The Birth of Terrapin Synchronicity

The Birth of Terrapin Synchronicity  

by Gary S. Bobroff, M.A.

Robert Hunter (left) and Jerry Garcia (right)

Robert Hunter (left) and Jerry Garcia (right)

Songwriting partnerships are frequently amongst the most intimate of friendships.  Often they are two people who know each other very well and who have the repeated opportunity to express their feelings towards each other in song.  They have privilege of putting words in each other’s mouth.  They are creating together; jointly bringing something new into the world. 

Beginning in the early 1960’s when they travelled the country together following bluegrass originator Bill Monroe until the latter’s death in 1995, Robert Hunter and Jerry Garcia created music together.  Hunter wrote the now-called Americana-style lyrics that gave the Grateful Dead much of its meaning, depth and beauty and Garcia wrote the music and led the pioneering band through its improvisational spaces on over 2000 different nights.  

Together they asked us to “look for a while at the China Cat Sunflower” – coming out of it were “comic book colours on a violin river cryin'  Leonardo words from out a silk trombone.”  Here Hunter’s words capture the joyful movement of psychadelia.

Together they gave us the vivacious Sugar Magnolia who:

 ‘can dance a Cajun rhythm
Jump like a Willys in four wheel drive
She's a summer love in the spring, fall and winter
She can make happy any man alive.

They made music of death and rebirth, reflecting the journeys of consciousness they were making.  They well-earned the day-after enlightened appreciation of waking up to “to find out that you are the Eyes of the World.  Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings.” 

They wrote songs in styles of folk ballads, Brazilian samba, haiku but most of all they uncovered a uniquely American hybrid.  Live–a Grateful Dead show regularly included country, jazz, experimental, heavy rock and more influences.  Their stories of Jack Straw, Brown-Eyed Women, Row Jimmy and Tennessee Jed bring land, place and character to life.   

“There’s no way to measure Jerry’s greatness or magnitude as a person or as a player. I don’t think any eulogizing will do him justice. He was that great, much more than a superb musician, with an uncanny ear and dexterity. He’s the very spirit personified of whatever is Muddy River country at its core and screams up into the spheres. He really had no equal. To me he wasn’t only a musician and friend, he was more like a big brother who taught and showed me more than he’ll ever know. There’s a lot of spaces and advances between The Carter Family, Buddy Holly and, say, Ornette Coleman, a lot of universes, but he filled them all without being a member of any school. His playing was moody, awesome, sophisticated, hypnotic and subtle. There’s no way to convey the loss. It just digs down really deep.” – Bob Dylan

“Hunter’s got a way with words and I do too.  We both write a different type of song than what passes today for songwriting.” – Bob Dylan

Hunter translated two volumes of Rilke poetry and wrote his own as well.  He “took word-working seriously wherever he found it.”*  His knowledge of literary and songwriting tradition was voluminous: he included Edith Sitwell’s Queen Chinee, Sugaree, the Doodah Man and Charlie Chan.  Hunter and Garcia wrote through the musical lineages that they loved and carried the listener into that past with them.

They’re writing songs about getting ‘busted down in New Orleans” (Truckin’), about girlfriends on the side (Loose Lucy), Love in the Afternoon, and aging’s Touch of Grey.  They’re sharing the stories of their lives: loss and redemption (Wharf Rat), disappointment, pain and grace.  

Ten years ago I walked this street
my dreams were riding tall
Tonight I would be thankful
Lord, for any dream at all

Some folks would be happy
just to have one dream come true
but everything you gather
is just more that you can lose.
– Mission in the Rain

In a song like “‘Days Between,’ Hunter was trying to talk to Jerry . . . Bob hoped Jerry would understand how torn he was.  Hunter was turning those moments into poetry.’”*  Sometimes they even seem to be gently helping each other face what they rather would not. 

Can't talk to you without talking to me
We're guilty of the same old things
Thinking a lot about less and less
And forgetting the love we bring.
– Althea

And then on a single day, each one separately found themselves with their grandest creation alive in their heads.  Watching a lightning storm across the San Francisco bay, Hunter begins with an invocation of the Muse:

Let my inspiration flow
In token rhyme suggesting rhythm

That will not forsake me
Till my tale is told and done

While the firelight's aglow
Strange shadows from the flames will grow
'till things we've never seen
Will seem familiar
. . .

