Last 100 Posts

Once there was a Prince who had lost his mother. He seemed rather unaffected and even sang at her funeral, though, thereafter, he developed a terrible fear of death. He went to his father the King and said, ‘Father, I do not want to die, I’m going to take refuge with the Queen of Forever, where no time passes.’ After much travail he reaches the Queen’s castle and finds the way barred by three massive gates, each guarded by a fierce monster. A servant bakes magical loaves of bread which tempt the monsters to quit their posts and so the … Continue reading The Prince who wanted to live Forever.

Hans had completed seven long years of work for his Master who rewarded him with a great lump of gold. The gold was very heavy and Hans was soon utterly worn out from carrying it. A man passed on his horse and asked what the trouble was, kindly offering to swop his horse for the gold so Hans could ride along. Hans was well pleased though when he mounted up the horse bolted and threw him down. A lady with a cow passed and helped him up, generously relieving Hans of the troublesome horse for the amazing cow which would … Continue reading Hans in Luck.

However life began, whether by accident or design, what we can be reasonably certain about, despite epochs of not very much happening at all, is that it was all of a sudden. Life is a binary arrangement, things tend to be alive or not without a great deal of dithering in between. Whatever it was must have happened in the blink of an eye. The concept of Spontaneous Generation is probably way older than Aristotle who first put the idea on paper, suggesting that life sprang from inert compounds provided ‘pneuma’, breath or spirit, was present such that this sudden … Continue reading On Pneuma and the Psychoid.

Once there was a very poor man with a dozen hungry kids. Full of despair he wandered into the forest to see what he could find to feed them all. There he encountered a rather strange little man who smelled of burnt chicken feathers and had hooves instead of feet. The Devil, for that’s who it was, asked after the poor man’s situation and when the story was told he reached deep into his pocket and drew out a Little Walnut. ‘Here, take this walnut, ask anything of it and it will provide.’ ‘But, you must surely want something for … Continue reading The Little Walnut.

Overheard on a train. A man was talking about his experience of being in analysis to his friend. The friend asked, ‘so what do you think is the main difference that psychoanalysis has made in your life?’ The first man replied, ‘well, beforehand every day was just the same old thing.’ ‘And now? asked the friend. ‘Well now’, he perked up, ‘its just one thing after another’. The Torah says, ‘you do not see the world as it is, you see it as you are.’ The World is moulded and filtered by the psyche; world as projection-receiving Matrix which we … Continue reading Analytic Alchemy.

Once upon a time there was a poor old woman whose husband had died. She had a son, Lazy Tom, who might have been a help but the boy was so lazy he simply added to her burdens. Lazy Tom would not lift a finger to help himself or anyone else. One day his mother begged him to go down to the river and fetch some water. ‘I would gladly go, but I am far too lazy,’ he replied. Only when she began to leap up and down and go a dark shade of purple did he agree to help … Continue reading Sloth.

Once upon a time two seafaring travellers were shipwrecked by a great storm and thrown ashore with nothing more than their lives and the clothes on their backs. They climbed the cliffs and staggered into a nearby village going from house to house begging for help and food. The local people were mightily put off by their ragged appearance, by their desperate eyes and unintelligible language. One after another they rebuffed the strangers, saying that they could not understand the guttural words or the wild gestures. Eventually the travelers reached a ramshackle cottage and knocked on the door. An old … Continue reading On the Unintelligible.

Once there was a Poor Man whose sole possession was his horse. He earned his wages by carting others’ goods about. They rode out in all weathers to keep themselves fed and kept. The Poor Man was a kindly sort and loved his horse. One day Horse spoke saying, ‘I know you love me, though my loads are heavy… so I want to help you. Set me free and I will return with the means to change our lives. The Poor Man was a bit dubious. Would Horse ever come back having tasted freedom? What if something bad happened? How … Continue reading The Poor Man and his Horse.

One of the most pernicious trends afoot these days, dwarfing even the aggressive stupidity of superpowers, is the embattled ailment between Narcissists and Empaths. FB is full of it. A wide spectrum of social media touts the means to identify the enemy not unlike the tell tale markings attributed to medieval witches. U tube has one video after another on ‘the signs’ of Narcissism, how the evil one operates, gaslights and turns sour the milk of human kindness. There follows a plethora of advice on how to manage, manipulate, arm wrestle and otherwise defeat the wily Narc in a variety … Continue reading Resolving The Ailment.

Long ago and far away a king was once going along in his carriage when he overheard a woman by the roadside proclaim that if she was chosen as the king’s bride she would bear him twin sons with hair of gold. He was intrigued and stopped the carriage, inviting her up… They quickly fell in love and were soon married. Before long the new queen was with child.. In the castle there also lived a wicked witch who had long wished that her own ugly daughter would be queen. She was enraged that her plans had been thwarted. When … Continue reading The Shadow Complex.

Once there was a great King who was also humble and wise. He liked to see how the people lived and would occasionally slip out of the Palace in disguise to see what was going on in the kingdom. One day he rode his horse a long long way, across a wide and barren plain, till he came to the dwelling of a Poor Man. The disguised King knocked on the door and asked for food and lodging which the Poor Man gladly gave. In the morning the unsuspecting Poor Man sent the King on his way with the last … Continue reading Why Good people Suffer.

Once there lived an old man and an old woman both of whom had daughters by previous marriages. The old woman hated her husband’s daughter and eventually threw her out saying she should go and find work. The poor girl was saddened and scared but did as she was told and set on her way. After a while she came across a pear tree which begged her to trim its dead branches and though the work was difficult and hard on her hands she did her best before walking on. Then she came to a vineyard and the vines cried … Continue reading The Process of Individuation.

Once there were two estranged brothers who lived on different sides of the mountain. Both were dirt poor and had loads of hungry kids. One day the eldest brother decided to go out into the forest and see if he could find some nuts but all he found were oak apples. He decided to go down into the village and try to sell them anyway. Meantime the younger brother had gone out in search of poppy seeds. He came home empty handed but filled up his sack with ashes, thinking to go and dupe some poor fool in the village … Continue reading The Two Brothers

One day Pot had become very bored. It seemed to be no life at all to be merely making porridge and so it confided in Walking Stick that it was off to seek its fortune. Walking Stick decided to tag along since it felt that to be a Walking Stick was likewise no life at all and so the two went out into the world. On their travels they came across the Old Man of the Mines who took fright at such an uncommon sight and ran off to take shelter. As he ran the gold he carried on his … Continue reading The Pot and The Walking Stick.

