Reflections on Myths and Abuse of Power

My studies of mythology strangely originated in my teenage ambitions to be a lawyer. I chose Latin as a subject on the recommendation of the lawyers in my family. I fell in love with Latin literature, which I continued studying even when law turned out not to be the right choice for me. I also studied psychology, which complimented Latin literature in an unexpected way: through learning about the work of psychoanalysts such as Carl Jung, the myths I studied gained new meaning.

I became interested in the symbolism of gold in myths after I wrote my first novel, which can be described as a creative experiment guided by my subconscious. Gold is a symbolic theme in my novel and it also features in the title, In Search of the Golden City. When I resumed my studies of mythology after a hiatus of about five years, the mythical golden age which originated in some of the oldest Greek literature was the natural choice for a research topic. The author whose work I focused on was Ovid, a Roman poet from the first century B.C. whose work is well known for its wit, ambivalence, and political commentary. Even though I had never had much interest in the political side of history, I couldn’t avoid looking at it, because the myth of the golden age had become a political myth in the time of Augustus - the emperor was said to usher in a new golden age. My favourite poet poked fun at those in power by comparing them to angry gods who took advantage of defenseless humans.

Mythology remains a somewhat mysterious subject. Many think a myth is simply an untrue story, a concoction made up by ancient people who did not have science to explain the world. I don’t think myths are untrue in any way, provided they are not taken literally. To me, they reveal some truth about what it means to be human, coloured by the culture of its origins. Joseph Campbell, a mythologist whose work I respect very much, said that the inner landscape of humanity has not changed much in several thousands of years, even though our outside reality barely resembles the world humans lived in a few millennia ago. When I studied the Golden Age and its connections with political power through the words of Ovid, I learned something which I think is still relevant today. Personal power is an important theme to me because of its importance in healing. Much as I would like to separate it from politics, simply because I have no interest, it is impossible to do so.

The Golden Age by Lucas Cranach the Elder

The myth of the golden age is possibly even older than the oldest known Greek literature and describes a fall from grace, much like the story of Eden. It first appeared in Hesiod’s Works and Days, which dates from about seven centuries B.C. Hesiod describes a progression from the golden age to silver, bronze and finally the iron age, which he laments having to live in because of all the injustice in the world. Interestingly, the myth of Pandora also features in this work as an alternative explanation for all the evils in the world. Although on the surface it may appear that women are made the scapegoat, I think it is a metaphor for that which we desire but cannot control. Perhaps it even points to the division between genders, which I think is more of a fragmentation within the individual and collective psyche than a battle between the sexes.

Aratus was the next Greek poet to describe the myth in his Phaenomena, which dates from about the third century B.C. Phaenomena means “things that appear” and the work describes the constellations and how they came to be there, of course in mythical rather than scientific terms. Aratus connects the golden age with the constellation Virgo. The maiden is associated with justice and the golden age is described as an era when she still lived on earth and mingled with humankind. When the fall from gold to silver happened, she gradually withdrew from human affairs, until the race of bronze drove her to take abode in the sky, unable to cope with their wicked ways.

In Ovid’s version of the golden age in the Metamorphoses, the movement from gold to silver, bronze and then iron follows a similar trajectory. Two things stand out in his version of events. The first is that the iron age coincided with the discovery of gold in the material sense, reminding that desires if left unchecked can bring out the less desirable qualities in us, much like the Pandora myth. The second is that although it was ruled over by Saturn, there is no mention of the gods in the text at all until the fall is near. After this section of the work, the gods take centre stage, constantly ravishing helpless humans and interfering in their affairs.

I won’t go into all the details of the myth and the Metamorphoses, which is literally a work of epic proportions. My conclusion, however, was that there was a connection between the fall from grace and the rise of power in the imperial sense of the word. As soon as men started striving for dominion over the earth, they became the subjects of angry gods, or the political figures favoured by them. From a philosophical perspective, one could ponder about the meaning of the golden age and whether it truly meant the absence of all ills. What is striking to me, however, is the division between divinity and humanity associated with a fallen state.

