The Vikings Are Coming!

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Ever since the first people sat around their campfires, we have told stories. People tell tales to explain events and to justify their actions. We see how one thing led to another, and wonder what might happen next. We learn about how we should behave in a similar situation. We use stories to understand the world.

Myths are some of the best stories ever told. They have stood the test of time, surviving to be re-told generation after generation. Tales of heroes and clever girls, treasure and monsters capture our imagination. Our modern world doesn’t contain many dragons, but metaphorical monsters still exist. Whether you’re fighting the establishment, coping with colleagues or dealing with depression, stories show you a way to go on. Myths and fairytales tell us to be brave and teach us to tackle life’s problems. Whether you’re a princess or an urchin, a lot of courage and a measure of good sense will see you through.

The mythology of the Norsemen tells us about their world. The Gods were always fighting the Ice Giants, just as men battle with the forces of nature. The tales of the Vikings embody their values. The Gods of Asgard were a close-knit group, mirroring the strong family ties of Northern society.  They were brave, generous and loyal to their friends – but always on guard against threats and treachery.

Thor was the most popular figure in the Norse pantheon. A big man with a bushy red beard, he was slow of thought but quick to action. Thor’s hammer Mjollnir was his greatest weapon in the battles with the Ice Giants. Forged by the dwarves, it never missed its mark; guided by magic, it always flew back to his hand. His brother Loki, the Trickster, was a very different character. Clever and devious, Loki’s schemes often saved the day.

‘Vikings: Life and Legend’ is at the British Museum from 6^th March – 22 June 2014. To coincide with this exhibition, I’m running two 1-day courses on Norse myth at the City Lit in London.

More about myth in ‘LifeWorks‘ by Jane Bailey Bain. Visit my Author Page and follow me on Twitter @janebaileybain. See the full version of this post with pictures on the 'Lifeworks' website.

The Power of Story

For full version of this post with pictures, go to the main LifeWorks website. 

Tell me your story. Let’s start at the very beginning. Where in the world were you born? What name did your parents give you? Do you have brothers and sisters? Where did you go to school? In other words, Who are you??

There are seven billion people on this planet, but your story is unique. Everything about you – your loves and your hates, your gifts and your challenges, your disappointments and your successes – is part of your personal narrative. All your experiences have made you who you are today. They are a line of footprints leading to exactly where you are now.

Life is a tapestry woven from many threads. Everyone you meet is a part of this pattern. Each of them has their own story that made them who they are today: the schoolboy on the #33 bus, the woman in the corner shop, the funny guy at the party, the old man on the park bench: they all have their own private hopes and dreams, their fears and regrets, their longings and secret sadnessses. When you see them in the street, wonder about the series of events which brought them to cross your path. Think about who they really are, behind that public mask. Ask yourself what lessons you could learn from them.

When you tell me your story, you are telling me about yourself. You decide what is important: the people, places and events that are significant in your life. Naturally, you edit the narrative to suit your image. Some incidents make you look clever, funny or brave; others don’t reflect your real self. You tell stories to make sense of your life, linking one thing to another in a causal sequence of events. Be careful, because stories can create reality. Tell someone about what you’ve achieved, and watch your reflection in their eyes. Moan about how hard things have been, and those obstacles will cast ongoing shadows in your path.

Your friends and family and colleagues each have their own story. Ask them about it: you might be surprised how little you know. When you listen to someone else’s story, you learn about things outside your own personal experience. If you find things in common, you feel closer to that other person. If their experiences are very different, you can empathize with them. Stories can teach you about how the world works, about how people think and feel, about what to expect from life. When friends share stories, you help each other to learn and grow.

So start asking people questions. Be genuinely interested in their answers. When you talk to someone, give them your full attention. So often, people get stuck on superficialities: What do you do? Where do you live? These markers help to place someone, but they don’t really tell you about the person you’re talking to. Everyone has something to share which could enrich your life. Try some more significant questions. When do you feel really happy? What’s your favourite saying? Why did you come to this place? Who are the most important people in your life? What’s on your bucket list? What’s your story?

That’s one thing you could ask everyone you meet: Tell me your story....

Archetypal Figures

Are you a clever girl or a wise woman? A hero or a trickster? There’s more to you than meets the eye, but you have a certain personality. And this persona tends to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Your self-image affects how you feel. Your feelings influence the way you act. And your actions ensure that you get the experiences you expect. In other words, your character affects what happens in your life story.