31st October, All Hallow’s Eve There was once a man who had three sons all of which wanted to get married . Their father decided to set them a task, saying that whoever could bring him the most beautiful flowers would be the soonest wed. The two older lads already had brides-to-be in the village and between them they quickly produced beautiful garlands. The youngest had no paramour as yet and set off into the dark forest despairing of how to find any bouquet worthy of attention. In the depths of the forest he found an ancient crone all gnarled … Continue reading The Witch.

A story from Japan tells the tragic tale of the diligent man who had a terribly lazy wife. She was so lazy that he had to do absolutely everything on her behalf. One day he had to go away for a few days. He was really worried about this, concerned that she would fail to feed herself. So he devised a plan and cooked a donut shaped loaf of bread which he then put on a string and tied around her neck. Several days later when he returned he found her sat in the same chair he left her in, … Continue reading The Lazy Wife.

There was once a poor woman who had a single son. One day she returned home to find he had gone. Little did she realize that he had been spirited away by Devils who had taken him down to Hell where they made him work and slave in torment for seven long years. After his time was up they assigned him seven rooms for himself to clean and dust and sweep. In the seventh room was a magic lock in which lived twelve more Devils. He worked and worked on the lock until he freed it from its chains, then … Continue reading The Magic Lock.

Having served his master faithfully for seven years, Hans decided to return home and see his Mother. His master gave him his wages, a large boulder of gold. Hans struggled along with the boulder for some time until it began to cut into his shoulders. He met a rider and traded the boulder for the horse, which was much better because he was not only free of the burden but speeding along! Only, the horse did buck him off a few times and was a bit unpredictable so he traded the horse for a cow which was a great improvement … Continue reading Lucky Hans.

There was once a great King who had everything he wanted. He bedded every concubine he fancied. He told people what to do. Sometimes he chopped off their heads if he was in a bad mood, or if they looked at him. He rose when he felt like it, went to bed when he wanted and ate whatever he could imagine in between. There was no-one to remind him to wash behind his ears, nor to slurp his pearls dissolved in vinegar, or wipe the blood from his bejewelled dagger. Now, you’d think the satisfactions of such a great and … Continue reading The King’s Bread

In the Godfather part III, there is an assassination by helicopter gunship scene, perfectly ambushing the gang members in what they perceive to be their eagle’s nest. One of the horrified mobsters runs for his jacket as the machine gun fire pours in, screaming, ‘my lucky coat, my lucky coat!’ Eventually he reaches the precious coat and grasps it to him, just as he is unfairly cut to pieces. Who knows what might have been possible if he’d a few more seconds… The pathos is that this tough mobster is not simply trying to save his coat but that in … Continue reading The Lucky Jacket.

Once upon a time there lived an ancient ruler, the Red King, who presided over a land in sad decline. The king himself was miserable all day long. Despite his wealth and power he could not enjoy it. The most exotic foods tasted bland. His courtiers had forgotten whether he was short or tall. Eventually his son the Prince went to him, asking the matter. The king dolefully explained that his great friend, the White King, was trapped in the Golden Forest. He was held prisoner by a Wicked Witch who daily sent droves of her minions to the Silken … Continue reading The Silken Meadow.

From the fringes of the Ottoman Empire comes a story about a foolish farmer who was trying to catch a horse in a field and stumbled across a very large and unusual pumpkin. The pumpkin so perplexed the farmer he forgot about the horse. What could it be? He touched it, then he smelled it. Something had to be done. So he took it to the village council for their wise deliberation. The Mayor, who was a very clever fellow, noticed that it looked like an egg and so therefor that is what it must be. The farmer confirmed it … Continue reading The Horse Egg.

In old Japan there once lived a poor man and his wife. They had no children and so they gave all the love they had to their dog, ‘Shiro,’ which means ‘white’ because he was white from nose to tail. They fed him the best of scraps and played with him in the evening after dinner. One day Shiro was digging beneath a tree at the bottom of the garden, barking like mad. The old man went to see and to his amazement found that Shiro had dug up a great treasure of gold coins. His envious neighbour had meanwhile … Continue reading The Beloved.

Once there were two brothers, both dirt poor and with more kids than they could feed. One of the brothers went into the forest to gather nuts he might sell at market. The other collected poppy seeds with the same idea. On the way to market they met and agreed to exchange sacks, though each cheated the other. The one substituted ashes for the poppy seeds and the second handed over half a sack of oak apples instead of nuts. When they got back to their respective homes the two brothers are furious to find out what the other has … Continue reading The Two Brothers.

Once upon a time there was a childless couple. Their sadness was so great that eventually the man went off to carve a stump he found in the forest until it resembled a boy and took it home to his wife. That night while they slept the wooden boy came to life and woke them up. They were amazed and admired him till morning. After breakfast Wooden Peter asked his father for eight florins to buy a sword, the first the local blacksmith had ever made. After much searching the blacksmith bought out a small rusty sword and strapped it … Continue reading Wooden Peter’s Oxen.

In Olden Times, when wishing still helped .. there lived a King with a radiant daughter. Their castle lay hard by a great Forest, within which there was a cool well. On a warm summer’s day the Princess would go and play by the well with her golden ball, a favorite plaything. One day the ball fell in the water and was suddenly swallowed up. She sat there crying when up popped a massive, bloated Frog.. ‘Do not weep… I can help you, but what will you give me?’ ‘Whatever you please, my pearls and jewels, even my crown…’ ‘Er, … Continue reading The Frog King.