Another course in my degree programme was agricultural slavery in the ancient world. We also looked at modern slavery, which was only finally abolished a few centuries ago, merely a fraction of time in the known history of humanity. Much as this was an unpleasant topic, I think it is important to look at one’s shadow to progress in any meaningful way, and the history of my species is part of what I need to look at within myself. One of the most hailed philosophers of the Western world, Aristotle, waxed lyrical about the existence of natural slaves. The Latin word for slave is servus and it is derived from the verb servare, which means to save. Slaves were those who had been spared from being killed when they lost a war. It is strange how even in those days domination of another human being was justified, even by intellectuals.

Closer to home, I lived in apartheid South Africa for the first ten years of my life. I now live in Scotland, and nearly three decades later I’m pretty sure most people I speak to would consider apartheid one of the most abominable institutions in recent history. But having lived with it, albeit not too long, I know that it was simply how things were. There were white people who questioned it, but I think most did not, or they did not want to share their views too loudly, or they felt powerless to change anything. I’m simply speculating because I was a child, and I can’t remember everything. But I do know that the Bible was used to justify apartheid, and few would dare to question God. Furthermore, questionable psychometric tests posing as science was used on black people to “prove” inferiority and thereby justify policies of unequal education. Of course, these studies were later discredited. When the regime ended, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission was established to help heal the wounds of the past. Many good-hearted white people were shocked and horrified by everything that emerged – they could not believe what the government had been up to.

If there has ever been an era in human history where abuse of power did not occur, I would like to know about it – it seems as old as humanity itself. I find it surprising that we still hesitate to question those in positions of power, or even other forms of authority posing as people with lots of knowledge. I don’t intend to dismiss the expertise of those who are very knowledgeable in a given area, but I do think that there is always more than one way of looking at something. I find it somewhat ironic that after millennia of wars that probably did not need to be fought, human rights abuses that only benefited those in power and social inequality that seems completely senseless, few people have considered their own role in defining the collective reality.

This is where I make the connection between personal power, which is so important in healing, and external power. I don’t think it’s completely accurate to assume that we live in a world where we are subject to laws and power structures decided by others. I think we are the reality, and each person contributes to it, whether they do so consciously or not. No leader or government structure, corrupt or otherwise, could ever wield power unless it is backed up by the beliefs of hundreds, thousands or millions of people. No abuse of power could ever happen if it wasn’t fuelled by the actions (or lack thereof) of subjects.

In Ovid’s version of the golden age myth, the absence of laws was an indication of the presence of justice. I think that gives us a clue on how we can find our way back home if we feel oppressed. If we claim full responsibility for our consciousness and live by our internally guided truth, there is no more externalisation of power. Each choice we have can be a powerful one and an expression of who we are, and we are free to revise it and do better next time if we miss the mark. When external forces attempt to impose their will on us, we can see it as an opportunity to claim our sovereignty. I’m not suggesting we will all suddenly be enlightened and the world’s problems will disappear, but I think it’s a good place to start.

The question remains of what exactly is the golden age, and to me the beauty of myth is that we can interpret it in a way that we find meaningful. The common theme between the various versions of the golden age myth and Eden is the presence of divinity among humanity. There is reference to abundance in Aratus’s treatment of the myth, and the garden of Eden to me suggests harmony with nature and an interconnection between all living things. Perhaps the topic is too deep to fully capture through something as mundane as words. I don’t want to discount the idea of a true paradise on earth, but I think it could be as simple as knowing we are connected to the source of all life and the universe is in us as much as it is around us. Perhaps from that place of knowing, power over another seems absurd, because we are not separate from them. When we let go of relying on a saviour and the fear of death no longer haunts us, perhaps we can begin to explore the true power of love.

Spider Symbolism: Resistance

Recently when I was feeling very stuck I had some imagery coming to me and I turned it into a poem (loose definition). I then made a drawing to accompany it. The spider and her web were apt symbols because of the association with danger and bondage but also creativity.

