Discord in the Playroom

Not too long ago three new dolls joined our playroom family. Muscleman and Bobble-head St. Patrick were the first to settle in and it didn’t take long before Muscleman began imposing his will, bullying the other dolls.  He was constantly jostling Bobble-head St. Patrick and causing the rest of us grief.

But then Athena showed up.

Scale can be very disparate among dolls and Athena has a considerable size advantage over most all the rest of us.  That fact plus Athena Parthenos’ warrior mentality quickly changed the playroom dynamic.

Muscleman, as you can imagine, has a very large ego and he initially refused to recognize that his days of domination were over.  Athena had to whack him down a couple of times before he got the message.  Even then he continued to yell and boss dolls around but eventually things settled down and Athena no longer needed to wield her physical size and strength to maintain the peace.

The playroom has always been, up until Muscleman showed up, pretty egalitarian.  Most everyone tolerates others’ idiosyncrasies without too much complaint.  But, the turmoil did get me thinking about how tenuous group dynamics can be-how opinions can form and change and political pressures can develop-what can happen when a strong personality feels compelled to impose its will.

Bobble-head St. Patrick is really quite a pleasant doll but he does have the reputation of being quite strong willed.  What if he suddenly got the notion to evangelize and got some (maybe a lot) of the other dolls to embrace his religious beliefs?  Would we all then be expected to follow the tenets of their beliefs?

And then there’s Mini-Max, who’s quite materialistic.  He’s been accumulating toys of his own for some time.  He’s already been hinting that he could use more shelf space.  What if he began bribing dolls-offering them favorite treats in order to acquire more room for his possessions?  Would the rest of us end up having to live in the closet?

Well, hopefully my imaginings are nothing more than just that.  But, it does make me think a just and fair judicial system is nothing to sneeze at.

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Dreams

I had a dream the other night in which I became human; or rather I multiplied into five human children plus my normal plastic self.  We were all standing in front of Notre Dame Cathedral.  St. Francis was there.  The human DeiDeis seemed sort of mesmerized-focused intently on their surroundings as if they were anticipating an imminent occurrence or contemplating some sort of action.

When I awoke the next morning I couldn’t stop thinking about the incongruities in the dream.  I wondered what Dr. Freud would say but then I figured it would probably have something to do with sex and considering the presence of St. Francis and young naked girls I thought it best to just leave that alone.

Then I remembered reading about Carl Jung’s idea that deeply embedded within our psyches are primordial forms or archetypes common and meaningful to all self-conscious beings.  Certain situations like the Hero’s quest or the fall from grace, dichotomies like good vs. evil and light vs. darkness, and character types like the evil figure, the scapegoat and the outcast are just a few of these common archetypes Carl believed we all share; and he thought that sometimes these forms crop up during sleep when our unconscious is in charge.

I had to wonder if there could be archetypal meanings in my dream.

Being generally pretty upbeat about things my first thought was the dream must be about rebirth or renewal.  In this sense the saint might be the archetypal magician or Christ figure who transforms me: the many mes representing naked innocence seeking and discovering goodness and truth.

But then as I thought about it further the pragmatic me took hold; my ambivalence regarding structured religion suggested a darker aspect; maybe the dream was about evil overcoming good.  The saint becomes the archetypal devil casting a spell and creating six of me (six being the archetypal number of evil) to carry out the vile edicts of a corrupt church.

Well, the investigation was all very fascinating and I do think Carl’s got something with his notion of collective subliminal meanings, but  I’m going to be pretty careful who I talk to about my dreams and their meanings.

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Spectral Visions

I’ve always been a huge fan of Edvard Munch.  The psychological weight he was able to express in his paintings is just amazing to me.  But, I guess when you think about his life it’s not too surprising his artwork is loaded with existential angst.

First of all, his mother died when he was five and his favorite sister when he was fourteen.  His mother’s death so upset his father that he developed extreme religious anxieties; he would tell Edvard and his sisters stories about the eternal punishments awaiting them in Hell.  On top of that, Edvard was often ill causing him to miss a lot of school meaning he got to spend even more time with his father.

By the time he reached manhood he was spending a lot of time drinking and fighting and generally being unhappy.  Then, he was shot in a struggle with the only woman he ever loved (other than his mother and sisters).

