Creative Chaos

by André Rabe

  One cannot conceive new meaning and remain the same shape. Rebekah’s pregnancy opens up a whole new complexity as she experiences turmoil within herself. To move out of the comfort of my familiar self can be difficult. “Why I? ” It is because of this newfound complexity of the other within the self, that she seeks God’s counsel.

  God, however, does not return her to a stable, centered, and simple state. Rather, God confirms her disunity!

  Two nations—in your womb,

  two peoples from your loins shall issue.

  People over people shall prevail,

  the elder, the younger’s slave

  - Genesis 25:23 RA

  Dr. Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, in her book The Murmuring Deep, comments on this text:

  God’s words to her communicate an elusive, ambiguous mirroring of her own disunity. In a sense, God is confirming her experience of fragmentation, separation. (“Two nations shall split off from your bowels …”) Her children, her interiority, are to be both alien, separate, absent—from each other and from her—and eternally present to her. Her life is forever bound up with them, her “I-ness” constituted by the interplay of conscious and unconscious aspects of experience. 1

  Much like Rebekah, each one of us is pregnant with otherness. There is more to me than the self I am certain of. Becoming aware of the complexity of conflicting voices may be uncomfortable, even unbearable, but it is exactly this discomfort that opens me up to greater understanding and fruitfulness.

  Human consciousness is not only a perspective of the world around us but is also uniquely turned in on itself. I do not only contemplate what I observe, but I also reflect upon my own significance. For in this pursuit of meaning, something truly mysterious happens - the very process of meaning-making comes into focus and becomes aware of itself. The mirror folds onto itself and an infinite complexity unfolds. Twins are born. They share a likeness, yet they are not identical but rather inverse and opposite in many ways. Both the conscious and the unconscious contribute to the stories we tell. It is exactly this complexity, these multiple voices, this other within the self, that gives the narratives we construct such richness.

  I realize that each reader might already have established ideas of what is meant by the conscious and the unconscious. These pre-existing concepts might be helpful, but they may also cloud what is communicated here. This is a vast subject and I hope not to bog you down with technicalities. Therefore, I have limited the scope of this chapter to how this relationship between the conscious and unconscious influences the way we tell our stories. Understanding the story-teller is essential for understanding the story. So I ask you to lay aside, for a moment, your pre-existing ideas of what these words mean and simply enjoy this text for what it says in its own right. Now let us explore the wonder of this meaning-making phenomenon - human consciousness.

  Non-Identical Twins

  There are many developmental stages in human consciousness, but one of the most fundamental is the process by which the conscious self emerges from the unconscious. Babies enter this world without being self-conscious - a pre-conscious stage. But soon after, self-consciousness begins to develop. To read the stories of Esau and Jacob as metaphors for the unconscious and the conscious can be illuminating. During a conversation with one of our online students 2 (and friend), this reading was suggested. I’ve been surprised at how fruitful this interpretation has been as I applied it to these characters.

  And the first one came out ruddy, like a hairy mantle all over, and they called his name Esau. Then his brother came out, his hand grasping Esau’s heel, and they called his name Jacob.

  - Genesis 25:25-26 RA

  The stories of Jacob and Esau are inseparably intertwined, each adding value to the other. Esau is the firstborn, in the same way as the unconscious comes into existence before the conscious self. Even at birth, his ruddy and hairy complexion hint at his wild, unrestrained and unrefined nature.

  Each one of us begins our existence in a pre-conscious state. The unconscious is the firstborn in this sense. But this does not mean that nothing intelligible is happening here. As mentioned earlier, the inner ear is formed even before the brain is completely formed. Messages are received, stimuli are perceived. Hints of meaning and unformed images abound, but no established framework of interpretation exists and so the unconscious remains wild. In this unrestrained space, messages take on a unique form. Without the constraints of sequential time or formal logic, the symbols formed here appear chaotic when viewed from the perspective of the conscious.

  It is essential to understand that despite what seems to be untamed chaos, is also a state of wholeness and peace. Prior to the emergence of a separate self, all is one. A pre-conscious baby does not distinguish yet between itself and the reality around it. Everything that happens and all that exists is part of a whole. This pre-conscious state is a kind of paradise of blissful union. There is no separation here, no lack and no desire, no good or evil. Everything simply is. These pre-conscious memories are preserved even after the emergence of the self.

  There is another very significant aspect of the unconscious. It is more than an individual psychological phenomenon - it is where the boundary between self and all else disappears; a point of contact with what lies beyond self. The unconscious enfolds a great depth. Some have glimpsed this depth and tried to better define it. Carl Jung spoke about the collective unconscious. This intuitive knowledge is not personal. In other words, it was not gained through the experience of an individual but, rather, is collective and gained through the experience of the species. Just as animals are born with instincts specific to their species, so humans inherit a pearl of intuitive wisdom. Layers of experience have accumulated through many generations to form a pattern of knowledge.