I am reminded of the classical myth of Arachne, a female personification of the spider. In Ovid’s Metamorphoses there is a weaving contest between a mortal woman, Arachne, and the goddess of crafts and wisdom, Athena. Not only was Arachne extremely skilful, but she also exposed the crimes of the gods through her weaving. The infuriated goddess turned her into a spider as punishment. As a remnant of her human gift, the spider still spins her web.

Shelob & Me

The mortal and the divine are both present in the story. I would contend that Arachne and Minerva are mirror images of one another. Suppressed creativity can turn into darkness, as symbolised by the lonesome spider. The feeling of oppression, although inconvenient, often would not leave us alone until we claim our creative gifts. My poem is called “The Resistance”.

The Resistance
Like a shadow of the night she comes
Enfolded in darkness
In her hand is a scythe
Gleaming in the moonlight
The door is closed, but she comes in uninvited
Takes a seat on my bed.
I pretend not to be afraid, but my throat constricts.
I ignore her, waiting for the sun to come up.
But time stands still. She is not going anywhere.
She makes me cry.
Why are you holding me back? I hear myself moan.
Why are you making me weak?
The room fades out as her presence turns into a nightmare

A spider she is, and I the moth stuck in her web
The sticky strands clamp wilfully around my wrists.
I try to scream, but my throat is tight
Blue fangs, red eyes
Coming in for the attack
She wants to prey on me, paralyse me
Turn me into an empty shell
Poison moves closer, the end is nigh
Her foul mouth leans in for the kiss
The red eyes connect with mine, become larger
They show me gaunt figures
Lifetimes of suffering
The unloved ones know not how un-alone they truly are
Despairing, they look as trapped as I feel
So many gifts going to waste.
I sympathise with the spider, and surrender
She bites, and my mind is lulled into a soporific sleep
A goddess is holding me, takes me up into the night sky
I sit on the moon and look down on a beautiful creation
A woven tapestry
Magical story created from the self-same strands that held me
This is why I won’t leave you alone, she whispers,
Know yourself.

Sacrifice

Sacrifice is not a pleasant word to many. It implies we need to give up some things we love for the sake of hopefully gaining something else we need or want. The everyday reality for most people contains a mixture of pleasure and pain. Nobody can do everything, and where we need to make choices there is often a sacrifice involved.

In modern spirituality I find a prevailing notion that we can have and be everything we want if we apply the spiritual “laws” of the universe. I don’t agree with this, because it denies so many aspects of the human experience. In this context sacrifice is shunned as something negative. Since sacrifice is a prominent theme in religion and mythology, I want to look at the deeper meaning of the concept and what it can teach us.

I grew up in the Christian religion, and one of the main tenets was the sacrifice of Christ, the son of God, for the sake of humanity. In the Old Testament we read about God demanding Abraham to sacrifice his beloved son Isaac. The son and father are saved in the last minute due to the love of God and the faith of Abraham. The New and Old Testament examples of sacrifice both involve divine love and the threat of death. In both cases human death is not the final outcome as Christ is resurrected and Isaac is saved with a ram sacrificed in his place. In the New Testament story God sacrifices his son for the love of humanity, while in the Old Testament example human sacrifice is needed to please God. As a child I found the idea of sacrifice vindictive and I never understood why Christ had to suffer for the sins of others. A symbolic interpretation however may shed light on what the sacrifice means.

The Sacrifice of Iphigenia by François Perrier.
From Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain.

In Greek mythology there is Iphigenia, daughter of the Greek king Agamemnon in the war between the Greeks and the Trojans. Her sacrifice to the goddess Artemis was required for the king’s war pursuits to be successful. An animal was also involved as according to some sources the king offended Artemis by killing a deer, which was sacred to her as a goddess of hunting and wild animals. In some versions Iphigenia was saved and replaced by a deer. Iphigenia also appears as a priestess of Artemis. It is worth noting that Artemis is a virgin goddess, and the sacrifice was planned to take place on Iphigenia’s supposed wedding day. (Source: Wikipedia)

