Rick, what a captivating piece. The way you've woven together your childhood memory with deeper psychological insights feels so organic. I especially love how the physical journey to the basement mirrors the Jungian descent into the shadow self—but you've made this connection through such vivid, specific details: the weak light of the bare bulb, the translucent skin of the hungry salamanders, the careful way your father's hands cradled these creatures.
Thank you for sharing this piece that so perfectly illustrates how we grow by confronting what lurks in our personal shadows.
It's so useful to have you point out these nuances and hints toward the shadow theme, which honestly I made no conscious effort to include, but that's what came out. It makes me want to go back and re-read many of your pieces that follow a similar format, using story to illustrate a psychological or neurological principle. Do you include such details on purpose in your writing? I'm curious to hear from someone who knows how to do such a thing on purpose.
Thank you for this thoughtful question, Rick! I love getting to peek behind the curtain of other writers' processes ◡̈
My essay approach is actually the reverse—I usually start with a psychological concept I want to explore (like memory or attachment patterns), and then weave in personal stories and literary references to make these ideas more accessible. But even in my fiction writing, where I'm focused primarily on story and character, I keep discovering that I've unconsciously embedded these same psychological patterns.
It's really interesting to hear that you found yourself doing something similar with the shadow imagery. I wonder if our unconscious mind understands these archetypal patterns so deeply that they naturally emerge in our storytelling.
Yes, that makes total sense to me, that the framework of storytelling immediately does so much work in the background, organically, in the effort to communicate effectively. Over time I've really come to the conclusion that it's best to trust the story to do its job. Love hearing that you experience the same, but also intrigued by the reverse construction of starting with the concept first. Very cool.
Love the call to go into the 'basement'. I think it's tough to see through the noise, ego and, digital interruptions to go down there. But all that Resistance is a signal to do it even more
*looks at the mirror* probably will need to do that sometime..
Thank you Ved. For sure it's tough! I think that's idea with having a few formal contemplative practices, meditation and such. Without creating intentional spaces for this the noise and distractions are going to win.
Joseph Conrad wrote "Heart of Darkness" in 1899... and never since has there been a novel that so clearly portrays the lure of "not knowing" ... of darkness. The protagonist heads into certain danger up the Congo River deep into terra incognita... which we might take as the perfect metaphor for "story". Your basement, Rick, was your Congo. And you've made Congos out of many fears... and bravely headed up those jungle rivers. You've inspired me over the years, my friend.
Thank you PJ. You've driven the supremacy of the "certain danger" perspective deep into my awareness as a writer over the years, so I have you to thank for elevating the principle in my attention. I hope to hear more of your own Congo stories as well.
Rick, as always, you succeed in connecting a vividly detailed experience with an elemental truth about the human condition. So many wise gems, such as: "It is inescapably human to have fear inside of us, but it is not our destiny to live in fear." And I learned so much about your dad through one detail: the way he raised and nurtured you through his open palm of support. Well done!
Thank you Larry. I especially enjoyed getting to share this essay with my dad today. There are so many ways to express love and appreciation through story.
Thank you Don. Re another book. Sort of . . .? Mostly keeping these stories going here, but thinking of something more on the art of personal storytelling.
Such vivid storytelling, Rick. I felt like I was with you, facing down the same fears and delighting in tickling the nose of one of your darling magical creatures.
Then you go and weave in bucket loads of wisdom! This gem stood out to me:
“we have been trained to avoid the basement where both our greatest fears and greatest loves have been confined. In fact, our greatest fears and potential are often side by side and we put rules in place to protect ourselves from getting too close to these subconscious danger zones.”
Is this a new rule to add to your book of 7 rules we’re born to break, or a subset of rule 4: stay comfortable?
Thanks for the 7 rule question. Stay Comfortable for sure. Avoid Mistakes is implicated, along with Pretend You Don't Matter, and Be Popular. All of those rules are ways we convince ourselves to do other things instead of living with courage and purpose.
Thanks for sharing, Rick! That was a good late-night read.
The fears we face as adults are so much harder, sometimes bigger than ourselves! Those defining childhood moments, when we overcome basic fears, are the tokens that keep us pushing forward in the face of greater threats.
I think you're right. Those early braveries can be hugely important for the big stuff we eventually face—not that it doesn't feel bigger than ourselves in the moment when we're kids. It seems to be part of the miraculous power of the human spirit, to rise up to face a fear. Recalling those early victories can be an important reminder that we can do it!
That's were we grow/develop and understand who we are. Open the basement door & keep it open. We need to remember what's buried. Nobody can bury their own memories.
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The past isn't the past, it's what made us who we are.
DAMN RICK, I didn't know that your father was a professor of herpetology. I am BUZZING right now. Damn. You would have seen so much growing up. This piece has got me all hyped up. Amazing man!
I never connected those dots of your expertise and the exposure I had to this growing up. Probably it's partly why I love the work you're doing so much.
Rick, what a captivating piece. The way you've woven together your childhood memory with deeper psychological insights feels so organic. I especially love how the physical journey to the basement mirrors the Jungian descent into the shadow self—but you've made this connection through such vivid, specific details: the weak light of the bare bulb, the translucent skin of the hungry salamanders, the careful way your father's hands cradled these creatures.
