At the age of 35 I had a wonderful family, good health, a comfortable lifestyle, and a master’s degree: everything a woman could want. Right? You’d think so. But I felt painfully unfulfilled. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just be happy? I felt like an ungrateful wretch.
One day as I was listening to Kris Kristofferson’s album, “Jesus Was A Capricorn,” tears started rolling down my cheeks. With some surprise, I realized there must be a reason I was crying. What could it be? Suddenly I was hungry to understand, so over the next few months I listened carefully to these soulful songs. Somehow it seemed as if practically every one was written for me.
“Jesus Was a Capricorn” describes the intolerance people have for what they don’t understand. What struck me was that despite the rejection the writer had faced, he had the strength to be true to himself anyway. Why did that make me cry? Shame. I knew I didn’t have that kind of strength.
“Sugar Man” is about a woman who sells her soul to a pimp so she can buy drugs to escape her pain. Had I been ignoring some secret pain? If so, what was it? And why was I afraid to face it?
“Jesse Younger” is the story of a man who loses the love and support of his family when he makes choices that seem wrong to them even though they are right for him. This brought a huge “Aha!” I had talents and interests I longed to pursue but hadn’t — partly out of a sort of foggy lethargy, and partly because of deeply ingrained stereotypes about women’s roles. To change my habit of always putting my family’s comfort before my own seemed selfish, dangerous, daunting and wrong. I was experiencing a classic conflict between my need to find and fulfill myself and my fear of hurting my loved ones, inviting censure, and leaving a safe and familiar cocoon.
“Help Me” is a cry for help from someone who has given up trying to struggle all alone through the darkness. It is a recognition that repressing, escaping and pretending lead to dead ends, a confession of the ego’s limitations, and a painful plea for consciousness. My tears told me I was tired of living in the prison of conformity and needed help to break out.
“Why Me” expresses repentance for wasted life, gratitude for the gift of another chance, and the desire to help others who undergo the same struggles. I had always believed I had something valuable to give. Had my fears caused me to waste the best parts of myself? Was there still a chance for me? Would it be possible to make some original choices without destroying everything to which I had devoted the first half of my life? These were my thoughts and feelings, and they were so terribly beautiful and dreadfully sad. No wonder I cried.
Midlife can be a dangerous and decisive crossroads. Jung said the ego’s task at this time is to turn within and attend to the compelling reality of the Sacred Self. While some recognize the wake-up call, many misinterpret it. Luckily, the universe sent me a minstrel guide to help me through. Kris Kristofferson’s songs were a lifeline that awakened my ego to the melodies of my own soul and emboldened me to follow them. Choosing this path has made all the difference in my life and I will be forever grateful.
I just heard the news this evening. Yesterday, September 28, 2024, my minstrel guide passed into the next world. This world is poorer for his loss, but richer for him having spent his time here sharing his wise, tender, and courageous soul with us. I am deeply sad, but profoundly grateful that I’ll always have his music and this picture to remind me that once our paths crossed and I had the opportunity to learn from and thank a remarkable man and soul guide for making a difference in my life.
Bon Voyage, Kris Kristofferson. And thank you.
Jean Raffa’s The Bridge to Wholeness and Dream Theatres of the Soul are at Amazon. Healing the Sacred Divide can be found at Amazon and Larson Publications, Inc. Jean’s new Nautilus Award-winning The Soul’s Twins, is at Amazon and Schiffer’s Red Feather Mind, Body, Spirit. Subscribe to her newsletter at www.jeanbenedictraffa.com.
19 Responses
It is amazing what a little Kris can do for the soul! Was at Luckenbach this past week-end and thought of you and kris too! Ann
Dearest Ann, You’re so right! Kris is to the soul as cool water is to a parched throat. I’ll be wearing my Luckenbach T-shirt today in honor of two of my favorite mentors: you and Kris! Love, Jeanie
Dear Jean, What a beautiful post! You have written this in a way that any person could understand-without being a Jungian scholar! I will be forwarding this to many.
Thanks for your work!