‘The Giant Tree’ is a Hungarian precursor to ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’. According to the Aarne-Thomson-Uther classification of fairy tales this makes it one of the Indo-European proto-stories, a story which would have been established in the oral tradition at the dawn of kingship, tens of thousands of years ago. This older story gives us a closer look into the collective situation with it’s greater and nuanced detail. It is a story stood on the threshold of a whole new social structure, City states and their semi-divine kings, alongside the further emergence of ego consciousness, all at a time when … Continue reading The Giant Tree.

Years ago and far away there lived a Rich Man with his three sons. One day his house burned down, which came as a terrible shock because he only had four others. What if another should burn down? What would then become of his sons’ fortune? And so he called them to him and told them they all had to go out and get jobs. The first became a soldier, the second a blacksmith and the third a barber. Each went off to ply their trade. The Rich Man then went to see the Priest, unnerved by his loss and … Continue reading The Rich Man’s Three Sons.

Once upon a time, many years ago and faraway, there lived an aging king with three daughters. He was undecided about whom to leave the richest of his three kingdoms, so he called them together to put them to the test, saying the greatest treasure would go to the one who could tell him best how much he was loved. The first daughter came forward and curtsied low, ‘ Father, I love you as a dove loves good grain.’ The second daughter curtsies lower, ‘Father, I love you as the hot summer day loves a cool breeze.’ The third daughter … Continue reading The Salt Princess.

Of all his official duties the President’s Pardoning of the Turkey is perhaps the most strange. It seems quaint and light hearted, something for the kids, a benevolent gesture to reassure going-on-being. And yet it is also oddly disturbing. If you’d dreamed that you were in the Rose Garden and the President pardoned a Turkey sat on a tray of vegetables you’d want a bit more analysis. Even more so if you were to discover the roots of such a ritual of forgiveness are way older than the more recent story of Roosevelt returning a gift, having been given more … Continue reading A Turkey, Pardoned.

‘What is the Devil to me anyway?’ you ask. Could He not simply be anything which frustrates or thwarts intention? Or the opposite, the seduction of an easy life? See how it gets so tricky, so quickly? Taken a bit more seriously, ‘what does the Devil want with me and why?’ Psychologically, ‘what does it mean to ‘integrate’ the Shadow? Is it even possible? How exactly might you do that? The problem of Evil existed way before the Church got a hold of it and turned it into such a polarized issue. In ancient times Good and Evil existed on … Continue reading Dealing with the Devil.

A man goes into a bar. At the door he pauses and straps a large potato to his head. He then strides forward purposefully and orders a beer. The regulars look at one another doubtfully. One taps his temple. Another makes la-la noises. A third eventually asks, ‘Dude, why are you wearing a potato on your head? The stranger turns to him like he was sat in his own back yard and says in a lazy drawl, ‘to keep the tigers away, of course.’ The regulars exchange confused looks, ‘but there are no tigers in these parts, stranger.’ ‘Yep,’ says … Continue reading Real Men.

Mother Goat had seven Kids. One day she left them at home while she went to the meadow to cut some fresh grass. ‘Don’t let anyone in’, she warned them,’ the big bad Wolf is hereabouts.’ Sure enough within half an hour the Wolf shows up pretending to be Mother. He puts on his sweetest caring voice, ‘oh let me in for I have fresh grass for you.’ The Kids laugh out loud because they can hear the gruff voice belongs to the Wolf and mock him from the safely shuttered windows. The Wolf goes off, educated in his error … Continue reading The Seven Little Kids.

I am so proud to be a part of this great new book, ‘Depth Psychology and Climate change; The Green Book’, edited by my dear friend Dr Dale Mathers. The book is a mytho-poetic look at climate change through the eyes of an international posse of Jungian psychologists. If you are concerned about climate change and you have enjoyed my blogs, you will glean more in a similar vein from this timely volume. ‘This is a visionary book, where depth psychology meets deep ecology. The authors explore, explain and expound solutions to the challenge facing our planet. Contributors are analysts … Continue reading The Green Book.

Plague and Lockdown do strange things to your psyche. If you can’t go out you have to go in, which can be just as dangerous to your health as crossing the doorstep. Sometimes fear and enforced isolation can evoke great things from a person. Shakespeare wrote ‘Hamlet’ in isolation during a bout of plague, though let’s face it, whilst adversity may bring out the best in Shakespeare, the rest of us are less likely to vibrate at the creative end of frustration and constraint. Our own personal responses to covid may seem absolutely of their time because we have no … Continue reading The Plague Party.

I read somewhere that the average adult, male or female, has a sexual fantasy every eight seconds. What I want to know is, what are the rest of you doing with your other seven seconds? ‘Cos it seems to me that most of mine last quite a lot longer than the time it takes for the next one to kick in; giving rise, if you will, to the frolicking joy of fantasy overlap. Or is it that everyone else somehow manages to compress the heaving bosom of their carnal saga into an infinitesimal sound bite, extrapolating, Zen-like, some quintessential erotic … Continue reading Sex, Soul and the Breast.

Sleep and wakefulness are not as easy to tease apart as you might expect or hope for. They sometimes seem to invade one another. In lucid dreams you find yourself awake in another world. Sometimes ‘reality’ can seem entirely dreamlike. Why is there a Christmas decoration in the bathroom soap dish? Or goons on the streets? ‘And then I see the disinfectant where it knocks it out in a minute. One minute. And is there a way we can do something like that, by injection inside or almost a cleaning?’ DJ Trump. How would it be to live as though … Continue reading The Sleep of Reason.

Horus had been seduced by his wicked uncle Seth. Confused and outraged he went to his mother Isis to tell her what had happened. Isis didn’t believe him. In fact she cut off his hands by way of both accusation and punishment, then threw them into the Nile where they sank into its deepest trench. Fortunately, Ra, the Sun God, had seen all of this from on high. He wondered what he might do for Horus and approached Sobek, the Crocodile God, asking him if he might swim down and retrieve the severed hands. Sobek didn’t fancy the job. Naturally … Continue reading The Dark Redeemer.