Hunter calls to the creative goddess and she hears him, delivering him the words and even tapping his partner on the shoulder too!  At that very moment Garcia was driving across the Richmond-San Rafael bridge and heard the melody.  He turned around and went home to get it on tape.  The next day they met up and handed the song to each other.  “I showed him the words and he said, 'I've got the music.' They dovetailed perfectly and Terrapin edged into this dimension.”*

One of the most interesting facets of our world is the phenomenon of synchronicity–a term coined by psychologist C. G. Jung to refer to moments of symbolic expression in the coordination of worldly events; those times of meaningful interaction of inner state and outer activity.   The arrival of two halves of a piece of music to each of its authors simultaneously reflects a creative unity outside of time and space, a living shared field between them.   The emergence of Terrapin Station into the consciousness of Hunter and Garcia in a single moment reflects a quality of reality that our culture tends to overlook.  

We tend to associate mind with thinking and rationality, but it is the presence of real emotional bonds that are the foundation for shared psychic experiences like the one that gave birth to Terrapin.  Jung saw feeling as a quantitative measure of psychic energy—where there is feeling there is psychic weight—and that mass potentiates the field into which a synchronicity can then arrive.  Where there is a synchronicity there is emotion either conscious or unconscious, in a single person or shared by two people.

“Synchronistic phenomena occur for the most part in emotional situations; for instance, in cases of death, sickness, accident and so on. . . . We observe them relatively frequently at moments of heightened emotional activation, which need not however be conscious.” – C. G. Jung

Synchronicities or extended mind experiences emerge out of psychic fields weighted by real emotion.  Another expression of this would be shared dreams amongst couples or others.  We are indeed joined by our heartstrings and that union can sometimes bend events into being.

The inclusion of feeling in our understanding of synchronistic events points to a worldview not unlike the one the Chinese recognized and recorded in the Tao and the I Ching.   Those ancient observers of reality saw that our inner emotional state was connected to the events of the world and that inner changes could effect outer circumstances.  

So too does modern science reflect this view (but it doesn’t know it yet).  The work of Cambridge biologist Rupert Sheldrake echoes the observation that psyche is a field phenomenon, not something enclosed in our brain.  His excellent book, The Sense of Being Stared At, presents mountains of evidence for the understanding that consciousness extends beyond the body.  Scientifically controlled staring experiments have a regular success of 55% which is astronomically significant statistically but greater still are the success rate of those who know each other well, partners, family members and siblings.  Best of all, of course, are twins.  So the extension of consciousness is a scientific fact that our culture has yet to fully accept.  More mysterious and unaccepted still is the role that emotion plays in such fields.

Ken Kesey (middle) and Neal Cassady (Right) at the Acid Tests

Ken Kesey (middle) and Neal Cassady (Right) at the Acid Tests

The Grateful Dead was a music born of the field-experience.  It began at the 1966 Acid Tests–a cacophony of participative noise, art and dance fuelled by the then-legal LSD–hosted by their friends Ken Kesey and his Merry Pranksters.  Being attuned to a tripster’s sensitivities made them capable of being intimate with their audience for thirty years.  The space they created with their fans could be so quiet that you could hear a pin drop (the middle of Stella Blue) and at other times so ecstatic that Joseph Campbell called it the “antidote to the atom bomb.”  

Hunter and Garcia lived at the epicenter of a daily experiment in emotion-filled fields.  Their deep connection allowed Terrapin to be born unto them as it was.  That love, although it was one covered-over by a manly facade, was real and produced a sparkling rock anthem that spoke to that heart of who they were.

Terrapin tells the story of a Lady with a fan who throws it into the lion’s den requiring her suitors to regain it to receive her.  

Which of you to gain me, tell
Will risk uncertain pains of hell?
I will not forgive you
If you will not take the chance.


Is the Lady’s challenge met?  And, if so, has the hero made a worthy choice?  It is left up to the listener to decide if the victor was correct in his risk:

The storyteller makes no choice
Soon you will not hear his voice
His job is to shed light
And not to master.

220px-Grateful_Dead_-_Terrapin_Station.jpg

With a second invocation of the Muse, Hunter gives the song’s message:

Inspiration move me brightly
Light the song with sense and color
Hold away despair
More than this I will not ask

Faced with mysteries dark and vast 
statements just seem vain at last

Some rise
some fall
some climb
to get to Terrapin.