After that he suffered a nervous breakdown, nobody liked his paintings and things were generally pretty terrible, but he continued making art; recording the painfulness of his life and eventually people came around to understand the beauty of his work; how effectively his images capture man’s existential dilemma.

Things got better.  Norway built a museum to house his works.  They even put his image on a bank note.

It all sounds familiar doesn’t it: another story of a misunderstood genius whose strength of vision carries mankind to new insights that help people to better understand who they are?

I guess it’s a story with a happy ending even though there was a lot of suffering involved.

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True Happiness

Pearl and Imacgirl got into a discussion the other day about whether one was better off and would be happier establishing firm beliefs or maintaining a healthy skepticism, you know, as a basic philosophy of life.

Imacgirl, the more pragmatic of the two, inclined as she is toward science, maintained greater understanding and happiness would be achieved by building on the core of established empirical truths methodically, the walls of which providing safety and security for the believer.

Pearl on the other hand, has a skeptical nature and is inclined toward unconventional explanations for what most would consider conventional wisdom.  She said doubting razes pre-established thought structures presenting unlimited opportunities.  Truth becomes an open question.  Walls disappear leaving one awestruck by the vastness of possibility and here, she said, is where true happiness lies.

My two friends were clearly at a stalemate so they asked me what I thought.  I guess it all came down to whether I would prefer the predictability of a life within the confines of common understanding or if I would throw caution to the wind, go where no doll has gone before and take my chances in the ethereal realm of the unknown.

Well, I told them that as much as I enjoyed abstract philosophical thinking what I really wanted to do was go for a walk in the woods, feel the breeze and listen to the birds. They decided to go along and eventually we all agreed that the experience we were having fit well with both philosophical positions.

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Age of Aquarius

My friend Astrid and I were planning to get together recently when she called to say she couldn’t leave the house.

Astrid is a strong believer in the efficacy of the Astral Plane as an indicator of future events.  She had just found out Saturn was entering her seventh house signaling Saturday, our planned meeting day, an inauspicious time to socialize.  Better, she said, not to tempt fate.

I thought about this for a while.  It all sounded pretty new-agie to me, but I decided to give Astrid the benefit of the doubt and found my birth chart on-line.

As you might imagine determining the exact time and date of my extrusion wasn’t easy.  The year was printed on the bottom of my left shoe; I consulted my keeper as to purchase date, estimated delivery time and took into account the slight flaw on my shoulder as an indicator of a rush job probably done shortly before the end of workday.

Anyway, my chart indicated among other things the moon was in Aquarius just passing into my eighth house.  What this suggested was my head was full of original ideas but that I would have the tendency to be selfish and blunt.

Being the skeptic I am I called Pearl.  We went out and had quite a good time.  I thought I was quite a pleasant companion until Pearl told me she hadn’t noticed the smear on my shoulder before.  I responded by telling her she wasn’t exactly Miss America herself.

Pearl just shrugged off the comment but it definitely got me thinking:  I wonder what will happen when the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars?  Will peace guide the planets and love steer the stars?

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Hypocrisy

I was visiting with Granny Applehead the other day.  She was waxing nostalgic about her days in secondary school.  She remembers each day began with students rising from their seats, putting hands to hearts and pledging allegiance to the flag.  No one really questioned the validity of the activity back then but, she said, as she thinks about it in retrospect it was pretty clear there was strong intention to instill in young minds a religious sense of nationalistic propriety: America, land of the free and brave has God on her side.

She surmised it was easier back then when everyone was pretty well on the same page regarding God and country.  There were a lot fewer people asking the big questions.

I guess explanation can be found in the post-WWII politics of the times and dealing with godless Communism.  You know, prep these young minds for Holy Wars to come.

Social critique has tempered the blatant flag waving.  The mind manipulation of the young is subtler now but it’s pretty clear we still think of ourselves as being in God’s favor; ready and willing to impose our beliefs and life-style on the rest of the world.

Granny just shakes her head at what she sees as the hypocrisy of our self-perceived sense of fairness and equality for all: as long as everyone conforms to our values and beliefs.