Thank you for sharing this piece that so perfectly illustrates how we grow by confronting what lurks in our personal shadows.
It's so useful to have you point out these nuances and hints toward the shadow theme, which honestly I made no conscious effort to include, but that's what came out. It makes me want to go back and re-read many of your pieces that follow a similar format, using story to illustrate a psychological or neurological principle. Do you include such details on purpose in your writing? I'm curious to hear from someone who knows how to do such a thing on purpose.
Thank you for this thoughtful question, Rick! I love getting to peek behind the curtain of other writers' processes ◡̈
My essay approach is actually the reverse—I usually start with a psychological concept I want to explore (like memory or attachment patterns), and then weave in personal stories and literary references to make these ideas more accessible. But even in my fiction writing, where I'm focused primarily on story and character, I keep discovering that I've unconsciously embedded these same psychological patterns.
It's really interesting to hear that you found yourself doing something similar with the shadow imagery. I wonder if our unconscious mind understands these archetypal patterns so deeply that they naturally emerge in our storytelling.
Yes, that makes total sense to me, that the framework of storytelling immediately does so much work in the background, organically, in the effort to communicate effectively. Over time I've really come to the conclusion that it's best to trust the story to do its job. Love hearing that you experience the same, but also intrigued by the reverse construction of starting with the concept first. Very cool.
Love the call to go into the 'basement'. I think it's tough to see through the noise, ego and, digital interruptions to go down there. But all that Resistance is a signal to do it even more
*looks at the mirror* probably will need to do that sometime..
Thank you Ved. For sure it's tough! I think that's idea with having a few formal contemplative practices, meditation and such. Without creating intentional spaces for this the noise and distractions are going to win.
“It is inescapably human to have fear inside of us, but it is not our destiny to live in fear.”
So beautiful Rick. And so powerful when combined with Marsha’s question above, “What is our basement?”
A wonderful journey to start my morning! 🙏
Thank you James.
What IS in my basement, waiting to be fed... Hmm...
You're going to report back after you go down there, right? Now we're all curious.
Joseph Conrad wrote "Heart of Darkness" in 1899... and never since has there been a novel that so clearly portrays the lure of "not knowing" ... of darkness. The protagonist heads into certain danger up the Congo River deep into terra incognita... which we might take as the perfect metaphor for "story". Your basement, Rick, was your Congo. And you've made Congos out of many fears... and bravely headed up those jungle rivers. You've inspired me over the years, my friend.
Thank you PJ. You've driven the supremacy of the "certain danger" perspective deep into my awareness as a writer over the years, so I have you to thank for elevating the principle in my attention. I hope to hear more of your own Congo stories as well.
Rick, as always, you succeed in connecting a vividly detailed experience with an elemental truth about the human condition. So many wise gems, such as: "It is inescapably human to have fear inside of us, but it is not our destiny to live in fear." And I learned so much about your dad through one detail: the way he raised and nurtured you through his open palm of support. Well done!
Thank you Larry. I especially enjoyed getting to share this essay with my dad today. There are so many ways to express love and appreciation through story.
"I opened the door a crack, reached in, and groped for the light switch." What a perfect sentence! Rick, are you currently working on another book?
Thank you Don. Re another book. Sort of . . .? Mostly keeping these stories going here, but thinking of something more on the art of personal storytelling.
Such vivid storytelling, Rick. I felt like I was with you, facing down the same fears and delighting in tickling the nose of one of your darling magical creatures.
Then you go and weave in bucket loads of wisdom! This gem stood out to me:
“we have been trained to avoid the basement where both our greatest fears and greatest loves have been confined. In fact, our greatest fears and potential are often side by side and we put rules in place to protect ourselves from getting too close to these subconscious danger zones.”
Is this a new rule to add to your book of 7 rules we’re born to break, or a subset of rule 4: stay comfortable?
Thanks for the 7 rule question. Stay Comfortable for sure. Avoid Mistakes is implicated, along with Pretend You Don't Matter, and Be Popular. All of those rules are ways we convince ourselves to do other things instead of living with courage and purpose.
Thanks for sharing, Rick! That was a good late-night read.
The fears we face as adults are so much harder, sometimes bigger than ourselves! Those defining childhood moments, when we overcome basic fears, are the tokens that keep us pushing forward in the face of greater threats.
I think you're right. Those early braveries can be hugely important for the big stuff we eventually face—not that it doesn't feel bigger than ourselves in the moment when we're kids. It seems to be part of the miraculous power of the human spirit, to rise up to face a fear. Recalling those early victories can be an important reminder that we can do it!
You took me on a wonderful childhood journey that resonates in a frightening adult world. Thank you.
Wow Gloria, what a kind and poignant comment. I appreciate your response.
Rick; I like the element of childhood/youth.
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That's were we grow/develop and understand who we are. Open the basement door & keep it open. We need to remember what's buried. Nobody can bury their own memories.
-
The past isn't the past, it's what made us who we are.
Yes, I like that. The past is so very present in who we have become. Thanks Karl.
DAMN RICK, I didn't know that your father was a professor of herpetology. I am BUZZING right now. Damn. You would have seen so much growing up. This piece has got me all hyped up. Amazing man!
I never connected those dots of your expertise and the exposure I had to this growing up. Probably it's partly why I love the work you're doing so much.