The Snow Queen is a story which charters an heroic journey to redeem a traumatized and divided self resulting from a very specific kind of emotional wound. Our story begins with an evil hobgoblin who is commissioned to create a terrible, magical, mirror. It’s special power is to reflect back distorted images, leading those who look into it to believe they are ugly and without worth. Worst of all, the mirror is broken by clumsy underlings who then inadvertently shower the world with enchanted shards and slivers which can get into your eye causing you to see everything in a … Continue reading The Snow Queen

Love him or hate him the world is glued to Trump’s Phoenix mega church play date with his worshippers. But will this slow train wreck of a Presidency finally burst into flames in Phoenix? It seems rather likely. Somehow the intersection of plague, collective denial, magical immunity fantasies and an age old need for the dying king to sacrifice his finest to the Gods in order to prolong waning power is all too tempting for Fate to leave alone. The part of Trump who would be king is bound by convention to propitiate the Gods with the lives of his … Continue reading Phoenix Aflame.

There was once a king who would not allow his daughter to marry. He kept her shut up in his castle and turned all her suitors away. One fine day she asked him pretty please and since it was indeed such a fine day, if she could not walk briefly in the meadow below the castle walls? Eventually the King agreed but warned her not to go too far… lest some harm come to her. The Princess walks out into the meadow and there she finds a young man who is sooo handsome she immediately falls in love. He is, … Continue reading The Jealous King.

Once there was a young hero whose prospective father-in-law threw him out of the house, threatening to beat him if he ever returned. The poor lad was entirely dejected. He didn’t know what to do. One day, a strange little man in red clothes appeared to him as he walked aimlessly through the woods, promising him great wealth if only the lad would give him the amulet he wore around his neck, gifted to him by his Grandmother. The poor boy’s thoughts were so taken up by his current situation that he readily parted with the amulet, eager to find … Continue reading The Fern Flower.

In the wildly phantasmagoric, ‘Essene Gospel of Peace’, an alchemical coagulatio of Gnostic wisdom and late neolithic enema rituals [great if you are handy with a calabash], there comes a bucolic moment when the Master berates his followers for going on at such great length about their suffering and how much they are tormented by Satan.. ‘Satan torments you thus because you have already fasted many days and you do not pay to him his tribute. You do not feed him. You torment him with hunger.’ Psychologically, ‘You are over-identified with being good. You therefor deny, split off and project … Continue reading Giving the Devil his Due.

There was once an old soldier trying to get home after the war. He walked from village to village, begging alms along the way, for he had no money and nothing to eat. Every place had barely enough to give him the strength to get to the next and he began to wonder if he could make it, even though he was now close to home. Finally, faint with hunger, he came upon an impoverished hamlet. His legs barely carried him in on blistered feet. Sunken cheeks and eyes in dark shadow foretold his starvation. He went slowly from house … Continue reading Stone Soup.

Years ago and far away there lived a Miller and his wife who were famous for the fine flour made by their riverside Mill. Though they prospered, the Miller and his wife privately harbored a secret grief, they had no child. As the years went by this secret sadness gnawed away at each of them such that all the things they prized seemed to wither away. The horse got thin and mangy. The roof had fallen in a bit, the flour had weevils and business had all but dried up. One evening, the poor Miller, feeling cursed, went and sat … Continue reading The Water Fairy.

King Sisyphus was renowned for being a braggart. He had a reputation for being mean to travelers and way farers because it helped to promote the image of his iron-fisted rule in the popular imagination. This annoyed Zeus under whom travelers and strangers are protected. But mostly what pissed Zeus off was that Sisyphus betrayed secrets. He thought himself magically beyond the rules of confidence, once revealing the whereabouts of Asopus’ daughter Eagina, who was having it off with Zeus at the time, to her father in a Quid Pro Quo for causing a spring to flow on the Corinthian … Continue reading On Magical Thinking.

In the wake of the Civil War in America a curious movement sprang up across the South, Pentecostal snake-handling. Putting the dramatic and often deadly details of these rituals aside for a moment, a most fascinating aspect of this evangelical burlesque, one in which no member of the congregation could guarantee they’d make it through to tea and biscuits, is that it arose by what Rupert Sheldrake would call ‘morphic resonance’. ‘The beginnings of Pentecostal snake handling rituals cannot be ascribed to a single person. The observance arose independently on multiple occasions.’ Wiki In other words, the snake handling pastors … Continue reading Sacrifice and the Snake-Handler.

There is a cautionary tale from Ireland which tells the story of a foolish man who refused to listen to the promptings of his inner world. He lived way up on the moor in a ramshackle croft. It was so run down it had no lintel above the door. The winter wind swept in and the man shivered by his low peat fire wondering what to do. Then he had a brilliant idea. At the top of the moor was an ancient standing stone which had been there since memory began. Perhaps it had been erected by his ancestors, unknown … Continue reading Mama’s Angry.

Carl Jung identifies two distinct kinds kinds of thinking. The first is rational, problem solving and rooted in language. He calls it directed or reality thinking which originates in, ‘the first stirrings of a cry to our companions that water has been found, or the bear been killed, or that a storm is approaching, or that wolves are prowling round the camp.’ Jung The second kind of thinking is very different and way older, fantasy thinking. This kind of mental activity is not rooted in language but in feelings, images and daydreams. ‘The former operates with speech elements for the … Continue reading The Shepherd and the Snake.

Once upon a time there was a Poor Man, a Merchant and a King. One day the Merchant was out hunting in the forest and became lost. For three days he tried to find his way out. Eventually he exclaimed, ‘if only someone could show me the way out of this terrible forest I would give him three sacks of gold and the hand in marriage of the most beautiful of my three daughters. Immediately, a small hedgehog appeared and said, ‘come with me, for three sacks of gold and the hand in marriage of your most beautiful daughter I … Continue reading The Hedgehog Prince.

Once upon a time there was on old king who had two sons. The king was so old and sick he could not leave the castle. One day, from a window, the old King spied a magical bird atop a steeple which then flew off into the forest. Filled with longing, he asked his youngest son to go and fetch it. The Prince happily set off and spent the day searching the forest. When darkness falls the Prince built a fire. As he sat warming himself a Fox approached the camp. The Prince sets his dog on the Fox but … Continue reading The Fox Princess.

