Wednesday, April 14, 2010

imago

Mortal wounds, once sustained but never healed, are like bound feet.
One does not notice how much they hurt until someone takes the bindings off,
and then the pain is great.
And sometimes we make the mistake of running from the person
who removes the bindings rather than from the one who put them on.

-merle shain, hearts that we broke long ago

i've been reading a couple books about the concept of 'imago' and it seems like a cruel joke being played on us by god. the idea is that we seek partners who manifest characteristics, good and bad, of our primary caregivers as children. these partners not only match a set of subconscious criteria that we seek to nurture us, but also match in the ways they can trigger our childhood wounds.

so why would we seek this out? why would we want a partner, an "imago match" per this framework, that has the unique capacity to open our most painful memories and trigger the same emotional responses? well, this is the cruel part. not only can they bring the most raw and gory emotions to the surface, they also match in all the good ways. and 'good' is an understatement; because it's the most powerful connection ever. so where we can have the best emotional connection ever, we can also be hurt the most.

the highest highs, the lowest lows. i guess that's what vulnerability means.

the theory goes that because of the imago's ability to reopen those dark scars, they also have the ability to heal them.

but the opening is so painful. it is.
which is why i call it a cruel joke.

i just learned the word 'imago' yet some of the concepts were familiar to me. my mom gave me shain's book hearts that we broke long ago a long time back, and i copied many passages from my reading into my journal. her book from 1983 preceded the imago theory, at least as described by harville hendrix (the original author of the concept) by at least five years, but some of her ideas are very similar.

bound feet.. mortal wounds.. perhaps the psychological version of shooting the messenger.

my mom only taught me three prayers in my lifetime. two as children and one as a teen. now i lay me down to sleep, the lord's prayer, and the serenity prayer. in that order. i'm a spiritual person, but not necessarily one who prays in the typical fashion. in fact, i almost typed 'two prayers', omitting the lord's from the list. (it's been that long since it's come to mind, i suppose.)

but the serenity prayer, i love.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

i repeat it over and over like a chant when my feet are unbound. i find serenity is immediate, courage slower, and i'm still waiting for wisdom.

tonight i am praying.

d: for serenity
b: courageous
g: wisdom passed down from my mother

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