no one can know for certain about the afterlife, as it is one of those things “which pass our understanding.”[29] Jung recognized that his NDE left him with unforgettable experiences, but not irrefutable proof of life after life. So Jung turned to story—mythologizing—an activity that, Jung admitted, “scientific man” finds mere “futile speculation,” but which serves as “a healing and valid activity” for our emotional nature.[30]
In creating his story about life after death, Jung drew on his recollections of his time out-of-body in 1944, but also on the “hints sent …from the unconscious,”[31] e.g. in dreams and in the “mythic traditions” that have come down to us from many different cultures over thousands of years. What sort of story did Jung create? What image did he offer us?
On Life after Death
by C.G. Jung " ...give an answer to the question of the interplay be
tween the "here" and the "hereafter." Yet I have never written expressly about a life after death; for then I would have had to document my ideas, and I have no way of doing that. Be that as it may, I would like to state my ideas now."
http://www.near-death.com/experiences/notable/carl-jung.html
In creating his story about life after death, Jung drew on his recollections of his time out-of-body in 1944, but also on the “hints sent …from the unconscious,”[31] e.g. in dreams and in the “mythic traditions” that have come down to us from many different cultures over thousands of years. What sort of story did Jung create? What image did he offer us?
On Life after Death
by C.G. Jung " ...give an answer to the question of the interplay be
tween the "here" and the "hereafter." Yet I have never written expressly about a life after death; for then I would have had to document my ideas, and I have no way of doing that. Be that as it may, I would like to state my ideas now."
http://www.near-death.com/experiences/notable/carl-jung.html
Jung used the images of the Nekyia, of "the night journey on the sea ... descend into the belly of the monster (journey to hell)", and of "'Katabasis' (descent into the lower world)"[11] almost interchangeably. His closest followers also saw them as indistinguishable metaphors for "a descent into the dark, hot depths of the unconscious ... a journey to hell and 'death'" – emphasising for example that "the great arc of the night sea journey comprises many lesser rhythms, lesser arcs on the same 'primordial pattern,'"[12] just like the nekyia.
The post-Jungian James Hillman however made some clear distinctions among them:
The descent of the underworld can be distinguished from the night sea-journey of the hero in many ways… the hero returns from the night sea-journey in better shape for the tasks of life, whereas the nekyia takes the soul into a depth for its own sake so that there is no "return." The night sea-journey is further marked by building interior heat (tapas), whereas the nekyia goes below that pressured containment, that tempering in the fires of passion, to a zone of utter coldness ...The devil image still haunts in our fears of the unconscious and the latent psychosis that supposedly lurks there, and we still turn to methods of Christianism – moralizing, kind feelings, communal sharing, and childlike naivete – as propitiations against our fear, instead of classical descent into it, the nekyia into imagination… (Only) after his nekyia, Freud, like Aeneas (who carried his father on his back), could finally enter "Rome".[13]
Perhaps James Hillman’s “psychology of death” — introduced last week — may yield further insight into both Emerson’s decision to look inside his wife’s coffin and his consequent rebirth out of emotional and psychological ruin. In the pages referenced last week, Hillman writes that most of us have very active defenses against death (imaged mythologically as Hades, god of the Underworld). We prefer to avoid considerations of death and mortality, whenever possible giving pride of place to intimations of immortality instead.
While Hillman (like Jung before him) argues that this last, i.e., the idea of an afterlife, is indeed natural and important to humankind, the point is that so too is an awareness of our emotional and bodily mortality here and now. In this vein, Hillman writes that “Death in the soul is not lived forward in time and put off into an afterlife. It is concurrent with daily life as Hades is side by side with his brother Zeus.”[5] According to Hillman, the problem lies in our “defense against Hades,” or, put differently, our “defensive identities with life.”[6] So often we do everything in our power to escape (our fear of) death, preferring instead feelings of excitement and invincibility, hope and possibility. We prefer spirit but forget the equally important and deepening present-minded soul.