All the world’s a stage and you act a central character. You choose your part and find people to play with you. At the same time, your image determines what role you play in their story. You relate to people whose life scripts fit with yours. All our stories draw on a common set of characters. The same figures recur in tales from different times and places: the princess, the good mother, the wise man and so on. We recognize such roles easily when we encounter them. The psychologist Carl Jung called these universally recurring figures ‘archetypes’.

Archetypes are outline forms which appear in the human psyche. They consist of clusters of stereotypical attributes. We fill in their features on the basis of personal experience. Your image of a ‘good mother’ draws on your own encounters with mothering. You fear the witch because of folktales you once heard. These figures are familiar and reassuringly predictable. They help us to make sense of the world.

When you interact with other people, you are usually playing one of these archetypal roles. You pick a part and act it out with your own personal interpretation. This character is your public image. It determines how other people see you, and how you see yourself. You have relationships with people who will act complementary roles. The hero needs a princess to rescue; the good mother wants a hungry urchin to feed.
The character you choose is influenced by the people around you. Social and economic factors limit the parts you can play: Beauty may be financially dependent on her Beast. But ultimately the only limiting factor is your imagination. When you change, so do your relationships with other people. Beauty can get a job and take control of her own life.

 The writing’s on the wall but who composed it? You did: but usually you’ve used automatic writing. Most of us drift through life without realizing what’s going on. We accept the hand that fate has dealt us, without ever trying to change our cards. We fall into friendships out of convenience rather than choice. We stay in jobs that don’t really inspire us because we can’t see any alternative. Our lovers may take us for granted, or even abuse us: we act as if there’s nothing we can do about it.

Actually you have more control over your story than you think. You can broadly choose what happens in your life. Will you go to college or get a job? Do you want to stay single or get married? You may have to modify the details but you decide what you want to do. If you don’t make conscious choices, you’re actually deciding by default. What matters is to become aware of this process.

The greatest story ever told is happening right now, all around you. Your personal role is unique, but we’re all on the same great journey. Your life script interlocks with the stories of everyone you know. You choose the part you want to play, and you decide what to do. Once you are aware of this, you can start to take control of your life. Now there’s an empowering thought. Your story so far tells who you were: what happens next is up to you!


This post is based on an article in Watkins Magazine Issue 33 Spring 2013.
**For the full illustrated version of this post, visit the main LifeWorks website. **
‘LifeWorks‘ shows how you use archetypal figures in your life story. Visit my Author Page and follow me on Twitter @janebaileybain. If you like this post, leave a comment and use the buttons below to Share on Twitter, Facebook and Stumbleupon.

Labyrinths

Labyrinths are often seen as a metaphor for confusion. Theseus chases the Minotaur through a labyrinth; Jung talks of the labyrinth of the unconscious mind. Actually these are examples of mazes, not labyrinths. A maze is a web of tracks designed to confuse and disorient:  false turns and dead ends conspire to get you hopelessly lost. In a labyrinth, your path may twist and turn, but there is only one route.  If you follow the way, you will inevitably come to the centre. Labyrinths are a symbol of the soul’s journey: keep going, and you will find your true destination.

Labyrinths have been marked and walked since ancient times. They feature in spiritual traditions from around the world as a method of obtaining enlightenment. Usually they are in the form of two-dimensional patterns marked on the ground. They may be spiral, symmetrical or random meanderings. Early Christian churches feature labyrinthine patterns as a representation of human life, with the centre symbolizing salvation. In medieval Christianity, walking the labyrinth was a form of symbolic pilgrimage: religious processions were conducted on the patterned floors of great cathedrals such as Amiens and Chartres. Nowadays ‘labyrinth workshops’ in both Christian and New Age traditions hark back to this ancient source of spiritual insight.

London Underground are installing a labyrinth in every station to commemorate their 150^th year. The series of 270 black-and-white enamel plaques has been designed by Turner-winning artist Mark Wallinger. Each one is unique but they are all circular, and have a single starting point. The first ones were put up today and by summer 2013 they will all be in place. The designs will be numbered for the station to which they are assigned: this is their position in the ‘Tube Challenge’ – the route by which you can visit every station in the shortest possible time. Well, we each have our own spiritual journey....