Ruth Martin
Dear Ruth,
Thank you so much for stopping by and taking the time to write your kind comment. I’m so pleased and grateful to know that you find this post readable and relevant enough to forward to others.
Blessings on this fine spring day (here in Orlando, at least!)
Jeanie
“Who do you have to thank for mentoring you on the journey to your Self?” Inevitably Jung, but Marion Woodman, James Hillman, Robert Bly, and Caroline Myss as well.
Reading you blog entry above I can’t help but notice how big of a presence “grief” has in Kristofferson’s songs. I find that there is inevitably a fair amount of grieving associated with midlife. Tears help to wash away the soot that covers the soul and helps us to “attend to the compelling reality of the Sacred Self.”
Thank you Jean, for all you’ve shared with this blog entry…..
Hi Jamie,
It’s a pleasure to meet a fellow Jungian! I too have learned from the mentors you mention. I also owe many valuable insights to Robert Johnson and John Sanford.
Huge “Aha” about the thread of grief in Kristofferson’s songs and midlife. And I love your imagery of tears washing away the soul’s soot. Another metaphor that comes to mind is that tears are evidence that we are tapping into a deeper well of our reality: an underground pool of our bottled up authenticity to which all the juiciness of our lives progressively retreated as we served ego and persona during the first half of life. So grief over our losses — of meaning, of youthful innocence, of feeling, of connection with our true selves, of unmet expectations and unfulfilled dreams, etc. — taps into that well, enabling feeling and creativity to spring forth, thus refreshing the soul.
Thanks so much for the wise and thought-provoking comment.
Blessings,
Jeanie
I discovered Sanford right after Jung in the early 80s with “Invisible Partners.” Love your response and the territory you approach with it. I didn’t get notice of your response by email…still getting the hang of social media and how it all comes together. Again, I appreciate this blog and your Twitter contributions….
Hi Jamie,
I didn’t discover Sanford or Jung until 1989. My first Sanford was “The Kingdom Within.” Second was “Dreams, God’s Forgotten Language.”
Sorry you didn’t get notice of my response. I think the way to get notified of comments might be to click on “rss comments” in the fifth green box down from my picture in the upper right corner of my home page. If that doesn’t work, you might contact WordPress and ask them how. Let me know if it works, as others have had the same problem.
Thanks for the appreciation. Feels good!
Jeanie
This is so beautiful, Jeannie, and I feel a lot of what you’re saying. My mom was my most inspiring person in my life, and she died when Brian was 3 months old…I’ve forged my way since then…
Donna
And done an extraordinary job of it! Thank you, Donna. You are one whose understanding heart and deep connection with feminine feeling has served you in the best possible ways! It is so sad when those who inspire us most never know of their impact on us. But we can pass the inspiration on by the way we live as a result of their positive influence.
Much love,
Jeanie
Brilliant, Jeanie. While midlife has long passed, this reminds me of an experience I had about two years ago. I was at the Irish Repertory Theatre in New York viewing Brian Friel’s play “Dancing at Lughnasa” when I had a equally powerful experience. At the end of the play the narrator moved to the front of the stage, the lights dimmed and the actors, standing about ten feet behind him, began to slowly sway to faint music. The narrator said, “When I cast my imagination back to the summer of ’36” and at that precise moment I knew my life had changed. That might sound ridiculous but I was sitting with a friend and I voiced my feelings without hesitation. In that moment so much of where my life had been, where it was going became very clear to me. It was a moment when I really understood the “journey,” when the journey was transformed from an intellectual concept to a real and highly visceral experience. I’d bore everyone to tears with the entire story but the long and short of it is I clearly heard the “wake-up” call and I no longer was, as you say, a prisoner of conformity.
Wonderful story, Jeanie.
Charlie
Thank you for dropping by and sharing your story, Charlie. It’s great to hear from you.