In The Undying Stars by David Mathisen, the theme of sacrifice in religion and mythology is discussed in detail. One of the theories presented in the book is that ancient myths, including those found in religious texts, point to the heavens and are an allegory for the movements of the stars and planets. The movement of the sun is used as a metaphor for the (recurring) journey of the human soul in corporeal existence. It is suggested that the theme of sacrifice is connected to the equinoxes and the animal symbolism is associated with the signs of the zodiac. In the case of Isaac, the ram is clearly Aries, the sign of the spring equinox in the northern hemisphere or autumn in the southern hemisphere. It is suggested that the deer in Iphigenia’s case represents the constellation Centaurus, which is near Virgo and the crossing of the celestial equator at the September equinox.

Because the equinoxes signify a turning point from longer days into longer nights or vice versa, they are a metaphor for the process of birth and death, or the journey into or out of the human body. The book provides a far more comprehensive explanation, and I would recommend it to anyone who is interested in the topic. For the purpose of this article the idea is meaningful as it demonstrates the cosmic significance of myths. In the case of sacrifice in particular it tells us something about the balance between the spiritual and material sides of our existence, as signified by the balance between day and night on the equinoxes.

Going deeper into the notion of traversing the boundary between spiritual and physical, I think sacrifice has to do with how we create ourselves. I have written before on the gift of limitation. To know the individual self it is necessary to leave behind the realm of infinite possibilities. We retain some creative potential which we can work with in a world constrained by matter. To return to infinite love, the body and ego must be left behind. Of course nobody really knows what happens after death, but some research, such as the work of Michael Newton, suggests our souls contain memories of lives on earth even after leaving our bodies. Connecting this with the movement of the sun as a metaphor for the journey of the soul, it is worth noting that there is day and night at all times of the year in most places on earth. Sometimes there is more of the day and sometimes more of the night, but the two polarities exist side by side.

In the story of Iphigenia the sacrifice to a virgin goddess is meaningful if we consider that her (possible) death happened on her wedding day. To me this says something about the sacrifice required in partnership. To be committed to someone else, a person inevitably gives up some of their freedom and independence, perhaps symbolised by virginity. If we go with the version of events where Iphigenia was saved and became a priestess of the goddess, this could indicate a different kind of devotion to an ideal. The benefits of partnership are forfeited by those who choose the path of chastity. If chastity signifies inner development, it could perhaps point to the solitude involved in embarking on a spiritual journey.

The word sacrifice comes from the Latin sacrificium, which is a contraction of sacer, which means sacred, and facere, which means make. To make the experience of giving something up sacred, we could perhaps adjust our understanding of sacrifice. Between the polarities of humanity and divinity where sacrifice usually takes place, there is a tension that cannot be resolved. I believe this points to the yin and yang in the universe, the sacred dance of opposites where new things are created. This is also illustrated through the sexual unity between man and woman resulting in the birth of an offspring.

Love is a theme in all these examples of sacrifice, although in the example of Iphigenia there is also conflict and self-interest that could lead to death. In each case the victim is saved through love, devotion and mercy. The wisdom of sacrifice could be that when we adopt the perspective of the soul in our human endeavours, suffering can be transcended. The need to choose what we dedicate ourselves to is highlighted. The journey in the human body with all its trials can be understood as a gift when considering the bigger picture of our spiritual origins.

Contemplating the Ocean

I find the ocean to be a curious reflection of our own make-up as humans. The largest proportion of the earth’s surface comprises oceans, much like our bodies predominantly consist of water. The ocean’s water is salty, and so is human blood. Tides are ruled by the moon, as is the female menstrual cycle. The ocean affects climate and weather cycles, which also impact our sources of food and shelter. Oceans can be a means of transport, but they aren’t free from danger. Despite the destructive power of the ocean, it has a calming effect on my mind.

One of the fascinating aspects of the ocean is its depth. Even those humans who venture into the ocean can barely skim the surface. The seas have shaped our collective history as humans and yet the average person knows little about it. When chunks of the ocean become frozen, only the tip of the iceberg is visible above water. At deep levels there is very little light, and the magnitude of life at those depths evades our understanding. Where land meets sea, the waves that crash on the shores have been travelling for miles on end.