Once upon a time there was a king with three lovely daughters. One day he decided to go to market and asked what they would like him to bring them. The eldest wanted a golden dress. The middle one wanted a silver dress. The youngest, who was a bit difficult, wanted a bunch of talking grapes, a smiling apple and a jingling, tingling peach. The king confidently set off and easily found the dresses of gold and silver but nowhere could he find the magical fruits and had to return without them. On the way back the road became so … Continue reading The Pig’s Bride.

based on a story by Anton Chekov. Once there was a poor shoemaker who was so hard up he had to work on Christmas Eve finishing a pair of boots for a wealthy patron. He cussed and complained under his breath as he labored, taking frequent swigs from a bottle hid under the work bench. ‘Why must I slave like this whilst others are tucked up in their beds?’ he muttered. ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if all the rich folk were destroyed! Then I could be rich and lord it over some other mean cobbler..’. Dreaming like this he suddenly … Continue reading The Shoemaker and the Devil.

The perennial story of the Virgin and the Unicorn sprang into our popular imagination at a time when monotheism and the moral codes of kings supplanted the subtle distinctions to be made between spirit and soul with faith and being good. A living connection with the gods which had thus far kept people in charge of their own religious life was broken. Spirit and soul had to go underground, burying themselves in the universal symbolism of a collective dream. There are few perennial stories. So when you find one, its worth psychological inquiry. The tale of the Virgin and the … Continue reading The Virgin and the Unicorn.

A decommissioned soldier down to his last crust happens upon a dark wood. Unable to find work or food he throws himself on the mercy of the forest and wanders in. Suddenly a strange little man is stood before him. He promises him wealth and riches if only the soldier will come down to Hell and serve him seven years. In addition, as with the story of ‘Bearskin’, the soldier may not wash or cut his hair and nails as he goes about his duties. The soldier agrees and the Devil takes him down, down, to the kitchens of the … Continue reading The Devil’s Sooty Brother.

Grimm’s fairy tales have a number of stories about the Devil. They all have a pronounced theme running through them. He is instrumental in the protagonist’s transformation and wants not their souls but their old worn out identities. Before the Church got hold of the Devil and gave him responsibilities absent from his job description, it was widely recognized that the Shadow of Consciousness had to be carefully propitiated in order not to run foul of it. In other words, the Devil had to be given his due, not by way of succumbing to wickedness, nor even by the psychological … Continue reading Bearskin.

This is a story from Russia, identified by the ATU classification of fairy tales as deriving from one of four prototypical stories anteceding the Indo-European language divide, six thousand years ago, perhaps at a time when emerging ego consciousness was separating out from and having to come to terms with the ground of its being. There was once a Blacksmith who decided to show his respect for the Devil by painting an image of him on the gate of the Smithy. Whenever he went into the Smithy he would look at the Devil and say, ‘what-ho countryman’ and this way … Continue reading The Devil and the Blacksmith.

There is a parable about a man from the country who goes in search of The Law. He arrives at the entrance to the Halls of the Law, guarded by a mean looking Gatekeeper who blocks his path, saying he may not enter at this time. The man from the country tries to persuade, then to cajole and finally to bribe him but the gatekeeper is resolute and will not let him in, though he does give him a stool to sit on. Hours turn to days and weeks to years. The man from the country continues to badger the … Continue reading Before the Law.

The Devil became concerned his polls were tanking so he called his apprentices together for an emergency meeting to see what could be done to improve the ratings. ‘We are in serious trouble,’ he told them. ‘People are getting woke and seeing God everywhere, even in each other. They are beginning to care about the planet. They’re converting to Tofu. Before long we will all be out of a job. What bright ideas do you have?’ The first apprentice, who had advanced degrees from the Halls of Malfeasance in Pure and Applied Delinquency with minor subjects in Mischief and Annoyance, … Continue reading The Devil’s Apprentices.

According to the Arne/Thompson/Utter classification of fairy tales, ‘The Queen Bee’, is among the oldest in oral tradition, stemming from a time before the division of Indo-European languages and perhaps at the dawn of the division of I from Thou. Three king’s sons went out to seek their fortune. The older two ganged up on the youngest, calling him a simpleton and keeping all the best food for themselves. One day they came to an ant hill. The older boys decided to rip it up and see the ants run about in terror but the Simpleton stood over the nest … Continue reading The Queen Bee.

The story of Rapunzel begins with her father stealing the herb Rampion from a witch’s garden for his wife’s pregnancy cravings. He is caught and the witch demands the child yet to be born in payment. She locks the child in a tall airless tower without company or stimulus. The witch visits by climbing up her long tresses having called out.. ‘Rapunzel Rapunzel, let down your golden hair…’ A passing Prince overhears all this and becomes curious. Once the witch is gone he calls out… ‘Rapunzel Rapunzel, let down your golden hair…’ and is soon cooing sweet nothings with Rapunzel … Continue reading The Grace of Rapunzel.

When I was a young kid in boarding school, White Africa’s version of Eton, I had been left there over a half term, along with a scrawny gaggle of other doubly rejected scum whose loving parents hadn’t the time to bring their kids home for the holidays. Matron had taken pity on us one miserable afternoon and invited us into her flat to watch TV, an unheard of privilege. I sat there on her carpet, wriggling with the strain of reconciling the rarity of the treat with the circumstances which had led to it. Deep down I knew what I … Continue reading Gifts of an Open Heart.

A naive king gets lost in the dark, slumberous forest. As night falls a hairy dwarf appears on the path ahead and offers to show him the way out for the price of his favorite daughter, whom he must deliver in eight days. The king readily agrees thinking the little fellow could be no great threat to him, despite his bristling beard. He will simply renege on his promise once out of danger.. The king emerges from the forest in a trice and immediately forgets the dwarf who is now way behind him and can surely do nothing even as … Continue reading Into the Forest.

Our much loved tale begins with a charming domestic scene in which the diligent tailor is going about his legitimate business in his fine work shop with a song in his heart and a trill upon his lips. Passing school boys think how grand it must be to be a tailor and wish they could become like him when they grow up. It seems too good to be true and sure enough the underlying situation is soon revealed. ‘Oh how Hungry I am to be sure ,’ cried out the little man eventually, ‘but I must finish his Lordship’s coat … Continue reading The Valiant Tailor.