On my way home I was thinking about what the world would be like if everyone was like me: skeptical seekers, always questioning, investigating the new, comparing the old, reaching toward the limits of one’s capabilities to find what may lay beyond.  As egotistical as it may sound, I can’t see that as being a bad thing in the least.

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Psychoanalyzing Sigmund

Dr. Freud determined the libido controls man’s nature.  He thought the male child was engaged in a constant struggle to overcome his father in order to claim his mother and demonstrate his power in the world.  He said he figured this out because of his own attraction to his mother and jealousy of his father and if it was the case for him it must be the case for everybody.

The female child, meanwhile, was in envy of male potency as symbolized by the male genitalia. I guess he was saying we are all controlled by our physical bodies and our minds simply respond to our animal natures.

Dr. Freud must have thought about sex quite a bit; he ended up having six children.

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What emotions look like

I was thinking the other day how emotions sometimes creep up on a person, how they seem to come out of nowhere.  Suddenly one finds herself overwhelmingly attracted to someone, for instance, or some trivial incident leaves one extremely agitated for no apparent reason.

When one finds herself deeply in love it often comes as a revelation; one moment content in singularity and suddenly deeply connected to another.  Or, consider anxiety, how it can wheedle itself into your consciousness.  It lies in wait, bides it’s time until finding you at your most vulnerable, teases you with what in normal circumstances would be ridiculously mundane but now is horribly threatening.

It makes me think the ancients weren’t just being poetic when they personified emotions and that makes me wonder what these personified emotions might look like. Emotions, of course, aren’t simple; take love: it isn’t only erotic but can be love of beauty and wisdom or altruistic care for others. Does that make Love a multiple personality?  Maybe there are a whole team of Loves that travel around together. I think Erotic Love might look like Eve in the Garden; the original innocent lover and first mother. Anxiety I can see as a clown. He hides his true nature, presenting himself as something he’s not; a malevolent entity harboring one’s deepest fears.

But then, as I think about it, perhaps it’s the other way around.  Eve is the temptress, the cause of man’s downfall, the conspire r with evil; the clown is the innocent, timid, lover, his unrealized passion revealed in his attempts to please.

I guess it’s up to the individual to paint the picture with the colors she finds most appropriate.  I’m inclined toward the evil clown but I must admit it may be because I can’t get Pennywise the dancing clown from Stephen King’s ‘It’ out of my head.

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A Life of Contemplation

Lately, I’ve been thinking what it’d be like to go off someplace where I could live more simply; someplace away from the distractions of the ever-depressing news of the day and the energy sapping ego conflicts of the workplace.

I could spend my days contemplating the inherent nature of existence; I could immerse myself in the eternal flow of life.  I would find my center and be at one with all things.  You know, like St. Anthony (the ascetic) did.

For nearly forty years Anthony lived a hermetic existence in the desert existing on the rare crust of bread offered him by passing pilgrims.  He rid himself of all desires of the flesh in the belief that through asceticism ultimate truth would be revealed to him.

There was one night, though, when hedonistic desires descended upon him like a torrential downpour.  He wanted, wanted, wanted: good food, good drink and women of any sort.  All night he suffered.  He fought back with every ounce of his energy.  When morning finally came Anthony was spent from the night’s exertions but was also strengthened in the knowledge he could overcome temptation.  His resignation was renewed, but with it, the fear of even greater tests to come.

I’m really not too worried about this happening to me.  Food and drink aren’t important to a doll and I’m really not that into primal urges.The Temptation of St. Anthony 3

Beauty or Beast?

Have you ever thought about how much physical appearance determines the person one becomes?  I mean, would the Barbies be so shallow and smiley all the time if they didn’t have such symmetrical, svelte features?  Would Woody Allen have developed a nervous, quick, humorous repartee or Christopher Reeves have been the strong silent type?

Even among children the larger toddler seems to command greater respect from her peers.  Given normal intelligence such a child is likely to fall right into the role of leader of the pack.

I guess my diminutive size and unexceptional appearance has led me to a life of solitary introspection and contemplation.  I’m not complaining.  It’s pretty clear to me one can be too exceptional; take King Kong.  All he wanted to do was spend some time with Fay Wray but because of his size everyone was afraid of him and wouldn’t leave him alone.

I’ll be content to just be who I am.

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