I’ve been thinking about the ideas of genius and courage. What is the unique signature of my existence, that one thing that can come into real contact with the world? Often this uniqueness is experienced symptomatically–problems, anxiety, depression, and neurotic behaviors, but a deeper wisdom suggests its nature does not take up residence there. Instead, these experiences could be seen as one’s genius living through such watermarks, and peculiarities. I am curious to know this face that walks into the world that others may have glimpsed and I have spent far too much of my precious life attempting to cover up or retrain. I am reminded of Brene Brown’s initial TED Talk, sharing her realization that courage properly understood meant telling the story of one’s whole heart. It is quite a proposition to imagine living courageously, engaging one’s genius. Psychologist and author, James Hillman elaborated extensively on the idea of genius in his work “The Soul’s Code.” The Greeks referred to the signature force guiding one’s personality as a daimon. And, later the Romans used the word genius. Aligning with centuries of Western thought Hillman observed genius as separate from nature and nurture, an elusive but enduring third factor of individual distinction. The idea of genius hinges on the powerful consequence of reckoning with this simple but potent realization. Judgement suspended, a moment of irrevocable truth presents itself. Life is the opportunity and task of becoming and inhabiting the uniqueness of me, and to the extent that I engage this reality, this genius and respond to its desires /demands I can know meaningful existence.
Unfortunately, there are many hindrances to the natural unfolding of one’s genius. Trauma is certainly one of those hindrances. Trauma teaches something entirely different. As with all evil it mixes powerful truth with intimate deceptions. The result is the experience of shame. Shame confirms that indeed there is something unique, mysterious at our core but it is not worthy of contact with the world; one’s genius is to be hidden and eventually abandoned. The shame resulting from traumatic experience can keep the genius of an individual barely out of utero. And, as one carries on through life the shame of having a perceived weak part of ourselves gets confirmed. The seemingly inadequate part, having been neglected and protected from exposure to the world–its devastation and the others in it, is incapable of actively participating and retreats further from making any efforts to incarnate–become a living thing in the world. Additionally, one’s genius, instead of being celebrated and nurtured is pushed out of awareness/consciousness and takes on incredible, unspeakable burdens. Eventually something breaks or splits in the psyche and the results are often terrifying and surprising behaviors within ourselves and others. One’s genius becomes a psychic liability–diabolical, dismembering, disassociating instead of a guiding asset–empowering, animating and connective. Genius is the ancient and primordial song of our being, calling to us from the beginning of our lives. For me it seems essential to learn this song of one’s inheritance because it is only in its rhythm and rhyme that we begin a life of meaning. Walking daily into the world with a sensibility of who one is in relation to the world changes the dynamic of life. Perhaps this is what the Delphic Oracle urged one to do: “Know Thyself.” And, in acting courageously a clarity emerges for the individual. We become capable of discerning, pivoting, and leveraging the energies of life. Unfortunately, such clarity seems out of reach when we are in the throes of traumatic experience.
Trauma often presents itself in the bones and muscles of our bodies and the flurry of thoughts, feelings and emotions passing through us. The concepts of genius and courage although insightful can leave one feeling no closer to actually experiencing wholeness. And getting closer to a truth/answer usually means the experience gets harder or more intense. Internal Family System’s (IFS) application of psychic multiplicity seems very relevant here. Some of its core ideas have become recently popularized in Pixar’s Inside Out. The theory and movie suggest that we experience ourselves as parts, each part with its own autonomy and claims on the world. When unacknowledged these parts can become polarized or aligned much like the dynamics of a family system. Embracing Carl Jung’s observations of the psyche, IFS recognized that in addition to these functional parts of the individual a deeper Self is present–although often subtle and hidden. This deeper Self, capable of curiosity, compassion and clarity can engage, appropriate and honor all of the different parts that compose psychic or inside life. Paradoxically, embracing multiplicity (our different selves) renders an underlying capacity for wholeness. IFS uses the metaphor of a choir (parts) conducted by a director (Self). From this perspective no one part is in control, but rather each part finds its place in the unifying verse or universe of life experience. And, instead of being rejected or stifled, previously unconscious and exiled parts of one’s self may reemerge, creating the opportunity to know one’s genius.
Approaching inner life in this way asks for courage and rather than simply identifying one’s self as courageous or not–a kind of either/or, black and white thinking–the moment of choice is always present. And, perhaps genius is just that, the potential mediator of influences that both honors and tempers the rages and ecstasies of the psyche. Genius is the vessel capable of containing and engaging the presence and place of life lived. Genius is your version of the Self. So, another question might be how do I recognize my genius? I know in my experience that when I sense I am inhabiting the fullness of my being I feel well nourished. Life is present and I don’t have to go chasing it down, it resides within me emanating out into the day before me. And the suffering I encounter is transformed into something different, something I am not alone with but share with the soul of the world. Suffering becomes tears I was not expecting, the stab of an unexpected hurt, or even the pouncing of a hidden joy. I am grateful for these experiences because with them life takes on more substance. Objects become others, painfully present others whose claim on my existence I cannot deny. I submit to the limitations of my own experience and begin to glimpse beyond the horizon of my own making. This is the inherent vulnerability of courage. Once my genius is embraced then the genius of others becomes real as well. And, inevitably my story becomes entangled in theirs; I become part of a large story the story of humanity. And, instead of diminishing my value I feel unashamed, simultaneously grounded in the soul of the world and lifted up into the mythic Golden Bough of existence.