I thought I was in for an easy evening. My son was away at a festival, the neighbors were on holiday, no-one else for several miles in any direction. It was dry and warm. I decided to go and tuck myself into a little copse of trees way in back of the property, light a fire, crack a cold one and enjoy the gloaming. As the fire began to crackle and blaze a figure emerged through the billowing smoke and into the copse tumbled the laird of the land. ‘Do you know what this place is?’ he demanded, careening straight … Continue reading On the Mound of the Dead.

Once upon a time there was a wealthy and sophisticated man, Mark the Rich, who prided himself on his possessions and personal refinement. One night he had a dream God himself was coming to dinner, so he jumped up and had his servants prepare a great feast. Others he posted at the doors to prevent the poor and hungry from getting any. The people heard about the feast and arrived to beg alms but were chased away. A bent old man was hurt in the starving, ragged press and collapsed to the floor. He was helped up by a kind … Continue reading The Trouble with Men…

The myth that there is any such thing as a negative feeling is responsible for way more than the petty tyrannies of political correctness. The corresponding puritanical injunction to ‘let go’ of the past disregards the question of whether or not it will let go of you and assumes leverage in the psyche it just doesn’t have. Such a monotheism of consciousness is bound to create alternative facts and to speak with forked tongue, clamoring at the now highly circumscribed and polished persona as if it were the holy grail itself, a form of madness touted as salvation. How does … Continue reading Of Snake Oil and Rockstars.

The Magic Hat is a story so ancient it’s roots can be traced to one of four proto-stories described by the Aaron/Thompson index of fairy tales as originating from a time older than the division of the Indo-European languages, which is why you find variants of it in both Europe and Asia. The story concerns a young simpleton who goes out fishing in bad weather and wrecks his boat. He crawls out of the lashing brine half drowned and staggers home to his wife. ‘Oh, I have lost the boat… It’s such a disaster..’ ‘No it’s not’, she says, ‘you … Continue reading The Magic Hat.

Once upon a time there was a King who looked just like a pig. His skin was rough and thick like a pig. He smelled like a pig, he grunted like a pig and he ate like a pig. When the time came for the Pig King to marry it wasn’t easy to find suitable brides. Eventually a mother of three girls came forward and suggested a match with her eldest. The king was ecstatic and when his bride arrived he leapt up and down and nuzzled her and got some really good swill on her expensive dress. She was … Continue reading The Pig King.

In ancient Lydia there lived an inspired weaver, Arachne, whose tapestries were so beautiful and lifelike that people came to see them from miles around. Arachne soon became as boastful as she was talented and let it be known she considered herself even more skilled than Athena herself. Athena got wind of this and showed up one day in the guise of an old woman. When Arachne repeated her claim Athena revealed herself and challenged the puffed up mortal to a contest. Athena’s tapestry was a marvel but Arachne’s work was more miraculous still. Her compromising depictions of Zeus and … Continue reading The Power of Gratitude.

The Gods, despite their weighty preoccupations, are not averse to a little domestic moonlighting….. Eris, the Goddess of Strife, also called Discordia, is particularly easy to persuade to the table. But what is it that catches her attention sufficiently for it to feel like an invitation to join the party? The clue is at the foot of the painting… Two small children are playing the grand game of saving-what-you-love-most-about-dinner on the side of the plate until last; so the final mouthful is the most delicious. Mother puts a stop to all this nonsense by confiscating the treasured morsels. So the … Continue reading Healing the Split.

I went to a posh white supremacist public school. Its main lesson was in power and how to abuse it. This began with your own abuse and debasement, ‘in order to build you up and create character’. The new boys had the great honor of being ‘fags’, tending the eighteen year old prefects, warming toilet seats on a winter’s morning, sucking dick as needed, hanging off the hook at the back of his door for an hour.. Of course, you could rat. But then your life would go from being a living hell to something far worse. There was a … Continue reading A Special Kind of Madness.

You have the right to remain silent… Isn’t it curious.. the first thing agents of law enforcement do upon your arrest is to remind you of the human tendency to blurt out a confession. It is as though, against all the combined forces of your better judgment, including the instinct for survival, you harbored a traitor hell bent on dobbing you in. And you do… Conscience. Having your Miranda rights read to you stems from the case of one Ernesto Miranda who confessed to kidnapping and rape charges while in custody. His lawyers sought to overturn his conviction after they … Continue reading Truth will Out.

‘Spornosexuality’, the cut and shut love child of Sport and Porno, is the latest fad in male beauty. It is Narcissism on steroids, but the bodies beautiful are strangely asexual; more metro than macho and absorbed with themselves rather than each other or the opposite sex. ‘‘Capitalism has transformed our bodies into accessories. By toning and perfuming and recording every ripple with Facebook selfies, they’ve converted their bodies into their own masturbatory aids.’, Tim Stanley. The Spornosexual icon is Adonis; gorgeous, hench and aloof. Different versions of the Greek myth, from Ovid to Shakespeare, agree that his relationship with Venus … Continue reading Adonis and the Spornosexual.

Part of the problem with the phenomena of hoarding, now deemed to affect one in five people, (the other four are collectors) is that we want to fix it before knowing what it is. Being righteousness about someone’s plastic Santa collection might seem like trying-to-help but it’s still like sinking in chocolate truffle, tasty and feeling good… but you’re not going anywhere. “How often do we leap ahead to final solutions without pausing to savor the undertones? We are a radically bottom-line society, eager to act and to end tension, and thus we lose opportunities to know ourselves for our … Continue reading Too Much Stuff.

Three brothers set out into the world to seek their fortune. The two older ones are arrogant and mean. They shame the youngest for not yet having a trade and try to make him stay home. The boy reasons to himself that there must be some luck in this venture, for where else is it to come from? So he tags along, ‘and went forth as though the whole world was his.’ Grimm’s In the neighboring country a Princess has announced she will marry any man who can answer her riddle. ‘I have two types of hair on my head, … Continue reading The Roots of Confidence.