Asking only to be saved from inner darkness and be shown the road to meaning, Hunter confronts the vanity of larger conclusions.  Yet he cannot help but remark on the fact of the reality of healing and of growth–or individuation as Jung called it.   We do work out things and get to a better place, we may fail our way there or succeed into it, but either way our own little measure of real enlightenment is possible.  We do indeed become more whole.

“The greatest and most important problems of life are all in a certain sense insoluble…. They can never be solved, but only outgrown…. This ‘outgrowing’, as I formerly called it, on further experience was seen to consist in a new level of consciousness. Some higher or wider interest arose on the person’s horizon, and through this widening of view, the insoluble problem lost its urgency. It was not solved logically in its own terms, but faded out when confronted with a new and stronger life-tendency.” – C. G. Jung

Is this not also the purpose of synchronicity itself?  To enlarge our view of the world?  To open our eye to meaning and expand our faith and hope?  That sentiment is echoed in Hunter and Garcia’s own beat-infused Taoist road spirituality (inherited in part from their friendship with the real-life protagonist of Kerouac’s On The Road Neal Cassady). 

I had one of those flashes I'd been there before, been there before

Well, I ain't always right but I've never been wrong
Seldom turns out the way it does in a song
Once in a while you get shown the light
In the strangest of places if you look at it right.
Scarlet Begonias

The word ‘terrapin’ can be connected to the Greek word therapeuin; to attend to, to do service, to take care of.  Most assuredly Hunter and Garcia attended to each other and to making creative babies together.  They were there for each other, witness to each other’s life, in the most intimate and important ways.

I have spent my life
Seeking all that’s still unsung
Bent my ear to hear the tune
And closed my eyes to see
When there were no strings to play
You played to me.
 Attics of My Life

Like Lennon & McCartney, Hunter and Garcia’s creativity was the product of a deeply loving friendship, of eros, of two people who were deeply emotionally engaged with each other.  Not one to express his feelings much, Jerry told Hunter that he loved him a week before he passed.  But long before that, when they were at their peak and sharing the greatest intimate engagement in their lives – magic happened.

Hunter and Garcia were inducted into the Songwriters Hall of Fame in 2015.  Hunter is the only non-performer in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  Robert Hunter died September 23rd, 2019.

Let it be known there is a fountain
That was not made by the hands of men.
– Ripple



For more on Robert Hunter:

https://www.newyorker.com/culture/postscript/robert-hunter-gave-the-grateful-dead-its-voice

https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/music/story/2019-09-24/robert-hunter-grateful-dead-10-best-songs

https://www.pastemagazine.com/articles/2019/09/robert-hunter-obituary.html

https://religionnews.com/2019/09/26/robert-hunter-religion/


Jung and Sex by Dr. Ed Santana

We’re proud to have Dr. Ed Santana on the Jungian Online team:

"While glaringly obvious in our culture, sex and sexuality are still only dimly understood: it is everywhere visible, subject to moralism, studied by psychologists, used and abused in advertising, confusing to adolescents, frightening to some, suffered by many in symptomatic forms. But Edward Santana covers the ground – from struggles between culture and instinct to pharmaceuticals and technology – in this brilliant study of Jung’s work, contemporary psychological treatment, and the importance of recognizing sexual life as a deep, exquisite expression of the human soul." – Lyn Cowan, Ph.D., Jungian analyst

"This book should be required reading for any psychotherapist who treats people suffering from sexual difficulties. It will fill a void in the Jungian literature on sexuality. Dr. Santana's stress on the spiritual dimensions of sexuality is a necessary corrective to purely behavioral approaches." - Lionel Corbett, M.D., Jungian Analyst

"Edward Santana’s Jung and Sex effectively answers the question: what would a nineteenth century born psychologist have to contribute to the field of sexual studies and therapeutic treatment, especially in an era dominated by behaviorism and cognitive psychologies? Jung not only repositions human sexuality through the biological and social into the realm of the spiritual but affirms that a sexual problem can only be solved by love, that is, by an engagement with the meaning dimension. This book asks the reader to approach the mystery of sex with a willingness to submit to psyche, a Greek word which translates as Soul." - James Hollis, Ph.D., is a Jungian analyst in Washington, D.C., and author of numerous books, most recently, What Matters Most: Living a More Considered Life, and Hauntings: Dispelling the Ghosts Who Run Our Lives.

