Our memories have layers. There are memories we can recall at any moment, those we have to hunt for, those that sneak up or overwhelm us, and those buried so deep we may never remember them at all. Jung talks about these differences in terms of what’s conscious versus unconscious, the division between what can be known and what will forever remain unknown.
The last year has been particularly intense in my personal universe, requiring the excavation of some deeper memories that have invariably lead to a very uncomfortable kind of remembering. And maybe it is because I am so tired of all these memories and their implications that just before dawn, outside on the deck with a cup of tea, a different kind of remembering almost knocked me off my feet.
This kind of remembering the body holds without logic, reasoning, or agonizing detail. It’s a natural and easy remembering of the mystery the deeper layers of life holds. These are memories that are held tight in our cells, comprised of the secrets stardust holds, locked so deep inside our DNA we often miss them altogether. We may be a finite manifestation but what we are made of is ancient and it carries with it all the memories since the beginning of time. Timelessness and infinity are alive in every breath we take if we’ll only notice.
The night before the oldest way of remembering came to visit I had come across the chapter in Jung’s Red Book where he meets the magician. In it he talks about the process of learning magic, which ends up being no learning at all, rather it’s an unlearning. It’s letting go of linear and rational thinking and finding ourselves in the center of ancient knowing. Although it sounds simple it can end up being amazingly difficult at times. It’s the same for us. This different way of remembering is a kind of magic and the mysterious and hidden key to it, the kind that seems foreign and inscrutable, is just the ability to get out of our own way. This kind of remembering also has the power to set us free because it allows us to be exactly who we’ve always been at our core out there in our day-to-day world.
That’s the kind of remembering that happened this morning under the crescent moon. But the truth is this deeper remembering is always with us and can be our constant companion if we’ll let it. It can be a beacon of light when we’ve lost our way. Sometimes the greatest thinking is no thinking at all. We let go of intellectual understanding and rationalization and align with the bones of our intuition that’s known the truth all along. This remembering is all about being. Being calm, quiet, and open.
It is the opposite of taking a class and copious notes or over-analyzing. It has everything to do with trusting our voice and freely speaking what we find there. Here we simply open up to the truth waiting for us on the inside and then follow it out into the world. This is how we remember the skies and the stars, the earth and the animals, and that they are our brothers and sisters.
We are all made of the same stuff and reminding ourselves of this helps us find our place in the bigger picture. This un-remembering sort of remembering is a state of simplicity, and it offers us what we’ve been missing, the deep connection with all of life that has always existed. When we let go of control, reasoning, and manipulation we land right in the middle of everything we’ve been searching for.
This kind of remembering brings us home to our soul.
kb
