I remembered a brunch of friends and I went on a Green Turtle tour. Green Turtle is the name of the tour company. We were to spent the next 4-5 days of our lives touring the West Coast (of America) in a magic school bus with other adventure-lusters. The bus was magical to me because the seats and folding tables could be transformed into sleeping compartments at night. You may call it ingenious human engineering of physical parts. But I was in awe when the transformation process took place each night.
There was a palliative nurse on the tour. She’s probably in her late thirties or forties. She was described as a hippy by one of my friends. She went to everyone in the tour and ask them (as I vaguely recalled) “What’s your spirit animal? Give it an adjective before the name of the animal”. I thought furiously what my spirit animal was, the first time I encountered the concept. When it came to my turn, I said “Rising phoenix”. “I hereby name you Rising Phoenix” she pronounced. And so, I was Rising Phoenix. That was about eight or nine years ago.
This morning, I was reading about a book on phoenixes . It suddenly occurred to me that I dislike birds. Maybe I dislike them because of my irrational fear of them. In my mind’s eye, I would stroke a bird and it would struggle and flap its wings. It would also attack me with its beak. All figments of my imagination you see.
With my unconscious dislike of birds, I’m surprised to realise that I’m drawn to them, at least the phoenix variety, and writing about them. I wonder whether there’s a buried phoenix within me waiting to rise from the ashes? Perhaps it’s another part of me to be integrated as part of my personality / conscious self so that I’m a more ‘complete’ person? In psychology terms, the phoenix is my shadow – the bits of myself that I have disowned. This brought to my mind Jung’s individualization process. A Google search led to this website which is rather insightful.
So, I think I’m supposed to connect with my inner phoenix, whatever that may be. Wow, it’s day three. This journaling shit does kinda ‘work’.