Order here: https://www.routledge.com/Jung-and-Sex-Re-visioning-the-treatment-of-sexual-issues/Santana/p/book/9781138919150

Five Ways Jung led us to the Inner Life

by

Gary S. Bobroff

 

Lying behind much of the way we talk about the inner life today is the work of the Swiss psychologist C. G. Jung. He revolutionized how we discuss dreams and archetypes and gave us our words “introvert,” “extravert” and “synchronicity.” However, what made him a true psychological pioneer was that he looked inside himself in a way that is still unique today.

#1) Dreams

From earliest beginnings of human civilization, we have considered dreams a doorway to the soul. Jung saw that they showed us parts of ourselves that were being rejected by our waking consciousness: strengths unexpressed and shadow figures run amok; qualities that we were missing about ourselves; and desires that we’d rather not acknowledge. The mission of dreams was to balance us, to compensate for our often one-sided attitude toward life and lead us to integrate what we need for health and growth. We know today that dreams can have messages for us that are not only psychologically relevant, but even biologically urgent, relaying information about illness. Jung introduced the term “wholeness” to describe the aim of the unconscious: the further filling out of ourselves; an increasing completeness in the unique being that we are.

#2) Personality Types

Jung saw the differing pathways in our personalities. He observed that some people got energy from interacting with people, while others were drained by it. Introvert or extravert, intuitive or sensate, thinking or feeling; he described these differing forms as Psychological Types and they led to today’s MBTI categories. In normalizing different kinds of personality, Jung helped us to get over our natural biases against other types.

While he recognized variety in human personality, Jung believed that there was no one-size-fits-all approach to therapy. He saw each individual as having a unique blueprint for growth, an untold inner story, and he knew – from his own experience – that one man’s medicine is another’s poison.

 “The shoe that fits one person pinches another; there is no recipe for living that suits all cases.” – C. G. Jung

#3) Archetypes

Jung also saw that the unconscious sometimes conveys information beyond the personal. He saw that the dreams of his patients sometimes echoed mythological motifs from far-flung foreign cultures. He saw the action of peoples’ lives following forms depicted in Greek tragedy. He discovered ancient, even timeless, pathways that energy flowed into: toward some things and away from others, attracted to some things, repulsed by others. This level of the psyche is beyond the personal and Jung called it the collective unconscious.

“I thought of Jung as a noetic archeologist, [he] provided maps of the unconscious.” – Terence McKenna

The collective unconscious shows us eternal, dynamic qualities in our nature: they are alive and timeless. One of these archetypes is our inner opposite sex figure and soul guide–what Jung called the Anima or Animus. We encounter it both in our dreams and when just the right person walks up to us and we fall in love at first sight. Even though we experience this figure through others, but it is ultimately up to us to integrate it for ourselves.

Once we’ve learned to recognize these archetypes, we see them throughout classic literature and film and even in modern sitcoms. However, we may not really discover them for ourselves until we’ve been battered and bruised and are wondering how we got into this mess (again). Usually we need a little help to gain sight of these figures in our own lives.

You don’t see something until you have the right metaphor to let you perceive it.” – Robert Stetson Shaw

#4) Synchronicity

Jung’s psychology is only really understood when it is a lived experience, and nothing exemplifies this more than the mystery of synchronicity. Jung coined the term synchronicity to refer to extraordinary moments when outer happenings reflect inner states. What we see in such a coincidence of events is a meaningful interplay alive in our reality. The notion that there’s a deeper principle actually operating in the world can be frightening to people from a culture that believes that it’s the only conscious force in the universe. Yet at the same time, discovering that there’s more going on can be experienced as a profound relief. In order to get through our resistance to such experiences, it helps to hear others’ stories and share our own (and you can do so here). Incorporating the meaning of these experiences for ourselves requires something authentic from us – a real inner change, the genuine achievement of a new attitude.