In Africa, where I was raised, it can be a bit awkward bumping into folk you don’t know in the middle of the bush. Spirits frequent such lonely places and people can be affected by them, so you’d do well giving everyone a wide berth. Just in case. Who knows what medicine they might be concocting? Which is just quaint superstition, right? ‘Every civilized human being, whatever his conscious development, is still an archaic man at the deeper levels of his psyche.’ CG Jung There’s a lonely country lane I take between isolated villages in rural Devon where I now … Continue reading Gestures of Becoming.

One of the best ways of getting to sleep is to ask yourself a really profound question. The deeper the better. Dropping such a stone into the Well of Night is a torment to already reluctant Goblins who down tools in protest at all this pre-frontal cortex overtime which is a great help in nodding off. Turn your profundity over in your hand as if it were The Precious, next thing you know it’s morning and you need to pee. Last night’s was the charm. ‘What is the most significant thing anyone ever said to me?’ A few pretenders threw … Continue reading Beyond Conflict.

There is a strange story unfolding in the Sonoran desert, the hero of which is the Southern Grasshopper Mouse. Weighing in at under an ounce, it looks cute enough but is in fact, pound for pound, tougher than Wolverine… and needs to be.. because the favorite breakfast of Onychomys Torridus, the Desert Claw, is the most poisonous scorpion in North America. The Arizona Bark Scorpion hospitalizes thousands of people every year. It was responsible for 800 deaths in Mexico during a peak period in the eighties. You froth at the mouth, convulse and die. The scorpion’s Latin name gives more … Continue reading The Miraculous Mouse.

In darkest Herefordshire there is an old Victorian bridge over a small branch line of the county railway. On either side of the narrow track are rows of formidable spikes to deter you from leaping into the path of the 9.30 from Hay-on-Wye. But evidently someone had given it a go and caused enough mischief to warrant the spikes being carefully boxed up with wooden planks to make sure no further harm was caused. These, of course, were immediately clambered upon by grateful youth, endangering their innocent if foolish lives. The hazard was resolved by placing an even more scary … Continue reading From Eden to Overwork Death.

A young Prince and his trusty Servant set out to seek their fortune. At night they come to a hut in the woods. A young girl invites them in but warns them Grandma is a Witch so don’t, you know, touch anything. Grandma is very polite and tends the Prince with all kinds of goodies which he wisely refuses and so they make it through the night. At dawn, as the Prince rides off, the Witch comes hurrying out and grabs a hold of the Servant who is still adjusting his saddle, forcing into his hand a foaming vial of … Continue reading Toxins and Riddles.

An arrogant young man gets on a train and sits opposite a little old lady. He begins to regal the carriage with his opinions, takes up everyone’s personal space, endless showing off. He gets off at the next stop but as the doors close the old lady opens a window and shouts out, ‘you left something behind!”. By now he’s running next to the carriage with his arms out, perplexity written across his face. ‘what is it, what did I leave?” ” A very poor impression…” she retorts, just as he runs out of platform. There is really no such … Continue reading The Secret Masochist.

In a world increasingly characterized by communications technology it might seem counter intuitive to question the centrality of language to dialogue. They seem synonymous. But language is not necessarily the main factor or even a central factor in meaningful conversation. Whilst we are listening to the words we are paying even more attention to gesture, expression, tone, disposition. When a gap opens up between what people say and how they behave its uncomfortable because the words no longer feel real, which means you in turn are not quite real. What we think of as ‘respect’ largely has to do with … Continue reading Despair and the Wall of Cheese.

Whether or not suffering may be redeemed largely depends on how you think it’s supposed to happen. The traditional idea of a cure seems to have been bent out of shape. It carries connotations of illness and disease, plus the idea that it can be fixed, a notion only a step away from driving out demons. More liberal notions of healing still tend to conjure the idea that it is something that can be dispensed, the starched white coat or the ecclesiastical frock simply traded in for a mystical cape and just the right incantation. I feel your pain… All … Continue reading How we Heal.

Animism, the belief that Nature is sentient and that material things contains spirits, is mostly considered a quaint footnote of Anthropology by Church and Science alike. Something our foolish ancestors and merely primitive people believe in. Little might any inter galactic tourist imagine the extent to which such beliefs pervade modern life and among the very people who consider themselves to have evolved beyond such apparent nonsense. As a student I was invited not to return to lectures by a Great Professor whose scoffing at the Hunter-gather’s totemic world drew my attention to the Gucci suit he was wearing and … Continue reading The Spirit in Matter.

Sado-Masochism has much in common with the elusive, lesser spotted Venus Fly Trap Warbler. They both have fancy names and are so well camouflaged that even the ardent enthusiast rarely gets a peek. Danish philosopher and leading contender for the Worst-luck-in-love Competition, Soren Kierkegaard, who also had a fancy name, tells the following cautionary tale …. There was once a poor peasant who was so down on his luck he did not even have a pair of shoes to wear. One day, he miraculously came into some money.  He walked all the way into town and bought the finest pair … Continue reading The Sado-Masochistic Self.

When I was first in therapy I was telling my analyst about my father’s recent marriage to his third wife. He stopped me in mid sentence… ‘your father’s what?’ …marriage.. ‘you said ‘funeral’,….’ a slip of the tongue, the tail end of murderous rage I was quite unaware of until it found its own way into our conversation. ‘I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.’  F. O’Connor. The ‘talking cure’ is rooted in this intimate relationship between self-expression and consciousness. This is true even more so for the expression of feelings… which … Continue reading Deprivation and Deadly Sin

People are weird. We’re not just self destructive. We also party to the precipice. We amass more than we need but care more about how it’s packaged than the slice of time it’s supposed to save, as though time itself were ripe for consumption. And then…. having worked so hard to gather more nuts than you can eat, be persuaded to part with it all at the drop of a hat and marched into a hail of gunfire on the strength of some brocaded phantom you can be sure is elsewhere at the time.. So, though we might destroy ourselves … Continue reading Fear of Freedom.