To a certain degree, the spirited avoidance of death is behind many of the anxieties and addictive or compulsive behaviors which plague us individually and collectively. We are split off from half of our selves, the half which the ancient Greeks imaged as Hades in the Underworld. Hillman argues that one way to reconnect with this half is to do what many Renaissance writers, thinkers, and artists did, or rather what they did not do: they “never lost touch with disintegration and death,” a fact which enabled them to “let go of all seemingly irreducible objectifications of human personality, whether it be the organic body, the human personality, or subjective awareness [. . .].”[7]
Perhaps James Hillman’s “psychology of death” — introduced last week — may yield further insight into both Emerson’s decision to look inside his wife’s coffin and his consequent rebirth out of emotional and psychological ruin. In the pages referenced last week, Hillman writes that most of us have very active defenses against death (imaged mythologically as Hades, god of the Underworld). We prefer to avoid considerations of death and mortality, whenever possible giving pride of place to intimations of immortality instead.
While Hillman (like Jung before him) argues that this last, i.e., the idea of an afterlife, is indeed natural and important to humankind, the point is that so too is an awareness of our emotional and bodily mortality here and now. In this vein, Hillman writes that “Death in the soul is not lived forward in time and put off into an afterlife. It is concurrent with daily life as Hades is side by side with his brother Zeus.”[5] According to Hillman, the problem lies in our “defense against Hades,” or, put differently, our “defensive identities with life.”[6] So often we do everything in our power to escape (our fear of) death, preferring instead feelings of excitement and invincibility, hope and possibility. We prefer spirit but forget the equally important and deepening present-minded soul.
To a certain degree, the spirited avoidance of death is behind many of the anxieties and addictive or compulsive behaviors which plague us individually and collectively. We are split off from half of our selves, the half which the ancient Greeks imaged as Hades in the Underworld. Hillman argues that one way to reconnect with this half is to do what many Renaissance writers, thinkers, and artists did, or rather what they did not do: they “never lost touch with disintegration and death,” a fact which enabled them to “let go of all seemingly irreducible objectifications of human personality, whether it be the organic body, the human personality, or subjective awareness [. . .].”[7] http://blog.mythfire.com/?p=3101
"Even now I can do no more than tell stories —"mythologize."Perhaps one has to be close to death to acquire the necessary freedom to talk about it. It is not that I wish we had a life after death. In fact, I would prefer not to foster such ideas. Still, I must state, to give reality its due, that, without my wishing and without my doing anything about it, thoughts of this nature move about within me. I can't say whether these thoughts are true or false, but I do know they are there, and can be given utterance..." = Jung
JUNG’S EMPIRICAL APPROACH
In the course of his long life Jung was frequently asked to make authoritative statements on ultimate matters such as immortality or the nature of God. He always steadfastly maintained, however, that he was not a theologian or a metaphysician, but an empiricist, and would assert only what he could back up with experience and observation. Religious leaders who felt that the weight of his testimony would be invaluable to a doubting public implored him to state what his own beliefs were, even if his scientific conscience would not allow him to regard them as proved. But his invariable reply was that he was so constituted that he could only know or not know. If he did not know, he could not believe, and if he knew, he did not need to believe! This was no mere witticism, for he would add that belief was a gift of Grace, but one which had not been vouchsafed to him. However, he would go on to say, as in a BBC interview some three years ago, [in1960] that when he found sufficient reasons for a hypothesis he naturally accepted it, and would in consequence assert that certain possibilities deducible from it must be reckoned with. Whether there is any fundamental distinction between this attitude and the reverent agnosticism of a theologian acutely aware of the limitations of man’s mind may well be doubted. Witness the closing sentence of a recent book by Ralph Harlow, retired professor of Religion at Smith College: “Yes, I believe, in spite of those doubts with which my mind struggles, and probably always will struggle in this world. I still believe in immortality.” [A Life After Death, by S Ralph Harlow, Doubleday and Co., N Y, 1961]
Immortal Yearnings: Mystical Imaginings and Primordial Affirmations of the ... By Annamaria Hemingway