Do what though wilt shall be the whole of the Law
In my 20’s I spent four years in the British Army. I wasn’t a particularly good soldier, nor a particularly bad one, just a young guy doing something to raise money to go back into education, and choosing in a way to embody an archetype that many young men feel called to, that of the warrior.
I left the army in 2007 after 4 years and 2 tours of active service. I went back into education, completed a bachelors degree and later a PhD. At one point a friend and teacher commented that the army didn’t seem to have left a lasting impression, and in some ways, I would have agreed at that point. But the reality is very different once you dig beneath the surface. In the army they sometimes say a person has ‘green blood’, that is to say they are a soldier beneath their skin, and now, nearly 20 years later, I would have to agree, the psyche has a way of revealing what the conscious mind overlooks or seeks to avoid, ‘the truth will out’ so to speak, as we will see.
After leaving the military, for many years I would dream that I was back in my old regiment, in the barracks, with old comrades and people I had served with. There were also anxiety and avoidance markers; often I would be without my kit, or carrying too much, or wondering where my helmet or other essential bit of kit was. Mostly there was something that needed doing before heading off on some journey.
Usually I was annoyed, upset at being back there, I thought I’d left all that behind and yet there I was, still in uniform, still a soldier, if an unwilling and unprepared one. Dreams of this sort replayed for years on and off: recall, unpreparedness, a journey, unwilling to go back or frustration at the situation and inability to fix or control it. All these things expressing my inner attitude towards the Geburah archetypes in a more or less unintegrated way; rejection of the responsibility, of the job in hand that I didn’t want to do, inability or unwillingness to face the reality of it.
Occasionally these would be interspersed with dreams of an enemy that I was unwilling to face, a feared conflict. Again, all myself trying to avoid facing something, feeling that I’d done what I could and wanted out, that I wasn’t ‘a soldier’ anymore and it was nothing to do with me.
These weren’t memories recurring, memories actually don’t come up much at all, and unlike many I never developed any symptoms of PTSD, no flashbacks or panic attacks or that sort of thing. Rather, the images I see were symbols, the psyche circling something it wasn’t ready to face directly. I am reminded of a book that made a deep impression on me as a child, Ursula Le Guin’s novel ‘A Wizard of Earthsea’, where the Gebbeth figure, the protagonist’s shadow grows stronger the more he fled from it. These dreams have the same numinous quality: pursuit by something I didn’t want to acknowledge, thoughtless flight in fear and loathing from an unseen horror.
Gradually this shifted, life has a way of putting things in your path whether you like them or not, and somehow, we have to adapt. As life goes on and we consciously adjust, our inner/initiatic processes mirror this, and the internal, subconscious self adapts to the reality of things. In short, we mature. Here we see a slow turn from unintegrated Geburah, all avoidance and resistance, towards a more mature relationship with the warrior archetype, if we are willing to bear with it.
Last nights dream marked a step towards integration of sorts, and that at the behest not of the Ruach/Ego, but the insertion of archetypal, Briatic structure and material into the dreamscape. In this dream I was in a red sandy battlefield, with other soldiers in a unit that had been reconstituted, and I was a member of it, I knew these men (Karma, Fortune, the path of Kaph). This was different, mythic rather than personal, and definitely Geburan in nature: it wasn’t training, or the barracks, or searching for kit, I was on the journey, in the field, and much less looking for a way out in the usual sulky sense of refusal to participate that usually marks such dreams, I was in the thick, thinking only about how to survive.
We were under fire, and gradually all my comrades were killed until only I remained, alone (Yod, The Hermit), solely responsible, the only one left to make a decision. There was also one enemy soldier left; not a monster, but a highly skilled special forces soldier (skilled, aware, worthy, not a mindless monster but a warrior worth facing). This was no ordinary dream projection but a being with agency, a ‘player’ rather than an ‘NPC’, in modern parlance.
While I tried to creep close to avoid detection, he suddenly rose up in front of me where I hid behind a sand bank. When I went to open fire the trigger on my rifle just fell right off. I could do nothing. The ego’s tool, the soldiers rifle failed in the moment of crisis. In Geburah we can’t always just open fire when things get intense. Another approach is needed. The correct approach may be indicated by the tarot Atu ‘Strength’, and the path of Teth, which in a certain sense indicates grace. Out of the strong came forth sweetness.
I ran, I ran through the red sand desert (Classic Mars Geburah landscape), through old building and houses, barrack rooms and other familiar places (Yesod and Hod, the familiar structures of identity and memory, and here representing the path of the Tower, the path of Peh, where the tower is finally broken). I emerged at night into green fields of arable crops under a starlit sky (Netzach, organic, fecund, alive). This segment of dream imagery clearly showed how the process was going to play out in Yetzirah. But rather than a rearranging of the psychological furniture, this is a flight through the Sephirah UP the path of the lightning, not away from it. Fleeing to find a weapon, to fight, not fleeing in terror.
The enemy soldier was still following me, the enemy army was still on my left, dug in just behind the hill and partially obscured by tall crops. At night all I could see were vast shadowy shapes like monsters and unknowable terrors ready to be let loose, vast, archetypical forces seen at a distance. Creeping past, hoping to find a weapon or an escape, I was suddenly accosted by a group of enemy soldiers. At that moment I knew I was caught, and I also knew that there was only one way out, only one ‘password’, so to speak. I stood up, with my hands up and shouted “I’m just like you. We’re not different!” Here we have recognition at an ontological level, and the separation between what I am and what I am not, the Briatic ego mask can finally dissolve at the recognition. Again this goes deeper than the shadow of the ego as described by Jung and Le Guin, back to the Geburah root of the Neshemah in which the first soldier was the test and the guide, the group of soldiers thus constitute the inhabitants of the Sepirah.
At my words they changed, they came closer, examined my kit, my broken rifle, spoke to each other in a foreign language, were more curious than aggressive. In that moment of recognition, the enemy ceased to be an enemy. The shadow became human. By recognising that kinship I had survived and been allowed to enter. Like the wizard Ged turning at last after long flight to face the Gebbeth figure, the shadow that grew stronger the more he fled, the alienated part of hisself that he dare not acknowledge. The act of recognition, of integration, dissolved the perceived threat of the unknown ‘other’ and allowed genuine communication to occur.
What had pursued me for years as a perceived enemy became human, became manageable and relatable. In that that moment something in me finally turned to face myself, to utter the name of the shadow, which is my own name. For years these dreams showed me running from duty, from responsibility, my own psychological resistance preventing integration, but now, knowing the password, finally turning towards it, accepting, integrating, and being made whole by it.
In initiatiory terms this also highlights how we often need to revisit paths and processes at different levels as we go on, paths are never completely finished but remains open, recurring in the four worlds. My first time crossing the path of Peh many years ago now was fairly conceptual, yetziratic, psychological, involving the collapse of intellectual certainty and the illusions of thought and control, the breaking of a rigid Ruach. And now at the archetypal level where the story of the self, the ‘karma’ of the initiate, is destroyed by the supernal lightning and for the first time in a long time new energy can enter the world.
Love is the law, love under will.