  But the unconscious is deeper still. It enfolds a depth beyond intuition, beyond even the collective human history. The Scriptures locate the unconscious as the space in which God often meets with us in surprising ways. The Bible is filled with stories about dreams - unconscious events - in which wisdom is given and meaning unveiled. There is no neatly defined boundary for the unconscious, and it might be this very lack of boundary that allows the divine to merge with our humanity.

  Esau is the firstborn and that implies a certain priority. The unconscious, formed first and given the inheritance of a collective wisdom, is a prior necessity for the conscious self to come into being.

  Grasping Esau’s Heel

  Jacob, the conscious, follows not far after, “his hand grasping Esau’s heel.” This gives us foresight and insight into the competitive, even rivalrous, way in which this relationship will develop.

  For the conscious-self to come into existence it must disrupt the peaceful wholeness of the unconscious. Its birth is an awakening; it is a fight against the sleepy unconscious; it is for Jacob to dispute the priority of Esau. The early moments of conscious awakening are quickly overcome by weariness. Babies love their sleep. The seduction of this restful bliss cannot be resisted. For the conscious to succumb to its lure is to lose control, to sleep, to disappear, to trust that ‘I’ will be brought into existence again by something else I do not know.

  And so the emergence of the conscious is a conflict that disrupts the tranquility of paradise and greatly impacts what and who we are. This disruption transforms the unconscious. Intuitions and memories of union are now contrasted with experiences of separation. And so the unconscious continues to develop beyond its pre-conscious origin. The awakening of the conscious is a type of trauma. Neither the unconscious nor the newly formed conscious is fully prepared for this new phenomenon. The initial stages of this separation are filled with confusion and conflict. At different ages, this conflict takes on different forms.

  And the Lads Grew Up

  And the lads grew up …

  - Genesis 25:27 RA

  The unconscious is not only operative when we sleep, and neither is the relationship between these two parts only rivalrous. There is also the mundane,
day-to-day co-existence of the brothers Esau and Jacob as they grow up together. Both are part of one family, yet they experience, interpret and remember their life events differently. Isn’t it amazing how members of the same family can be so different? Some psychologists describe the unconscious and the conscious as two systems. 3 The messages we receive through the experiences we have are inscribed twice - once on each of these systems. But these systems operate by fundamentally different rules and, consequently, the way each system interprets messages and generates meaning is not identical. This double inscription creates a matrix of meaning.

  Have you ever focussed on solving a problem for an extended period of time with no solution in sight? But then, while not giving it any conscious attention and busying yourself with something completely different, the solution suddenly presents itself. A thought process obviously continued without your conscious awareness.

  The following example demonstrates that memories are inscribed and recalled differently from the unconscious than from the conscious: This morning I was writing down some memories of when Mary-Anne and I first met. I recalled several events and how our relationship developed. Some of the details from decades ago have faded, but others were still clear. Suddenly I was swept into a different world. Something happened that was more than a calculated recollection - a memory was triggered on a completely different level and I was transported back into a moment that occurred more than 30 years ago. The whole event, the emotions, the feelings, and every detail were vividly experienced again as if no time had passed. This timeless dimension is a typical characteristic of the unconscious. Maybe ‘timeless’ is not the best description. It seemed as if no time passed and every relationship within that moment was recreated. The order of an irreversible time was suspended, for time does not work the same in the unconscious as in the conscious mind. Even if I tried to consciously preserve such an experience, I would not be able to recollect it with such clarity or immediacy. The event was inscribed and recalled from a different dimension than the conscious way in which we remember and the whole process happened involuntarily.

  Let me give one more example to show that the unconscious can express itself physically: We live in the beautiful coastal town of Hermanus. One of our favorite habits is to swim in the marine tidal pool. One sunny day, when Mary-Anne and I began swimming our laps, I had trouble with the rhythm of my breathing. As usual, I took a breath, then took a couple of strokes and attempted to breathe out while my head was underwater before coming up for another breath. But for some reason, I could not breathe out underwater. Stopping, I made sure my sinuses were clear and tried again. No. I could not release my breath underwater and experienced a sense of anxiety. As I sat down on one of the rocks and contemplated what just happened, a memory flashed back from when I was a 5-year old. While growing up with two older brothers, there was a stage when they were allowed to swim in the big pool, but I was restricted to the baby splash pool because I did not know how to swim yet. One day, when my two brothers were off to school and my mom was distracted, I slipped out and headed for the big pool. I jumped in and quickly reached the bottom. This is where the memory began. I kicked the bottom to reach the top again and gasped for air. The next descent down was slower, for this time I did not have the momentum of jumping in. My toes barely reached the bottom and consequently I could not kick hard enough to reach the top again. The clarity of this memory was amazing. The pool stairs were not too far from me and I wondered how I could reach them. Thankfully, at that very moment, someone reached into the pool and pulled me out. A teenager living in the same housing complex saw me from his window and ran to help.