It is addressing life in the present that cleanses and heals a festering wound.  Jung never tired of saying this.  After the past is explored, additional inquiry into yesterday does not lead to further healing.  A change of attitude into the present does, and this change of attitude is exactly the business of a synchronicity.” – J. Gary Sparks, At The Heart of Matter

#5) Our Inner Life is Real

Tending to the unconscious, to dreams and to the inner voice are the acts that define Jungian psychology, but it’s not just the act that’s definitive, it’s the attitude. Jungian psychology recognizes that we’re more than just our ego and that there is more to the psyche than just the conscious mind. With this in mind, engagement with the inner voice is pursued not as a form of inner housekeeping, but rather in the humble service of the development of a relationship with an intelligence present within us but greater than our own. Committing to that service means relating more deeply to our inner nature; its only end-goal is the whole-bodied, whole-hearted, full blossoming of who we really are.

Mandala_Sommersonnenwende-1-300x300.png

Thank God I’m a Jungian: Reflections for Thanksgiving

By Jason E. Smith
 

Carl Jung was ambivalent about the idea of training institutes being established in his name. This ambivalence is amply reflected in a statement he is reported to have made in reference to this development. “Thank God I am Jung and not a Jungian,” he declared.

This is not a very comforting sentiment for someone like me who identifies as a Jungian, who trained at just such an institute, and who has dedicated most of his adult life to the study and practice of Jungian Analysis. 

How can I reconcile having taken on the title of Jungian Analyst when the great man himself was so disparaging of the idea?

In his attempt to cast some light on the phenomena of the psyche, Jung knew that he was investigating a great mystery, which he called “the densest darkness it is possible to imagine.” Presumably, his comment about the relative merits of being Jung vs. a Jungian point to his concern that his followers would become slavish imitators, forgoing the mystery and concretizing his concepts, effectively turning them into a kind of dogma.

Jung, it should be said, was also distrustful of groups and preferred to emphasize the importance of the individual. However, this distrust has the effect of thrusting all groups, including the family and the community, into the collective shadow. Jung’s statement also creates the possibility that the experience of being a Jungian becomes colored by a sense of inferiority.

Certainly, the danger of imitation is very real. When I started training as an analyst, I had a cherished image of Jung – one that, in many ways, I sought to emulate by trying to read what Jung read and seek out similar visionary experiences to those that Jung experienced. I even considered starting to smoke a pipe and wear tweed jackets with patches on the elbows, just like Jung. And I was certainly not the first, nor the only, person to succumb to this temptation.

In light of this danger, it seems to me, the real problem would not so much be in wanting to become a Jungian, but in wanting to be Jung. In light of this, I suggest a moratorium on this particular saying. For, while the statement may have been right for Jung to make for himself, for the rest of us it would be more correct to reverse it and to say: “Thank God I am a Jungian, and not Jung.” 

Read the rest here . . .

Shadows & Light: Understanding Our Archetypal Nature

by Gary S. Bobroff
 

“I thought of Jung as a noetic archeologist, [he] provided maps of the unconscious.” – Terence McKenna

Most of us imagine that we know ourselves pretty well.  But like a periscope that thinks it’s the whole submarine, our self-image makes no accommodation for the fact of the unconscious.  Yet there are maps that can help us.  If we are honest, we can come to discover how to orient ourselves in the tidal pathways of the unconscious; we may come to see that our shadows and strengths fall into archetypal patterns.  If we are lucky, these maps may help us to come into possession of the greatest possible treasure–our inner gold.

In the 1920’s, after they had finished developing their ideas on Psychological Type – the root of today Myers-Briggs Type Indicator™ – Antonia “Toni” Wolff and Carl Gustav Jung discovered that they felt like something was still missing.  Not fully satisfied, Toni soon identified larger psychological structures that were evident, yet hitherto unnamed.  Calling them Structural Forms of the Feminine Psyche, she initiated the process of identifying the primordial forms of the human psyche, forms which we know today by the singular term, archetype.

She observed two poles, two axes, in our internal world.  On the first, she saw displayed a natural split in how our energy flowed toward people: for some it moved toward people in a collective sense, toward the group, the family, the team, the tribe, society and the social group; for others it moved toward people in the one-on-one sense, with thought and concern primarily flowing toward individuals, friends and lovers. Toni saw this difference in what we were fascinated by and drawn to; what compelled us forward in life; in the differing pathways our libido took toward our fellow humankind.  In her observations, she brought consciousness to an inherent dialectic tension in human nature.