It’s very difficult to explain these experiences of “knowing” and “awakening” to others; maybe because it’s a completely internal, personal thing having to do with our own unique psychic energy: where it’s been, where it wants to go, when it gets released, etc. “Something” in you shifts, and suddenly you understand something you never did before. You weren’t expecting it and don’t know how to make it happen again. But it’s very real. I think of it as an inrush of meaning. In religious terms, events like this are sometimes attributed to the Holy Spirit or the Sacred Feminine. But it doesn’t matter what you call it. What matters is that you hear this inner guidance and take it seriously as a message for you about what’s important to your soul. And as you note, midlife is not the only time things like this happen. It can be a lifelong thing….
It’s been a pleasure to see you following your inner guidance over the past few years and to know that the changes in you have been such a rich gift to so many others!
Jeanie
Dear Jeanie,
I know I’ve arrived many years late to this post but felt moved to let you know this is beautiful and brilliant, thank you so much for sharing it! I love how you unpack several songs from the album “Jesus Was a Capricorn”, intuiting that many songs were written especially for you. I think when an artist taps into the collective unconscious, like all great artists do, a sense of the familiar and universal is often felt.
My favourite Kris Kristofferson song will always be the iconic, “Help Me Make It Through the Night”, which is loved and adored by millions of fans and many musicians too who covered it including: Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Tammy Wynette, Glen Campbell, Loretta Lynn, Joan Baez, Jerry Lee Lewis, Tina Turner, Willie Nelson, Mariah Carey, Olivia Newton-John, Engelbert Humperdinck and plenty more!
Aww, what treasure your photo must be! I’m guessing that you met Kris in person at some magickal moment in your life. No doubt you’ll be spinning some vinyl and listening to his beautiful and brilliant voice again. Your souls, it seems, were made for each other!
Love and light, Deborah
Dear Deborah,
Yes, I originally wrote this post in 2011, only a year after I started my blog. I reposted it in 2013. It seemed appropriate to share it one more time in memoriam. I think the first song I ever heard by him must also have been “Help Me Make it Through the Night.” That one resonated deeply. You’re absolutely right. I’ve never thought of the reason for his strong appeal before, but, of course. His music taps into the collective unconscious of a culture that celebrates the surfaces and his music was such a refreshing change: it offered a doorway into the depths.
Fred took this picture of us shortly after I published this post in 2011. We attended several of his live concerts in smallish venues around Central Florida and this was after one held here in Orlando. I had copied this post and brought it with me, hoping to give it to him at some point. I wanted him to know his music had made a difference in someone’s life. So we waited outside by his bus with several other fans. I handed it to him over the fence and told him what it was and he leaned over and gave me a hug and a kiss on my cheek. Fred took this picture right after that. What a sweet, kind man he was. A kindred soul for sure. I have a mix of my favorite songs on my cell phone and listened to his last night through my AirPods. His songs never fail to move me. I guess they always will.
Love and light ‘back atcha’, as he used to say. Jeanie
Thank you for such a rich reply Jeanie! I’m so pleased that you discovered that ‘doorway into the depths’. The rest is history (or herstory!). What a legacy, what a gift to the world
Oops, posted before I’d finished typing! What a legacy, what a gift to the world, in different ways, you both are! x
I’m so grateful that I discovered that ‘doorway into the depths” too, Deborah. Music has always been a direct channel to them anyway, but when poetry written by someone I greatly admire is accompanied by music, it just satisfies my soul in a way that’s difficult to put into words. I guess it just “Feels Like Home” to me, to quote the title and lyrics of one of my favorite songs ever, this one written by Randy Newman. I’m deeply humbled that you would mention the gift of my legacy to the world in conjunction with Kris Kristofferson’s. Thank you, dear soul sister.
A beautiful and thoughtful essay about Kris Kristofferson’s effect on your life choice to persue your true self. Not many people do that!
Thank you, Donna. It’s not an easy thing to do. It feels like everything and everyone around you is afraid of you stepping out of the safety of conformity and onto an individual path of your own. That’s not really true though. In fact if you dare to try it, it eventually feels like the universe is helping you every step of the way. But for a long time, it feels like the opposite, and you can make many mistakes before you get it halfway right. 🙂