It was a joy to interview Dennis Slattery for the Jung Society of Utah blog, where this post originally appeared.
While much is said about the soul's wisdom and capacity for creativity, it is important to remember that "archetypes always have a shadow," Dennis Slattery said. As a teacher and a mythologist, he's seen how vital it is to be aware that the soul also has the capacity for foolishness and destruction–that "the soul in its creative capacities can wreak untold horrors" through violence, war, and addiction. "Creativity is not always for the good," he said.
However, once we are aware that this shadow side exists, we may begin to learn from it and develop greater awareness. A way of going about this creatively is to explore one's own personal myth, which is something Slattery has helped countless people with during his 40 years as a teacher. Through the study of mythology and through writing about our own stories, he's found that the creative process teaches us a great deal about cultivating presence and consciousness.
Join the Jung Society of Utah on Friday, November 16th for a special lecture by Dennis Slattery!
Sharing our stories with one another cultivates connection and makes us more humane.
Don't miss this enlightening evening with Dennis Slattery!
I wrote this post for the Jung Society of Utah blog, based on a longer piece I authored here.
Similarly, traveling has allowed me to meet a variety of fascinating people from diverse cultures and backgrounds. In conversation with each of these strangers, some of whom became my friends, I've enjoyed listening to and learning from their unique perspectives. I've also discovered shared interests, dreams, and goals, or common values. This has highlighted to me that we're all very much the same at a fundamental level. All of the friends I've made in my travels have helped me become a more authentic version of myself in some way.
My dad has always existed for me in the space between "here" and "gone." He was always around, but only rarely has he been truly present in my life. In recent months this has been literalized as his health has taken a turn for the worst. He's now in a nursing care facility, spending his most of his days apparently drifting in and out, only occasionally conscious or coherent, no longer who he was.
I don't know what my dad wanted to do with his psychology degree, but it occurred to me recently that he could have been an effective therapist. Seven years ago I was on a flight from Cairo to New York City that hit very bad weather. After circling the JFK airport for a tense and miserable hour, the flight was diverted to Dulles. In the midst of a panic attack (though I didn't realize it at the time), I called my parents' house and my dad answered. He listened to my story about the hellish flight, being trapped on the plane at Dulles for two hours before being allowed to leave and go through customs, and my fear of having to spend the night alone in the airport. He then told me to breathe, assured me that the airline was required by law to find me a flight back to Salt Lake City, and addressed my other concerns enough that I could function and get through the night. To this day, I'm still grateful for that.
While I don't qualify as middle-aged quite yet, my dad is 66, still relatively young in a time and place where people can live to their 90s and beyond. I wonder now what he could still do if circumstances were different. What might he have done earlier in life that would have brought him more joy and meaning? And through my career change, am I indeed taking on my dad's unlived potential? Does it truly matter?