 

Plough Monday

Posted on January 7, 2013 by Jane Bailey Bain ('LifeWorks')

Plough Monday traditionally marked the end of the midwinter festivities. The Twelve Days of Christmas were over: on the Monday after Epiphany, it was time to return to work. But in medieval England, it was an excuse for agricultural labourers to make money at a hard time of year. Ploughmen were meant to report early for duty at the start of the new planting season. Instead they would drag a decorated plough around the village, shouting “Penny for the Plough!” They were often accompanied by a boy acting the Fool, who wore animal skins and carried a pig’s bladder on a stick; and a man dressed as an old woman, known as the Bessy. This echoes the characters typically found in modern pantomimes. Participants dressed in motley costumes and blackened their faces with soot. This disguise protected them from repercussions when they ploughed up the front garden of any householder who declined to contribute. In Cambridgeshire and Norfolk, the ploughboys performed ‘molly dances’; in the East Midlands they put on mummer’s plays. Their first takings went towards a ‘plough light’, a candle in the local church; the rest were spent on ale. Revellers feasted on ‘Plough Pudding’, a boiled suet pudding containing meat and onions. The Plough Monday customs declined in the 19^th century but have been revived in the 20^th, though they are now usually held on a Saturday – ensuring that participants can report for work on time!
Plough Monday is a good time to ‘put your hand to the plough’ and start a new project. Good luck with those New Year Resolutions!

Christmas: Seasonal Traditions

***For full illustrated version of this article, visit Christmas Customs at www.janebaileybain.com***

Have you written your Christmas cards? Stocked up on mince pies? Put up the tree? On these cold winter days, we need a festival to feel good about life. Our midwinter customs go back a long way....

Christmas really began in the fourth century, when Christianity became the official religion of Rome. Celebrations for Jesus’ birthday were moved to the midwinter solstice, conveniently coinciding with the ancient festival of Saturnalia. People were already decorating their houses with evergreens, feasting and exchanging small gifts. Now they could carry on carousing in a suitably Christian spirit.

It wasn’t just the Romans who celebrated the turning of the year. Many of our traditions have Norse or Teutonic origins. Viking children got midwinter presents from Father Odin, riding on his eight-legged horse. The English word Yule comes from the Scandinavian ‘wheel’ (hjul). Cart wheels and spinning-wheels were ceremonially bound to prevent their use. The Yule log was hauled in from the woods on the solstice – around Christmas Eve - and kept burning for the next twelve days. This is the sacred time set aside for celebrations, and marks the period between Christ’s birth and the arrival of the Three Kings (Epiphany).

Advent literally means ‘coming’ (ad-venire). Christians decorate their houses to welcome the holy child. Pine branches symbolize his promise of eternal life. The fir tree with gifts was introduced to Britain by Prince Albert after he married Queen Victoria in 1840. Wreaths on the door are another Germanic custom, circles symbolizing eternity.

Holly was used by the Saxons in their sun-return festivals. It is named the ‘holy-tree’ because berries like blood-drops appear about this time.Ivy is another evergreen, originally dedicated to the Roman god Bacchus (Greek Dionysius): the French word ivre means ‘drunk’! To Christians, its twining tendrils are a symbol of everlasting love.

Mistletoe was known to the Celts as ‘all-healer’: a sprig brings good luck, not to mention an excuse for  kissing. It was venerated by the druids, who believed it was seeded by lightning: these pagan associations exclude it from church decorations. 

Candles on Christmas Eve guide the Holy Family towards shelter. They recall Hanukkah, the Jewish festival of lights, which is celebrated around this time of year. Midnight chimes were once a protective noise to drive away bad spirits. Carols (Latin choraula, a flute-player) were originally circle dances accompanied by singing: St Francis of Assisi introduced joyous hymns and set up the first Nativity crib in 1224AD. Nowadays children attend a Christingle service, carrying an orange (representing the world), tied with a red ribbon (blood of Christ), decorated with a candle and sweets.

We prepare seasonal food: sugared and spiced to mask the taste of stored ingredients. Each country has its own specialities. Eat a mince pie in a friend’s house on each of the twelve days of Christmas for a happy month in the coming year. Round biscuits, puddings and pies recall the shape of the sun; the blue brandy-flames around a plum pudding recall the ancient solstice festival.

Numerology: The study of numbers

**For original version of this article with pictures, visit http://janebaileybain.wordpress.com**

The first numbers were mnemonic symbols used to record trade transactions (The Story of Writing). We count in decimals, but how many digits do we actually need? The super-computers that control our space program just use the numerals 0 and 1 (off and on). Some Australian Aboriginal tribes only bother with words for one, two and many. According to numerology, digits are more than a mere tool for calculation: they are the product of sign and sound, and have esoteric significance.

