For any real creation, there must be a rage. It takes rage to break through the chrysalis of fear, pride, conventional thinking, our need for approval, or whatever is encapsulating us. Creativity requires the concentration of all our passion, our love, our anger, our rage, and our hatred—the concentration of all of these combined with our sensitivity and our thoughtfulness.
As our democracy has weakened, we have become increasingly ruled by predators and fear. We are afraid of taking risks, of speaking out, of being criticized, of not being politically correct, of being confronted, of offending family, friends, neighbors, and of losing business. Have we become afraid of being free?
Dear Reader, “Few are guilty but all are responsible,” the great religious scholar and leader Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote about the moral state of a people. As a people, we Americans are at a turning point in our history. …
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The quest of a love warrior is to never settle for an interior wasteland caused by a discouraged or barren heart. We must be seeking the Grail in the forests of our interior lives.
The white, educated, middle and upper-middle class now seems to have lost its spiritual ground of caring about the welfare of others. Pursuing the idols of achievement, materialism, money, and security seem to be its new religion.
Love does heal and it must begin within ourselves. We must become wounded healers with the knowledge of what has caused our wounds and how to heal them.
A Jungian perspective on the meaning of love in these challenging times. The potential to become love warriors is possible for all of us. It lies deep in our hearts waiting for us to have the courage to find it.
As I write this blog post, I realize I am in an interesting place. During the last few years, I have found myself, as a Jungian analyst, deeply involved with people in the suffering, fear, chaos and uncertainty of these …
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This is the story of three generations of my family’s relationship to our healthcare system. These are stories of suffering, struggle, and grief. They molded the lives of my family members. But I’m not telling them as tales of woe. I’m telling them to show the human side, my experience, my family’s experience of the financial costs of healthcare, and the cross these costs crucify us on. And for the first time I’m going to let my inner deplorables—my shadow side, long repressed—speak on the page.
Why do so many of us insist we need to have military-grade assault weapons? This question has haunted me for decades, and I am surprised that so few on our national scene have asked it. I also wonder why so …
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