Henchwomen of the Conventional

from The Motherline by Naomi Ruth Lowinsky

Women who are out of touch with their Motherlines are lost souls, hungry ghosts inhabiting bodies they do not own, because for them the feminine ground is a foreign place. Often they suffer because their personal mothers or grandmothers are so negative, depressed, or uninspiring that they have no access through them to the Motherline.

In my psychotherapy practice I see many women who feel isolated, abandoned, and self-estranged. Many feel barred from access to their own true natures by a mother’s punitive attitude, neglect, or abuse. Some grandmothers provide a sanctuary for their granddaughters, a haven from the mother-daughter storms.

But some are not so helpful. There are negative grandmothers who bind and abuse their daughters’ souls. In turn the daughters bind and abuse their daughters’ souls. In turn the daughters bind and abuse their daughters. Often I sit with a woman and experience a telescopic experience of generations of pain.

Pennington & Staples on Righteousness & Guilt

Article by Nancy Carter Pennington and Lawrence H. Staples

Guilt’s necessary and important role in the creation and maintenance of consciousness is in itself a sufficient argument to demonstrate the absurdity of an exclusive pursuit of righteousness. Even if that weren’t the case, however, there would be ample reasons to be suspicious of a one-sided effort to be righteous.

The case for righteousness has many authors; the case for sin has few. Perhaps, that is how it should be. We can almost all agree that goodness is a good thing. It doesn’t take much persuasion to convince us that sensible conformity to the ethical and moral standards of the community, and attention to appropriate behavior and manners, not only contributes to one’s personal success but also to the success of the community. It also contributes to the avoidance of painful guilt; its opposite, non-conformity, produces guilt and threatens the attainment of success, as measured by fame, fortune, and other outer symbols of reward and recognition. When it comes to success, one can, at the least, argue that the appearance of goodness is usually extremely helpful.

It is likely that far fewer would openly assert that badness can also be good, both for the individual and society. Let us, therefore, try to correct this deficiency by taking the side of sin with all its ill repute. It seems that this rejected orphan deserves some respect along with acknowledgment of its valuable qualities too, if all God’s children are to be honored. We are, of course, speaking of sin in the broader definition noted earlier in this book.

The Art of Lament and Redemption: Lowinsky's Muse

Naomi Ruth Lowinsky, Ph.D

Lecture & Workshop

Self Portrait With Ghost: The Art of Lament and Redemption

Presented by Naomi Ruth Lowinsky and hosted by Jung Cleveland and Braden & Associates

Date: 5/17/13 - Download Registration Form
Time: 7 to 9 p.m.
Location:
First Unitarian Church of Cleveland
21600 Shaker Blvd.,
Shaker Heights, Ohio 44122

Lecture Description:

"Let us build the bond of community so that the living and the dead image will become one and the past will live on in the present…" — C.G. Jung

"Often I have such a great longing for myself. I know that the path ahead still stretches far; but in my best dreams I see the day when I shall stand and greet myself." — Rainer Maria Rilke

When you lose three children, your home and your country, how do you go on? If you are Emma Hoffman, a gifted painter in the impressionist tradition, you paint. Those paintings continue to speak of the redemptive power of art to Hoffman’s granddaughter, Naomi Ruth Lowinsky. Years ago, when she was in analytic training at the C.G. Jung Institute of San Francisco, Lowinsky had a dream in which she was told, "On your way to Jung’s house, you must first stop at your grandmother’s house and gather some of her paintings.” Lowinsky was the first child born in the New World to a family of German-Jewish refugees from the Shoah. She had a special tie with her only surviving grandparent, whom she knew as Oma. Oma taught her that making art can be a way to transmute grief and bear the unbearable.