0 was invented by Babylonian priests in the Middle East around 500BC. The mathematician Fibonacci brought it to Europe around 1200AD, along with the rest of the Arabic numerals.* Zero is implicit in multiple dichotomies: absence and presence; dark and light; yin and yang. The circle is a symbol of eternal perfection, but zero has not always been seen as beneficient. For many people it carried connotations of dark magic: transcribing ‘nought’ was potentially an act of annihilation.

1 is a symbol of unity and wholeness, linked with God in the monotheistic religions. 

2 is a symbol of division, the conflict which characterizes worldly existence. It represents duality and hence potentially complementarity. In stories, twins or brothers represent different aspects of the same character. In China, the number 2 is considered lucky. At New Year, bright-coloured oranges are given in pairs.

3 is the number of divine order. It combines the numerals of 1 (divinity) with 2 (humanity). Three represents the trinity of Heaven, Earth and the Underworld. Time itself is divided into the past, present and future. The Hindu triumvirate of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva embody creation, preservation and destruction. For the Greeks and Celts, the Triple Goddess manifests as the figures of Maiden, Mother and Matriarch (Crone). Most human societies have a tripartite division (warrior-lords, priest-scholars and producers). Three is an auspicious number: third time lucky, as the storytellers remind us.

4 represents the cardinal directions, or points of the compass. The number 4 therefore represents the world and earthly existence. In Western tradition there are four winds, four seasons and four elements. Jung regarded quaternity as ‘the archetypal basis of the human psyche’. Four is especially significant in Native American myth and symbolism.

5 is the central point of the four directions. It is the sum of the first even and odd numbers, symbolizing the unity of male plus female, and the median of the first nine digits. For Muslims, there are five hours of prayer and five ritual elements of the hajj (pilgrimage). The pentagram is a symbol of esoteric knowledge, as shown in the cross-section of Eve’s apple.

6 points characterize the star formed by a pair of inverted triangles. In Hindi tradition this represents the lingam penetrating the yoni, or the union of masculine and feminine. In the West it became the Seal of Solomon (Star of David), reflecting the human combination of flesh and spirit. Six embodies the balance of good and evil in manifest creation.

7 is the sacred union of four and three: it is the number of wholeness and perfection. There are seven days of the week; seven planets; seven branches on the shamanic tree. Our lives go in seven-year cycles, and there are seven ages of man.

8 is the number of cosmic balance. On its side, it becomes the mathematical symbol for infinity.

9 is thrice three, a sacred ritual number in many traditions. Greek Demeter wandered the earth for nine days searching for Persephone. Norse Odin hung on the World Tree for nine days in search of wisdom. There were nine steps leading up to the Chinese Imperial Throne. According to Dante, there are nine celestial spheres and correspondingly nine circles of hell. Inverted and subverted, a triple nine becomes ‘the number of the devil’.

12 is the product of three and four: it links the worlds of gods, men and spirits. These are often shown conjoined by the World Tree, with Heaven in the branches and the Underworld amongst the roots. The number twelve is significant in many traditions. There are twelve seats on Mount Olympus; Jesus has twelve disciples; there are twelve signs of the zodiac, and twelve months in the solar calendar year.**

Numerology perceives meaning in quantitative symbols. Plato considered it the basis of cosmic and inward harmony; Pythagoras viewed it as fundamental to understanding cosmic rhythms. The Chinese saw it as the key to harmonizing their Empire with the Laws of Heaven. Nowadays we see digits as having pragmatic rather than predictive powers. But if you don’t believe in the magic of numbers, just consider the miraculous properties of pi....

* Zero isn’t needed for simple record-keeping systems: the Romans had a symbol for ‘10’, a separate symbol for ‘100’ (10x10), another for ‘1000’ (10x100) and so on. But zero is a useful if you have a positional system of counting. Take a number like 1001: you need to indicate that there is nothing in the tens and hundreds columns. A simple dash is easily confused, especially with a double gap. Originally, ‘0’ was merely a placeholder, a token to fill an empty space. It began to be seen as a number in India during C5AD. Nothing (the state of emptiness) is something, a profound philosophical concept: zero is the average of +1 and -1: and bingo, the science of mathematics is born.

** There are thirteen lunar months in the year. The number is thought by some to be unlucky: witches are said to meet in covens of thirteen, by the light of the moon. The Wicca pagan movement has reclaimed thirteen as the number of the Divine Feminine.