(Jung, 1933/4)1
*
Newgrange, or Bru na Boinne as it is known in early Irish texts, translates as the mansion or abode by the Boyne, and was believed to be the home of Dagda, the sun god. It is a megalithic cairn,2 a vast, stone, chambered mound that is about 280 feet in diameter and 44 feet high; it is approximately 5,000 years old. It is situated in the Boyne valley, which has the largest number of megalithic tombs in Europe. One enters the cairn through a passageway, which leads to a central chamber with a stunning 19-foot-high corbelled ceiling. There are three recesses, each containing massive stone basins, one to the left, one to the right, and one at the back of the central chamber. Many of the stones that form the cairn are decorated, both along the passageway leading to the chamber and in the central chamber itself.
The mound is built in such a way that on the morning of the Winter Solstice (21 December), and for a few days before and after, a shaft of light from the rising sun penetrates an aperture above the lintel of the entrance. This roof box provides a link between the inside of the cairn and the outside world. As the cairn is built on a slope, sunlight shining through the entrance cannot reach all the way into the chamber. The size and position of the rectangular shape of the roof box allow the shaft of sunlight to inch its way slowly up the length of the passage over a period of 10 minutes, at which point it reaches the central chamber to illuminate the innermost space. For the rest of the year the interior of the cairn lies in darkness. We can only speculate as to the significance of such precise engineering. Baring and Cashford propose that â[t]he ritual enacted must have been one of the sun fertilizing the âbodyâ of the earth and so awakening her after her winter sleep to the renewed cycle of lifeâ (1993, p. 98).
The alignment of sunlight with the passageway leading to the womb-like inner chamber serves as a tangible testament to the belief system of the peoples who constructed the Newgrange cairn. Home to the all-powerful god Dagda, the cairn is the place where, it is said, he lay with the goddess Boinnâa manifestation of the river Boyneâand conceived their son Angus, whose name is translated as the real vigour (Jones, 2007, p. 202). Baring and Cashford suggest that the communal lives of the people of this time âmay have been aligned in some way with the cyclic drama taking place in the skyâ (1993, p. 97). Undoubtedly their religious beliefs must have inspired the sacred geometry of Bru na Boinne. Its construction suggests a deep sense of the spiritual significance of the cyclic drama of the seasons, celebrating the return of the sun at the darkest point of the year and promising the death of winter, as symbolized by the physical alignment of outer light and inner darkness, a marriage of sky and earth, solar masculine and chthonic feminine energies. On a practical level, the lengthening of the daylight hours as the sun moved into the Northern hemisphere meant the earth once again became warm, fecund, fertile, and ready for planting, ensuring the continuance of life in body, in matter.3
The Gnostics believed that in the process of creation, Sophia, the divine wisdom and feminine aspect of God, descended into earth, into matter. During the course of her descent âshe became lost and imprisoned in matter, thus becoming the hidden God which is in need of release and redemptionâ (Edinger, 1972, p. 102). At Newgrange, on the Winter Solstice, the sunâs rays penetrate matter and illuminate the darkness. I understand this image as a metaphor for the awakening of the feminine principle4 in matter. The earth awaits the sunâs penetration (the masculine principle), and the resultant conjoining or coniunctio of sun and earth, spirit and matter carries with it promise of regeneration. Marion Woodman, Jungian analyst, writes that âour whole world runs on the Inner Marriageâon that day-and-night principle where thereâs obviously a time of opening and receiving (the feminine), and where thereâs an alternate time of thrusting and permeating (the masculine). The two energies work together. They are complementaryâ (in conversation with Ryley, 1998, p. 76). The annual occurrence at Bru na Boinne serves well as a fundamental orienting image of psychological alignment, or the egoâs conscious alignment with the organizing principle of the psyche which Jung calls the Selfâthat is, alignment within and without, the conjunction or marriage of light and matter initiating regeneration and possibility. I will use it as such throughout the text.
Thousands of years after the construction of the site at Newgrange, the alchemists of the Medieval and Renaissance periods actively explored the relationship between matter and spirit, darkness and light. They âdiscover[ed] that in the very darkness of nature a light is hidden, a little spark without which the darkness would not be darknessâ (Jung, 1942, par. 197). The alchemists, in many ways the forerunners of modern scientists, understood the complementarity of light and dark, and the essential unity of all things. Paracelsus, for one, believed that:
(Jung, 1942, par. 198)
At Newgrange, the transformation and âunion of the naturesâ of which Paracelsus speaks is represented, for me, by the shaft of sunlight that penetrates the stone passageway into the inner chamber, symbolic of the transformative and generative powers of Nature. However, the roots of the alchemistsâ investigations were pagan, and the alchemical tradition of the Middle Ages in Europe ran counter to the mainstream tradition of Christianity which turned pagan deities into demons, separated light from dark, spirit from matter, soulâor psycheâfrom the body, and so, according to Jung, âalienated man from his own natureâ (ibid.). Like the alchemists of the Middle Ages, Jung argues that humankindâs âtrueâ nature is not only physical but psychic, in other words, it comprises both matter and spirit.
What occurs at Newgrange at the Winter Solstice serves well as a poignant metaphor for BodyDreaming work. The passageway at Newgrange is precisely oriented toward the sunrise in order that the sunâs rays pierce the darkness of the inner chamber spiral. In the practice of BodyDreaming, when the clientâs system is activated, the therapist invites her to orient outward, allowing the senses to be drawn wherever they want to go, allowing the eyes to settle on an object that draws her attention in a positive way.5 This engages the clientâs curiosity and has the effect not only of bringing her into the âhere and nowâ but also, as Hoskinson suggests, short-circuiting the habitual response to threat, the repetitive pattern of paying attention to danger; it has the calming effect of regulating the nervous system.6 For example, in BodyDreaming work the client often begins by simply speaking a dream. She may already be activatedâheart racing, anxious, with shortness of breath and clammy handsâas the act of speaking the dream may have made her apprehensive in anticipation of all that is as yet unknown about its content. The activation in the nervous system is short-circuited when she allows her eyes to focus on what attracts them. This calms the system and simultaneously engages both the Social Engagement System7 and the right hemisphere of the brain. As soon as a dream is spoken, left-hemisphere consciousness grabs hold of it, trying to control, analyze, categorize, and fix the dream images in time and space. If, however, we shift our attention and orient to the outside, we are, by that action, inviting the right hemisphereâs relational, curious nature to connect us to our surroundings. This change in orientation from inner to outer awareness is facilitated by the Social Engagement System which comprises the muscles of the face and head, i.e., the eyes, ears, jaw, throat and neck, and has a direct calming impact on the heart rate, pulse rate and breathing, enabling us to recalibrate the nervous system to a state of homeostasis.8 No longer activated, we are more receptive and better able to open to whatever new thing is presented in the dream as well as to any associated feelings in the body.
By orienting to our surroundings we begin to experience a participatory relationship with the world psyche or soul. Exploration of the relationship between inner sensation and outer experience grounds us simultaneously in the here and now of the body and in the material world around us. David Abram, influenced by the philosophy of French phenomenologist Merleau-Ponty, speaks to the connection he makes with a partic...