When my husband and I were in the tiny town of Ubud, Bali in Indonesia I was invited to join a Nada Yoga class, in which I had one of the most powerful self visualizations. Nada in Sanskrit means “sound” and the practice of Nada yoga is the exploration of consciousness through the vehicle of sound. Our class was co-ed and consisted of twenty people. We closed the session by sitting knee to knee, in a large circle, with our instructions to bellow into the center of our ring. We could sound out what ever we wanted: a song, mantra, word or even just a plain sound like ahhh. There were only two rules: you had to commit to your choice for the full ten minutes and let it be audible.
I consciously chose “ahhhh” because it is considered to be the sacred sound of creation. At first, I wondered if I could sustain my outcry, but as the minutes wore on and I howled “ahh!” beside my new kindred spirits, my volume intensified. I found the power, the fuel, deep within my gut. An energy was unharnessed and it flared right up and out of my mouth. My inner being had been awoken. While the sound of my voice boomed in my years and added to the cacophony, I had a vision. I saw myself standing before a large fire, naked. I unzipped my skin, carefully pulled it off limb by limb and uncased my inner being. Mindfully, I folded the skin suit into a neat pile, carried it over to the fire and tossed it in and surrendered years of identities.
When the sound circle closed, I felt raw, not just in my throat, but emotionally. I felt powerfully freed. When I opened my eyes and looked about the room, it felt and looked like we all had just arrived back from some far off place.
The skin suit cremated within my vision represented many roles I had worn. The choir singer, the dancer, the actress, the event coordinator - it all went into the fire. We adopt roles in order to adapt in life, ultimately with the hope of being accepted by our peers. Whether it be a job, relationship, hobby or even the way one socializes, we assort ourself into a role and create an “external wardrobe” in which we become identified by our cohorts. Sometimes, we try on roles like suits to see what fits us and if they are genuine expressions of ourselves. The ones that are sensible and safe, or highly rewarded, will likely be worn for a long time.
Roles give us a sense of purpose. Due to their sentimental value, we tend to be store them like old suits tucked in the back of a closet. Like old clothes, they need to be removed - released - from time to time because we evolve. When we consciously recognize and release outdated identities of ourself, we free ourself to steep deeper into our current form of expression.
Identifying our archetypes, both past and present, can provide deeper insight into who we fully are. Most roles that we embody are an archetype. A monk, mother and model are all forms of archetypes, just as Disney or Marvel characters are. An archetype can be a statement, pattern of behavior, prototype, or a main model that other statements, patterns of behavior, and objects copy, emulate, or "merge" into. Just as helpful as it is to pull out that dusty jacket you no longer wear, it is invaluable to seek out archetypes you no longer are. And, let them go.
When I identify an archetype that no longer servers me, I offer up gratitude for the “super suit” provided me along my journey, through the lesson(s) and ultimately the self-realization gifted to me and then let it go. This process is not done in haste, but with honor. In reflection, I found my archetypes shared a common thread: the value of connection and community. It affirmed that I thrive on connection and community and innately, cultivate them.
Clinging to a past role/identity is usually out of fear. Fear, that if we let go, we will loose the power associated with that archetype. One of my recently released identities was that of The Runner. It held a sense of youth, companionship and connection to the outdoors. Once I realized it and understood the visceral layer it held for me, I let it go and I felt freer to embrace The Walker. When we identify the emotional value in the archetype, we can then see our personal power and how, through the identity, it was actually externalized; the belief the ability was outside of yourself. In truth, all those qualities were and are innate to You.
It is essential for everyone to recognize the death of an archetype and to release it as need be, as you move from one stage to another in your journey of life. As we move into a new calendar year, I encourage you to take stock of the various archetypes you have held onto; the ones that no longer serve you. Take time to recognize what each role says about you; no doubt there is a commonality among them that will highlight your innate abilities and qualities. Then, in your way, recognize and release the ones that no longer serve you. For the new year, release and surrender your outdated archetypes and unneeded layers to free You to Be You. Shed old skin so the “new you” can feel the sunlight and be free to live a new chapter.