I once had the dubious honor of being locked up in a third world jail for an irregularity in my passport. I was thrown into a stinking cell in absolute darkness. The stench could have stripped paint. Bodies shuffled in the acrid void. A match was lit and held up to my face, one of three brothers who then shared their single blanket and the newspaper sheets that served for a bed. As dawn broke I noticed another man sitting apart from us. He was curled into an upright fetal ball, sleeping on his feet to avoid the cold floor, … Continue reading The Curse of Creativity.

On the one hand addiction is a matter of chemical dependence. On the other it’s a need to feel the oceanic bliss of Mother flood long standing aridity just one more time… On the third hand, because these things are always complicated, its good business. The British East India Company managed to ship 2 million kilos of opium into China in 1833, making loads of cash and disabling their coastal cities, a ploy repeated in America with the proliferation of crack among African American neighborhoods in the nineties and latterly with the more recent Xanax and Opiate epidemics which effectively … Continue reading The Uninvited Guest.

Many years ago I was best man at a friend’s wedding. Thereafter things got difficult for the couple and my friend would come over and unburden himself whilst I filled up on all his indignation. Eventually, much calmer now, he’d leave while I paced and fumed at what I assumed were my own feelings. After a while he broke off our friendship on account of the ‘negative attitude’ I had towards his missus. Years later we met by chance. In a bid to repair things whilst naming what had happened we found a quiet spot to talk and I made … Continue reading The Poor and the Paranoid.

There is an old Jewish story about a poor man who complained to his Rabbi that his cottage was so cramped and small he could only take it as a sign of God’s judgement. The Rabbi pondered and then asked, ‘Do you own any animals?’ ‘Yes’, said the man, a cow, a goat and some chickens.” ”Take them into the house with you.” The Rabbi’s advice seemed strange but he did as he was told.  So the next time they met the Rabbi asked how things were going. ”Terrible,” he replied, ‘The cow’s tail is in everything, the goat stinks … Continue reading The Pursuit of Happiness.

Once there was a man who had seven sons though none of them pleased him entirely. His secret frustrated wish was for a daughter.  Eventually a girl was born and there was much celebration though she was so weak that she had to be baptised immediately for the fear she might not live until the priest could be fetched. The father sent one of the lads, he couldn’t recall which, to get water from the well. All the others followed and an argument broke out between them as to who would carry the jug such that it is accidentally broken. … Continue reading The Seven Ravens.

In ancient Greece, Orestes is driven mad by vengeful Furies, dark Goddesses hell bent on the application of Divine Law. He has been forced to kill his mother by Apollo, who insists that the murder of her husband Agamemnon, whom she stabbed in the bath for killing their daughter Iphigenia, be avenged. Yes, its complicated. Son kills mother, for killing father, for killing daughter…. you can see how this might end. Orestes fulfillment of Apollo’s law is punishable by death.. not very fair, but there’s no reasoning with Furies…. Eventually Athena intervenes, ruling that twelve judges, she amongst them, will … Continue reading Fury.

Trumpty Dumpty bet on his wall, Trumpty Dumpty had a great fall, All of his Base and all Putin’s men, Couldn’t put Trumpty together again! Did you ever wonder about the meaning of Humpty Dumpty? A mere cautionary tale for naughty children? I think not… The nursery rhyme has been associated with Richard 111’s defeat at Bosworth. And with the execution of Charles 1. But the best candidate for any historical origin has to be Charles the V1 of France whose love/hate relationship with his brother Louis resulted in strange behaviour for the normally outdoorsy king. After a number of … Continue reading Trumpty Dumpty.

What it means to listen to yourself is not all that obvious. Sometimes it means taking your vulnerability seriously, the needs of an alienated soul, the cry of an inner child. Sometimes it’s just the opposite, inner encouragement to seize the moment, to be bold or brazen. People say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness. Quite the opposite is true. Having an internal dialogue, being able to consider and reflect, to weigh an argument, to look at life from different points of view, all this is actually a sign of maturity. The first sign of madness … Continue reading Me and Not-me.

The King of Egypt lies dying. His daughter, the Princess Jasmina, is desperate to find a cure for her beloved father. She has swan suits made to fly across the Great Sea with her two step sisters to the faraway North, to the land of the Marsh King where a sacred healing flower grows… Once they arrive, Jasmina’s stepsisters betray her and steal back to Egypt with her swan suit leaving her to be swallowed up by the Marsh King, events carefully noted by the Marsh’s resident Stork, who has an innate sense of knowing right from wrong and decides … Continue reading The Marsh King.

What does it mean to be truly human? One answer is that a person’s humanity might be measured by their capacity to empathically connect with another. ”You can judge a society by how they treat their weakest.” Ghandi. There is no ‘I’ without a ‘thou’. For as long as the other is an ‘it’, then so are we. ‘Whatsoever you do unto the least of my brothers, you do unto me.’  Matt 25;40. So governmental ruling that animals don’t have feelings has an effect much wider and greater than the already sorry state of animal welfare. Downgrading the sentience of … Continue reading For the love of an old dog.

In 1928, Edmond Szekely, published a translation of a manuscript, ostensibly discovered in the Secret Archives of the Vatican, ‘The Essene Gospel of Peace.’ The Vatican says that Mr Sezeley has never been privileged with such intimate access to their Room of Wicked Books and detractors point to the fact that the original Aramaic manuscript has never been seen, so many dismiss Szekely as a fake. But… apocryphal texts have always had aspersions cast upon them. They are always illegitimate as far as the Establishment is concerned, yet somehow also sufficiently dangerous enough to it at the same time such … Continue reading The Essene Gospel of Peace.

There is a variant on the Cinderella story, one of hundreds, called, ‘Donkey Skin’, which has some details in it missing from the popular version, details that might help us appreciate why it’s so difficult to get to the Ball with even the wiliest Fairy God Mother.. Suppressed details are always the juicy bit of the story, like the reporter’s question to Putin at the Helsinki summit, ‘Did you want Trump to win and did you help him?,’ to which the reply was, ‘Yes I did, yes, I did,’ being artfully airbrushed from the White House transcript of that hallowed … Continue reading ‘Donkey Skin’, the Enstupiding.