In mystical and psychological terms the ocean is symbolic of the unconscious mind. To me this portrays how much of what we experience in our daily lives is influenced by a hidden realm where there are multitudes of unknown life forms. As humans we grow in the water of the womb before we are born as individuals. Our corporeal incubation in water cannot be remembered, and I think the same applies to our consciousness. The vastness of the ocean can only be felt through contemplation. The waters of the seas are all connected to one another. When we touch the waters we have access to, we interact with the depths and the life forms residing in them.

In astrology and Roman mythology two major archetypes are associated with the ocean: Venus and Neptune. In astrology both are linked with love and artistic inspiration. Water is also the realm of emotion, and to me this illustrates how inspiration springs from unknown places in ourselves, mediated by emotion. The uncontrollable aspect of water tells me something about the nature of love. Very little is known about the depths that move us, but few actions are worthwhile unless inspired by the power of love.

Symbolism of Snake and Choice

The snake has fascinating connotations in religious and spiritual mythology of many traditions. While in the Bible the snake is associated with evil, this is not the case in all mythology. There is a trend of dragonish or serpentine figures being slain in acts of heroism in some folklore. I find the similarity between the serpentine symbolism in the Biblical Garden of Eden and the Garden of Hesperides in Greek mythology particularly remarkable, although in the latter the dragon is not associated with evil. In both cases there are fruits that need to be guarded, a tree and a serpentine creature associated with the fruits, although the story is different in each case. These are just two of the many myths. I will look at a few other mythical examples before offering my own reflections on the symbolism of the snake.

Image By Geoff Gallice (from Wikimedia Commons)

The Greek poet Nicander of Colophon told a story concerning a snake in his work Theriaca (On Harmful Animals). The venom of the snake under discussion would cause an inordinate amount of thirst in a victim that has been bitten, to such an extent that they would drink water until their belly bursts without finding relief. The description of the harmful animal is then followed with a myth concerning the snake. The god Cronos gave humans immortality, but they became weary because of its weight and gave it to a donkey to carry. The donkey ran off because it was thirsty and encountered the snake, which it asked to help it. The snake took the donkey’s burden but also acquired its thirst, which explains why its venom causes so much thirst and also how humans lost their immortality. Since the reign of the god Cronos is associated with the Golden Age, this myth can be considered a variant on the fall from grace. It also suggests a link with the snake’s association with alchemy.

The myth of the Twelve Labours of Hercules is an example of the theme of serpents being slain. One of Hercules’ tasks was to slay the Lernaean Hydra, a monster with several serpentine heads of which one was immortal. During the battle each head, after being severed, would be replaced by two more. Hercules eventually succeeded by scorching the stump of each severed head using fire. He severed the immortal head using a golden sword and buried it under a rock. Interestingly, Lerna is also the site of the Danaids in Greek mythology. These women were condemned to spend eternity in the underworld carrying water in sieves. The association of leaking water brings to mind Nicander’s notion of excessive thirst, although the connection is not direct. The theme of gold also shows up in this myth through the sword.

The story of Medusa is one of a woman with serpentine hair whose stare would turn people to stone. She was beheaded by the hero Perseus, after which the severed head was used as a weapon. Symbolically I think there is a deeper meaning to Medusa’s death stare since the eyes are the windows of the soul. To me Medusa (meaning guardian or protectress) had the power to disarm people because she could see through them, peering into their souls, which made them powerless against her. Looking at it that way, the serpentine connection with the garden and the tree with fruits either of knowledge or of immortality becomes clearer. Medusa’s disarming death stare implies knowledge of an order beyond what the normal eye can see.