This characteristic tension is highlighted in bright psychedelic neon in the last fifty years of American history.  It is the divide between belonging and freedom from belonging; between a value system that is group-oriented and one that is individual-oriented; one emphasizes escape from society and other connection to it.  It has provided us with two opposing views of goodness in American life: the redemption in community of Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life versus the redemption in breaking away from community of Kerouac’s On The Road and Kesey’s Acid Test and Cuckoo’s Nest.  Of course, this split goes back to our earliest days: we can see it in our ancient mythologies and philosophies. It is evident in perhaps the greatest of Shakespeare’s plays, Hamlet, wherein ‘to be or not be’ also has a lot to do with ‘to belong or not to belong.’

Read the rest here . . .

Renewal of the Feminine

by Dr. KD Farris

Bahá'u'lláh, the founder of the Bahá'í Faith, saw peace as a dove whose right wing was the masculine and left wing was the feminine. "Without both wings," he said, "the dove of peace cannot fly."

In this way, the masculine and feminine are forever finding balance with each other, the kind of balance that allows for their flight because both sides move together in grace as they soar in a harmonious direction.

REVOLUTION BEFORE RENEWAL

As a consequence of the industrial revolution, knowledge birthed by the principles of the feminine fell farther and farther away from daily culture. Prior to mass-produced farming, food, home, and hearth, were the domains of the feminine guild, and through the feminine, the power of the masculine was held in balance; a partnership between the sexes was achieved. 

Having lost that which held the two wings of peace in place, the feminine archetype was marginalized as the masculine charged headlong into the creation of a new world. From this new world emerged technological advances, scientific discoveries, and aeronautic achievement. Welcome to the 20th century.

Read the rest here . . . 


Is Dream Analysis Really Useful?

by Jason E. Smith

 

At the beginning of the twentieth century, Sigmund Freud declared that dream analysis was the royal road to the unconscious. Over a hundred years later, despite extensive research into the process of sleep and dreams, as well as the experience of countless thousands of people who have been helped by engaging in the process of dream analysis, prejudice over the value of dreams in psychotherapy and in everyday life continues to persist.

It’s Only a Dream! 

In the scientific study of dreams, one of the qualities most often remarked upon that differentiates dream activity from other forms of mental activity is the bizarre and almost hallucinatory quality of the images that are often encountered during dreaming. The bizarreness of dreams, and our own tendency to accept the weird happenings in our dreams at face value, is what most distinguishes the dream experience from that of normal waking life.

It is just this peculiar quality, together with the uncanny nature of so many of our dream images, that makes it so hard for our waking minds to accept the dream as having meaning and value. 

As Carl Jung points out:

“The dream is often occupied with apparently very silly details, thus producing an impression of absurdity, or else it is on the surface so unintelligible as to leave us thoroughly bewildered.”

Read the rest here . . .

On Liminal Space

by Dr. KD Farris

ON LIMINAL SPACE

In 1906, anthropologist Arnold van Gennep writes about his cross-cultural observation of tribal rituals, which he calls rites de passage, noting that they consistently contain three distinct stages: separation, limen (liminality), and aggregation. In other words, they always have a beginning, middle, and an end. In the late 1960's and early 1970's, Victor Turner picks up van Gennep's work, expanding on these ideas and contributing language through which we can see our contemporary lives taking shape, mirroring these same archetypal structures.

In the tribal rituals that both van Gennep and Turner observe, the beginning stage is established by successfully separating the "initiates" from their known world so they may freely enter the middle stage of liminality. The middle stage, which is the longest lasting of the three, is the prime subject of this lecture series. This stage is orchestrated so as to prepare the initiates to take on their "new station in life," a concept which nowadays is barely known and rarely understood. The third and final stage serves to integrate the initiates back into society where they will then fulfill their new station. Traditional uses for these tribal rites of passage are to demarcate predictable life transitions such as birth, adolescence, marriage, pregnancy, and death. But many other transitions occur which are common yet unpredictable, and which carry the same need for preparation, support, and acknowledgment.

In contemporary life, our awareness of our own "first stage" is often a sudden and abrupt occurrence which serves to "rupture" our sense of being. These days, our culture lacks proper rituals to mark the time and space of these ruptures, their critical role, and subsequent changes. Consequently, we are often plunged into transitions of great magnitude without identification or ceremony. Rupture characterizes our descent into this disorienting terrain, while disorientation characters our experience as we enter and begin to move through it.

Read the rest here . . .