Cultic Studies Review, Vol. 9, No. 1, 2010, Page 98
It is not hard to imagine that Beethoven feared a change in perception of his identity, thus
triggering both embarrassment and shame, and causing his increasing isolation. Yet even if
this was an accurate reading of what the outside world would think, Beethoven was not prey
to what Lifton called an ―assault upon identity‖ (Lifton, 1989, p. 67), since the assault did
not come from an outside attempt to break down his identity, to remake him into someone
else. In contrast to Beethoven, Messiaen experienced a group imprisonment, controlled by
an external totalitarian mentality. He was detained, even subjected to awful conditions, but
not sent to a concentration camp, and not forced to think in one particular way. As
distinguished from cult involvement, mind control was not an overt method of control in
Messiaen‘s experience. Some of the German soldiers that imprisoned him were themselves
products of a classical education that valued music. They let him compose late at night in
the latrine, and even helped to organize the performance of the Quartet. Even that degree
of lenience is foreign to most typical cult experience. Further, both Messiaen and Beethoven
had established an intimate and trusted relationship to psyche and to their own creativity by
the time each was incarcerated. Though they spent their lives ―seeking,‖ they had by this
point in their lives located enough self-identity to be able to use that knowledge as
resource, even to sound its depths, during their imprisonment. This pre-established
connection is often not the case for cult members. When it is, it might serve them as it did
these composers, perhaps to help protect a sense of integrity while in a cult, or to support a
recovery process.
We have considered the yearning for expansiveness and the need for containment. In
addition, I contend that true creativity can only come through a connection to one‘s deep
self and the singularity and uniqueness that lie in wait there. That journey to one‘s unique
self is a journey through psyche, outside of ego. It requires withstanding the discomfort of
not knowing. Only then is one open to the expansiveness of the never-before-encountered.
This is especially uncomfortable territory for cults and cult leaders, where the rules and
parameters are specifically designed around knowing—the ―truth,‖ the language, the ―right
way.‖ In cults, containment has been achieved, but at the expense of expansiveness.
If we are in contact with psyche, and are able to resist being encapsulated in ego‘s
exclusionary and rigidifying energy, we are able to recognize that nothing, including cult
involvement, is black and white. I have written in broad terms, perhaps leaving out the
nuances of individual experience. Surely exploring one‘s beliefs, living collectively, meeting
a life partner are all creative acts that might take place within a cult. But when they happen
in a cult, they are experienced within the retainer of rigid domination, rather than in the
container of psyche. Only when one sets one‘s own limits, discovers and struggles with the
fear of psyche‘s limitlessness, is one on one‘s own path. That path, with its nonlinear twists
and turns, is the progressive pull of the psychic process to become the most one can be.
Stepping onto that path is, I believe, the only way to enter fully into one‘s creative life. And
yet, it is very difficult, in our present hyper-rational and logical culture, to develop an
intimate relationship to psyche. There is a constant pull toward causal, directed thinking
that precludes the freedom to explore the unknown, and perchance to stumble upon a
creative spark. Cult members are seekers, caught in the constraints of contemporary
Western culture, attempting to right the imbalance in themselves and in the world.
Unfortunately, the cults themselves are products of that same imbalance. If as a culture we
are able to break down some of the walls that surround ego and open a pathway to psyche,
I imagine there might be less ―need‖ for cults within our society.
Endnotes
i Ego—In Jungian usage, ego developed out of the inchoate into the rational and subjective.
Its historical trajectory suggests the history of Western culture itself. During the 3,000-plus
years of the patriarchal era, we have increasingly privileged the rational, the causal, the
linear over all else. We have chosen to define ourselves by those attributes, and to eschew
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