In the more recent literature of JK Rowling’s Harry Potter series, the serpent is associated with great evil. One of the central themes of the work, however, is the choice between good and evil which boils down to the power of love or the love of power. Lord Voldemort is the evil wizard who strove for immortality and corrupted his own soul in his quest for power. Harry is his counterpart who also has the rare gift of being able to talk to snakes. Unlike Lord Voldemort, Harry is a fairly ordinary wizard who has love and courage on his side, which enables him to achieve victory against evil together with his loved ones. In this case also, some form of extra-ordinary knowledge is implied in the gift of being able to communicate with snakes. The duality of choice is emphasised, which reminds of the fall from grace in the Garden of Eden. Adam and Eve’s awareness of self is symbolised by the realisation that they were naked. Ego consciousness implies limitation, which is also necessary to define oneself through one’s actions. The different possibilities that this presents gave rise to evil being released in the world.

In my personal meditations, the snake communicated to me the origins of our existence as souls taking material form. In many cultures, the snake is associated with healing and wisdom. When asking why this theme showed up and what its use was to me at this point, I received the message that the snake teaches about essence. The choice is not necessarily between good and evil or even fear and love, but about being true to the deeper levels of one’s being or not. When rooted in one’s spiritual essence, balance is easier to achieve in the physical world. The choice then is not about manoeuvring between what makes more or less sense in the practical world or choosing right over wrong; rather it’s a matter of interacting with one’s surroundings in a way that reflects one’s personal truth.

This brings me to the next point: the snake’s habit of shedding its skin. We often think of growing in terms of painful learning processes or moving away from things that no longer work. The snake however teaches that although it sheds its skin when it is time for it to do so, this happens when there is more of the snake. The snake literally becomes too large for its old coating, after which it forms a new one to accommodate its larger size. This is a never-ending process happening in regular intervals throughout the snake’s lifetime. I like to think of it as assimilating experiences into the self, consequently having more at one’s disposal to use and apply on one’s path while also becoming stronger in the process. For a week or two before each shed the snake enters a period of inactivity, associated with impaired eyesight and general dullness, sometimes aggression. After shedding its skin, the new skin is somewhat vulnerable until it is adapted. Symbolically this sounds a lot like the human personal growth process to me. After shedding its skin, some snakes defecate or drink water, which brings to mind purification and also connects with Nicander’s story of the snake’s thirst.

To me the message was useful because of the personal conflicts I have with career, work and personal convictions. I am at a point where I feel I have to find a way of aligning work with purpose. It is no use waiting for someone to encourage me, give me opportunities or tell me that it’s right. I have conflict with the idea of selling myself, not only because it is easier to respond to an advertisement knowing that a service is needed, but possibly also because I have grown up with the idea of a standard being set by someone and everyone can compete. According to this notion, an independent judge or objective measurement will be the arbiter of who has done best, which makes obtaining something fair regardless of the players’ (possibly questionable) tactics. I now realise that my choice comes down to living and acting my beliefs on one hand or hiding them where they cannot be criticised on the other. If I don’t want to sell myself because of my negative associations with the concept, I will promote someone else’s beliefs without giving thought to whether it is beneficial for me or anyone else. My challenge is therefore to be as authentic as possible in everything I do, not only the areas where I consider it safe or where I feel the rules allow it.

Spirituality is only useful if it can be applied in a practical sense. In the end everything we give energy to is spiritual because we build the world based on our beliefs and actions. The serpentine wisdom could be the knowledge that if we live our true essence, the immortality of the soul is our natural state of being. On earth we need to harmonise it with our material existence, but it does not need to be enforced. From my perspective, that is also the difference between the true kind of power and the one based on illusion.

Source for biological information on snakes: http://www.animalhospitals-usa.com/reptiles/snakes/snake-shedding.html 

Source for literary and mythological information: Wikipedia and some ancient texts.

Pandora and the Fear of Beauty

This week I had to do a class presentation on the myth of Prometheus and Pandora as it features in the writings of the Greek poet Hesiod. The myth is quite difficult to grasp and has been interpreted in various different ways. I would suggest reading the writings of the Greek poet Hesiod (Theogony and Works and Days) as it is also important to consider it within the context of the entire work. I have only read the English translation, which limits my ability to accurately render the poet’s intent. Nevertheless, I would like to offer my own interpretation, supplemented by class discussions as well as secondary literature by the hands of Dr L.G. Canevaro and S. Nelson. The translation I worked from is by M.L. West. My interpretation goes hand in hand with my personal experiences, which is perhaps most important to get any value from the mythology that I study.

