The most common version of the Grail myth takes place in a medieval kingdom. The King is tragically wounded, and the kingdom is in disrepair. Father Richard describes the situation:
Most versions of the Grail legend begin with a wasteland kingdom, ruled over by one called the Fisher King. Crops are dying, monasteries are empty, and the people have no hope. All the king can do, because his wound refuses to heal, is fish all day—that is why he is called the Fisher King. This name has Christ connotations, since Jesus too was the “fisher of people.”
Fishing is the appropriate symbol of dipping down into one’s own unconscious. The sea is the natural image of the vast unconscious. I think this is the reason we can sit by the ocean for hours and watch it with fascination—waiting for the gift from the sea, waiting for something to show itself.
For author and depth psychologist Carol Pearson, the Fisher King is an archetype connected to inner places of suffering and longing:
When I became aware that there was a hold on my thinking, I was given the freedom to change. Without awareness, I was lost in an endless cycle of disillusionment, hurt, and discouragement. Awareness brings clarity and our natural desire to better ourselves. Be a chick and break out of your shell, knowing that with hatching there is a struggle. Whether an egg, a flower, butterfly, or newborn, all struggle. Without the struggle, they cannot be born, survive, or seek their full potential. Even after birth, there is a need to stretch and grow built into all living things. Whether it is physical strengthening, mental cleansing, learning something new, or spiritual freedom and growth. Applying knowledge, based on a new truth or a behavioral change, brings it a struggle. Counter to this, when lost, we feel the struggle and brace ourselves, attempting to block out the fearful unknown and resist discomfort. By accepting that there will be a struggle and it is in the natural course of life, the struggle then becomes tolerable. When we accept the struggle, change unfolds in us and through us.
There is no autonomy or self-governing; control is exerted over the other’s movements, money, sexual activity, or friends; through emotional, psychological manipulation, or physical abuse. Adult children of alcoholics easily fall into the same patterns as their parents: picking a partner or raising their children, in the same manner, they were, remaining trapped in the cycle.
Life itself will offer moments of clarity.A crossroad, a breaking point, or outside intervention. A realization that something could be different. That one may enter a recovery program, peer support at a church, or counseling center. To break free and recover, emotional detachment is vital, while new information is taken in. There is always an emotional separation from the other co-dependant, if there is physical or psychological abuse a physical separation is needed until both can seek help.These are forms of detachment. Detachment simply allows space to breath, rest, and reevaluate. For most it is frightening and progress may be delayed out of a fear that something is being lost.
For survivors of trauma and addiction, roadblocks were put in place before we realized it. We remain unaware that a roadblock exists, believing we are just like everyone else, until we try to expand ourselves into an adult individual. If we have successes great! But such is life, and there are challenges all along our way. There is illness, loss, death, lost jobs, financial uncertainties, or isolation from families.
A year later, while in a counseling session, attempting once again to make sense of my predicament, I become terrified and disoriented. Directly in my line of vision, a form like a hologram appeared leaving no room for my present life to penetrate. I began seeing the atrocities done to my mother and my brothers. The smell of orange blossoms, bacon, country gravy and biscuits, the moist smell of dew in the mountain air filled my senses. Mashed potatoes mingled with blood on old graying wall paper came into view. I heard my own fear in its’ deafening silence as brown trousers came towards me. Physically, I was left feeling moist, cold and exposed; breathless with unbelievable pain in my throat and shoulders.
Living on a Missouri farm in a township that should be named ’Middle of Nowhere’, days go on endlessly for a child. There are daily chores and school activities with each day running into the next. Some days are more memorable if a windstorm comes through and we must scramble to bed all the animals. Even the long snow day that begins near Thanksgiving and ends in February, if we are lucky, becomes mundane. How many days of sledding and cocoa can a child actually enjoy?
A mile south of town center in a sleepy town in southern Ohio, the road passes the county fairgrounds then dips forty feet or so into a valley of rich farmland. Face on, the house resembled a child’s face, two large second-story windows with metal awnings for eyelids and the front door centered for a surprised look. The porch is simple wood planks a nearly flat roof with four unturned wooden posts.
Enduring abuse since infancy I was tormented with nightmares and symptomatic PTSD. However further insight exposed spiritual bondage that attached to my soul before I was aware, with the ability to influence my thoughts and behaviors. A spiritual malady went undetected for years and had not been addressed in my program of recovery and not understood in my church. When father died memories surfaced. Counseling; led me to think it was dealt with. However, when mother died strange things began to happen in my home, to me and my family. So blatant were the attacks I no longer had the luxury to stay in denial, under the label of dysfunction. The battle between good and evil is real.
Coming out on the other side, I am living fully and contentedly with gratitude for God’s care and protection. To honor the little girl that I blamed for so long and her brothers; Lady Jayne will now tell her story. While she speaks I will prepare the manuscript for publishing. So far I am thinking of the titles: The Fearless Reckoning of Lady Jayne or The Reckoning of Lady Jayne. Like these? I welcome input! My best to all who visit, Thank you!