Meditations
When teaching the power of the magical fantastic in story, I quickly learned that it was the shadow of the hero’s journey that I loved teaching most and sharing with others. In order for a hero to develop and thrive, there must be a counter to the light…there must be a shadow.
This month, many of us are more focused on the macabre than usual. I, however, really love these subjects of darkness, visiting graveyards, studying monsters, etc. on the regular. Let’s blame how dominant Scorpio is in my birth chart, arguably the witchy-est of all the signs. Beyond teaching about monsters and shadows, I even have spoken at conferences on “How Monsters Make us More Human.” So, I will take this chance this month to encourage this in our community, where meditating on things monster-like are all around us in décor and fall celebrations honoring our dead (like Día de los Muertos) and the longer, colder nights.
Monsters are based on human fears of our own potential, not from aspects so unlike ourselves. What makes Dracula so scary? His potential to take life, sure. But more frightening is his ability to deceive. It is not that he shapeshifts to a bat, but that he could deceive those around him that he was just like anyone else. Humans deeply fear deception, it makes it feel foolish and lowly. Dracula makes us deeply aware of this very human fear. Ghosts make us aware of our fear of the unknowable--the human ego wants to believe we are always experts. Witches remind us of our fear that some of our desires could take us to our extremes, could cause us to abandon moral high grounds we use to define ourselves.
my brief breakdown of monster theory
We have discussed the hero’s journey many times here at Literary Gastronomy. But without the monster, the hero could not thrive to be celebrated in the light. Here is the correlation of the monster to moving the hero through their journey:
Monster appears from darkness, then brings terror where there was once peace. Next, a hero is called to save the innocents and defeats the monster. Innocents rejoice and honor the hero. Finally, a monster reborn, or monster’s kin, or a new monster returns, to begin the cycle all over again (just as our life, our journey towards our most vital healed self, is always in cycle, evolving).
Have you ever considered that the monster within you is a beloved aspect which is working to make you a better human, the best hero of your own journey? Or do you repress those monster-like feelings out of shame and fear? Perhaps you even over-identify with monster traits like jealousy, anger, and distrust? (Listen to the hurt behind our brags around our fights, toughness, our ability to cut out others.)
I struggle to ever pick favorites, but I can usually say with confidence that my favorite book is The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov. The story is delightfully and frustratingly complex. However, to narrow down the focus for this month’s meditation, it is about the devil going to Moscow to preach about Christ to atheists. Why? Without belief in the hero of the story, the villain could not exist either. The novel shows the dance between light and dark as necessary to each other. Also, the anti-hero of the story is the devil figure, a dark and provocative twist on the original narrative.
There is lovely moment between Professor Woland, the devil, and Yeshua's, the Christ, key disciple in which Woland so eloquently states: “…what would the earth look like if all the shadows disappeared? After all, shadows are cast by things and people…Do you want to strip the earth of all trees and living things just because of your fantasy of enjoying naked light?”
Professor Woland inspired the Stones "Sympathy for the Devil"
We need monsters. We need the shadows. They are gifts and beloved, should we learn to meditate on a new perspective. The struggle is we tend to avoid, repress, and or over-identify to the point of the monster's lessons and magic being lost. Here is an interesting take on shifting the internal narrative on a “monster” (the witch) from the brilliant and brave Anne Sexton:
"Her Kind"
I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.
I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.
I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.
This month, allow yourself to befriend the aspects of yourself which you may consider monstrous: criticism, jealousy, desire, rage, depression, suspicion, shame, fear. When have you "been her kind"? Get to know that monster:
When does the monster/s often appear?
What do they truly want, desire, and need?
When did the monster first appear to you?
Who has seen this monster, only you or loved ones?
How does the monster treat others, how does the monster treat the reflection in the mirror?
If your monster could do one thing that wouldn’t harm you or someone else, what might they do?
Scream, cry in the shower, write a letter and burn it, dance wildly to loud music?
What would happen if you let the monster have that non-harmful need when it next appeared?
What would happen if the beloved monster in you was seen, heard, and loved not despite themselves, but just because they are a critical part of your own hero's journey? I have been her kind.
Be good,
Amanda
Sign up for 1:1 Wellness Consult this month, to explore these theories further as an aide to your health journey.
Be sure to subscribe to the newsletter for announcements on group containers in 2023...cooking up some good stuff, y'all.
October VVV prep for your book club:
Vino: Chianti (I blame Hannibal Lecter for this month's choice)
Verse: Nosferatu (film for those groups with a shorter attention spam) or Wuthering Heights (novel for my serious readers)
Vinyl: "Music To Make Me Howl at the Moon"