Prometheus is a character that represents foresight. He has a brother, Epimetheus, who represents hindsight. From what I understand, they were not mortals but represented mankind. Prometheus tried to trick Zeus through unfair division of portions of a slaughtered animal. This angered Zeus, which caused him to take away “untiring fire” from mankind. Prometheus stole back a “far-beaconing flare” of untiring fire for mankind, which he hid in a fennel stalk. As punishment, Zeus gave mankind Pandora, who represents women. She was adorned by all the gifts from the various gods but had a thievish nature. Epimetheus was stupid enough to accept the gift of Pandora.

This let out all the evils in the world because Pandora unstopped the jar. However, she closed the lid on “elpis” (usually interpreted as hope but more accurately translated as expectation) which remained in the jar by the providence of Zeus. In the work of Hesiod, men of the Iron Age have to work for a living because of the progressive deterioration of mankind. (Read more on the mythology of the ages here.) In this context, women are not to be trusted; they might deceive you through their appearances but only be interested in your wealth. The best way to deal with them is to keep them close, control them, or alternatively make a good choice. A good woman can be worth gold.

 

Image by André Koekemoer

The myth has been interpreted along the lines of hope as something positive to help us deal with all the evils in the world. The poet has also been described as a misogynist. However, I think that there is much more to the myth of Pandora. I cannot disregard the Freudian association of Pandora’s jar. She hypnotises men but the desire to have her can never be fulfilled. Looking at it that way, expectation remains safe in the jar because man doesn’t have access to it. Pandora is a trick in response to Prometheus’ trick of unfair division of portions. Because of expectation or hope of fulfilment that is beyond man’s reach, the evils have flown out into the world, out of control. The punishment of the gods is due to Pandora consuming the wealth of man while he has to work for a living.

The portion of fire stolen back by Prometheus could shed some light on what this myth means. Untiring fire belonged to mankind to start with, but after the trickery man only acquired a far-beaconing flare of it. This represents the advent of ego consciousness, which explains the need to control and possess what is a gift that can never belong to us anyway. The illusion lies in the fact that we are lured to what we desire but we cannot have it. Because of the continual expectation that having something would mean fulfilment of the desire, living is hard work. The world is a place filled with evils because everyone has to fight to get a portion of the value that deceives us. The story of Pandora is not only man’s dilemma, but the world we have created together where fulfilment is always on the horizon. The more we try to acquire what we value, the more it consumes us. Man might think himself to be cunning, but only in looking back do we see the chaos we have created by our short-sightedness.

After the class presentation and completing my week’s worth of planned studies, I had an empty space of a couple of hours’ time while waiting for my partner to arrive home. As the world moves at an ever faster pace, I become increasingly aware of the need to use every spare moment to create something valuable. I never seem to have enough time, and yet this empty stretch felt threatening. I have had something in mind that I wanted to draw but I couldn’t bring myself to use this space to work on the project. I was tired but that wasn’t what prevented me from getting to work since creative expression usually gives me energy. It was fear that stood in my way.

I have worked hard to move past my fear of failure. Since I wouldn’t be doing it to achieve anything I had trouble understanding what I was afraid of. I realised that it was the fear of beauty which stood in my way. Mankind’s response to Pandora, the gift from the gods, was not only the tension experienced by men in response to what they desire. She represents the beauty in everything that is God given and our own fear that we might not live up to what we appreciate in something outside of ourselves. I felt afraid of drawing something because I wanted it to represent the beautiful image in my mind’s eye and was afraid that it wouldn’t. The fear is of not being worthy of the beauty in creation that has been given to me for free as an act of love. It is because of beauty that we fear being inadequate, in response to which we continually need to prove ourselves through being better or having more.

Maybe if we learn to accept the gifts from the gods without allowing the perception of only being a far-beaconing flare of untiring fire to stand in our way, we could start reversing the trick of unfair divisions of portions.