  This event, which I had not thought of for decades, suddenly affected me physically. The unresolved fear of that moment was manifesting in my body. When submerged in the water I held onto every breath for dear life. As I realized what caused this, I sat back and spoke to myself: “You are not drowning. You know how to swim. Be at peace.” I took a few deep breaths, swam to the bottom of the pool and sat down holding a big rock to keep me down. I turned my focus inward and just allowed the calm and peace to be my awareness. After half a minute I breathed out and remained underwater for another half a minute. Jacob and Esau were conversing and solving this problem together.

  If memory is compared to a painting, our conscious memories are painted over unconscious memories. If our lives are compared to stories, then our conscious story is written over the text of the unconscious. Or if we use again the analogy of music, remembering the illustration of the piano recital, then the unconscious can be likened to a different instrument. Let’s add an upright bass to this analogy. It’s an instrument that requires a different skill set to play, produces a unique sound, and has its own musical score. It is possible that the piano and bass play two different songs and in so doing they would frustrate each other and the beauty of neither is heard. But if they could harmonize, each giving the other space and opportunity, the result would be a much richer sound. Jacob’s story is never complete by itself. There is always the background story of Esau, drifting in and out of focus. Esau seldom speaks up, but he is always around. This other dimension, this primal unformed language, this alternative interpretation, creates an environment in which meaning can be enriched. What we think, say, and how we act is never as simple as it might seem.

  What we say is spoken over the unconscious narrative. Our words contain more meaning than what we intend. We are never completely in control of what we mean. What we experience has depth beyond our immediate conscious awareness. This does not mean that we are enslaved to a system over which we have no control. In itself, this reality is neither good nor evil. It has the potential to be destructive or beneficial. But recognizing the complexity of this internal relationship is essential in the development of a more beneficial and harmonious co-existence.

  This understanding can greatly enrich the way we read and interpret Scripture as well. Below the text is another text. The narrative is multi-dimensional. It requires interpretation and conversation. When we fail to recognize the other less obvious voice, when we ignore what may be implied and impose a singular meaning onto the text, we suppress the very life and conversation that the text invites us into. And such suppression leads to disharmony and even animosity. Yes, there might be comfort in having a clear and simple message, but such comfort is soon exposed as shallow - a monotone noise. For in the process of imposing a singular meaning, we exhaust the text of its meaning. Certainty strangles possibility. The living conversation dies as the text becomes ever more monotonous and its meaning predictable.

  Birthright and Priority

  And the lads grew up, and Esau was a man skilled in hunting, a man of the field, and Jacob was a simple man, a dweller in tents. And Isaac loved Esau for the game that he brought him, but Rebekah loved Jacob. And Jacob prepared a stew and Esau came from the field, and he was famished. And Esau said to Jacob, “Let me gulp down some of this red red stuff, for I am famished.” Therefore is his name called Edom. And Jacob said, “Sell now your birthright to me.” And Esau said, “Look, I am at the point of death, so why do I need a birthright?” And Jacob said, “Swear to me now,” and he swore to him, and he sold his birthright to Jacob. Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and he drank and he rose and he went off, and Esau spurned the birthright.

  - Genesis 25:27-34 RA

  As they grow up, it becomes clear that Jacob is the more refined, civilized and simple. He controls his environment and dwells in structures that he himself has erected. Esau, in contrast, remains naturally at home within the wild, amongst the animals. The skill of hunting is, to a large extent, the skill of being present and grounded in the immediate environment. The hunt involves danger; it is a life or death situation for both the hunted and the hunter. Situations of danger have a way of making us more present to the moment. The unconscious is this primal hunter, naturally at home within this immediate chaotic danger.

  It also becomes evident that Jacob is t
he more calculated of the two. He is in search of identity and more keenly aware of the future and, consequently, of the birthright inheritance that belongs to Esau. Esau, on the other hand, is unrestrained, impulsive, and not so obsessed by questions of identity and the future.

  Remember the context: we are exploring what it means to be human and the uniqueness of consciousness. Esau and Jacob represent two aspects of our consciousness. And within the story above, Jacob desires the birthright and Esau desires the food that was prepared - the immediate gratification of his hunger. Desire is a major and unique theme in the development of human consciousness. Both Jacob and Esau are driven by desire. They are not identical desires and often need to be negotiated. And so the conflict for priority intensifies. Jacob has ambitions that drive him to attain what belongs to Esau. For the conscious to come into its full potential, it needs to assert itself to the extent of suppressing the unconscious. There is a period in which the child is happy to live somewhere between the two worlds of the imaginative and the reasonable, between the intuitive and the calculated. But a stage comes when a clear priority is chosen. Jacob must have priority. This is a necessary and natural evolution, for if imagination is not tamed by reason it will become ever more delusional.

  In Robert Kegan’s book, The Evolving Self , 4 he identifies the pursuit of meaning as the driving force behind personal transformation. I agree, but I want to draw attention to what energizes this process. How could there be a pursuit of meaning if there is not first a desire for meaning? So desire can be identified as the most fundamental force at the center of what makes the development of human consciousness possible.