One of the symptoms of depression is the loss of interest in things that previously felt attractive to us – such as meeting friends or engaging in various forms of entertainment. The same also characterizes the process of spiritual transformation, of which depression is an inevitable part (see the article Nigredo).
Self-knowledge is a deeply introverted process. That is why, at such times, our primary desire becomes to be alone with ourselves, in the company of feelings of loneliness, sadness, and melancholy. From the perspective of the average person, this withdrawal from the world may appear unhealthy. Around us there will always be “well-meaning” people who advise us not to give in to such a mood – to do something in order to distract ourselves.
Distraction, of course, has its place in processes of coping with stress and pain. In this particular case, however, it is not appropriate. The appropriate response is exactly the opposite: to turn toward everything we are avoiding and want nothing to do with. The time has come for inner integration, and this inevitably means encountering everything we reject. If we do not understand this, we will force ourselves to continue doing the things we used to do, even though they no longer bring us pleasure. But since we have violated our inner nature and failed to respect its natural cycles, we end up feeling even worse than before.
That is why it is very important for people who are going through this process to be informed about the meaning and purpose of what they are experiencing. Such knowledge would lift the burden of neurotic suffering and offer orientation for dealing with inevitable suffering.
And the meaning of what they are going through is that the time has come to turn one’s gaze inward, because that is where our soul is. The time has come to awaken from the trance of the senses and of things in the outer world, or, as Jung beautifully put it,
“He who looks outward, dreams; he who looks inward, awakens.”
Like winter, this time enters our lives with the relentlessness of a law of nature, against which we can do nothing. Even if we continue to walk in thin clothes and sandals, that does not change the fact that snow has begun to fall outside. The greater the changes we are going through, the harsher and longer the winter. The longer we remain alone with ourselves and communicate only with books.
And the awakening of the longing for knowledge of our imperishable essence is the greatest possible change. We call it “transformation,” because once the winter is over, we will no longer be the same. This is an extremely painful and difficult process, because ties are torn with things in our lives to which we are deeply attached. The leaves of the tree of the Self that bears our name continue to fall relentlessly. Throwing tantrums does not help; it only worsens the condition.
That is why it is so important to respect the hidden reason behind the inner process of withdrawing from the world. This does not mean that we stop going to work or caring for our families. All of this continues, but it takes place against the background of inner estrangement and a lack of desire for communication. One part of us is in the world, and another part is outside of it. It is as if some invisible glass wall separates us from the outer, concrete, and transient, and the feeling of detachment can at times be intensely frightening.
To make this clearer, I will use a metaphor. Imagine the life of a monk in a monastery. Although he lives in a community with his brothers in robes, communication with them is not the priority in the monastery. The priority is spiritual practice – prayer, fasting, religious books, silence, contemplation, and meditation in the monastic cell. All attention is directed inward, toward communion with oneself.
Now imagine a contemporary person who goes to work in a large business center. He is surrounded by hundreds of people while commuting to work, as well as in the office where he works. Seen from the outside, everything about him looks like everyone else. Seen from the inside, he is different – he is in winter.
Finally, imagine bringing the two images together into one: you see this person dressed in monastic robes, devoted to solitude and to renunciation of worldly entertainments and earthly pleasures, yet instead of going to a monastery, he goes to a business building, works on a computer, and carries out his everyday duties.
If what I am writing is not unfamiliar to you, you may be able to look at what is happening in your life from a slightly different angle. The spiritual awakening of the modern person does not require us to become hermits in the mountains, but exactly the opposite – to unite these two aspects of our life by turning our everyday tasks into a source of self-knowledge, wakefulness, and presence. The only thing we need is to give ourselves permission to pass through this period without resistance – for as long as the soul needs in order to await spring.
Kameliya Hadzhiyska
