need. Psyche listened to the green reed and acquired what she needed through observation, patience, and timing. She learned that she didn't have to butt heads. Assertiveness often is necessary, especially in hospital settings and large institutions. And, as Psyche learned, timing and patience plus assertiveness often are more effective than head-on confrontations. Mastery of this task is the antidote for women who prior to a serious illness were always accommodating. To know what is needed and seek it requires a strand of masculine assertiveness. This is how cancer can become a cure for codependency.
The third task was to “fill a crystal flask with water.” The water to be obtained emerged from a spring in the highest crag of a huge mountain. It flowed down a deeply etched channel guarded by snake-like dragons on each side and descended into the rivers of the underworld to come up from the depths through the spring. It was a mythic, unending, ever-flowing, ever-returning, eternal stream— the river of life, source of vitality and meaning, that rises from and returns to the unconscious. The task was to contain a small portion of it in a fragile and empty vessel, which each individual ego must do. Physical resistance to illness is often low at a low point in life. People seem to come down with illnesses from colds to cancer during phases when they feel most fragile and empty. In the myth, an eagle accomplishes the task for Psyche. An eagle soars above the landscape, a symbol of the ability to see the big picture that some-one wallowing in her own small miseries does not. When the possibility of death or disability brings a new, wider perspective, and we find we are filled with emotions and a strong will to live, then the symbolic eagle has come to our aid. Just as an eagle does not hesitate to plunge out of the sky to grasp what it seeks in its talons, accomplishing this third task not only puts us in touch with what we feel or need, but it also empowers us to go for it.
The Need to Say, No!
Psyche's final task required that she descend into the underworld herself and return. Thinking that the only way to the underworld was through her death, she climbed to the top of a tall tower with the intention of throwing herself off of it, when the tower spoke to her and gave her advice on how she could go to the underworld and return. She was to carry a cake in each hand for Cerberus, the three-headed, terrible hound: one to give him to let her pass through the gates into the realm of Hades, the other to give him when she left. She was to bring two coins for Charon the ferryman: one coin was the fare to take her across the river Styx, and the other would be needed for the return trip. This was what could be called standard mythological travel-agent advice. What was specific and told only to Psyche was that she would be asked for help that she must not give. Instead, she must harden her heart to pity, say no, and go on.
Three times, she heard pleas to help: a lame old man with a lame donkey asked her to pick up a few twigs that had dropped from the donkey's load; then a dead man who lacked a coin for the ferryman and was floating in the river Styx raised his hands for her to grasp, beseeching her to help him cross; and finally, three dim-sighted old women asked her to stop and help them with their weaving. Three times, she was tested by the needs of others that seemed to ask so little of her. It is easy to imagine that she felt pulled toward helping, but each time she heeded the advice she was given, hardened her heart to pity, said no, and walked on.
Had she stopped to lend a hand, she would have had to let go of whatever she carried in that hand. Though a cake or a coin may seem a small thing to lose, missing either one of them meant that she would never again see the light of day. For without that second cake, she could not placate the terrible three-headed dog and could not leave the underworld. Missing one coin would strand her there. If she had been unable to say no, she would have lost what she needed to make the journey and return.
When we are seriously ill or recovering from surgery, radiation, chemotherapy, or any life-threatening or health-threatening condition, we are on Psyche's journey. If we are accompanying someone we love through the underworld, we will need all the resources we have for both of us. The need to conserve our strength, to not extend ourselves at such times, is advice we need to heed. The Psyche myth may make the point in a deeper way than a rational explanation, especially when—as is often the case—people who drain and deplete us have held us in the relationship through guilt and the assumption that we are responsible for them.
When we are going through an underworld phase, there is the possibility that we will not return if we do not hold on to what we need. When this part of the Psyche myth strikes a chord, we know that the difference between making our way back to physical, psychological, or spiritual health may hinge upon very little. Like Psyche, we may be asked to do something that seems on the surface a small expenditure of time and energy, and we may be drawn to help out of compassion and because we feel mean-spirited and selfish (guilty) if we say no. It is not a small thing; it is a moment of truth. To hold on to the message of the myth when we know it is true (and yet have trouble justifying it to others) may be possible if we imagine we are Psyche making a descent into the underworld and our return depends on whether we can harden our heart to pity and guilt and say no to whatever and whoever we know will drag our spirit down and take energy and optimism from us that we cannot afford to lose.
Taking Psyche's Story to Heart
I have told the story of Psyche in the underworld many, many times and know how powerful the story is when a listener has an Aha! recognition of its personal meaning. Three times, Psyche—whose name means “Soul”—is tested: will she say no each time and hold on to what she needs to make it through this part of her life when the outcome of the rest of her life depends upon it? Many listeners, especially women with selfish parents, partners, or others with narcissistic needs, immediately identify with this part of the myth and know that it applies to their lives, right now.
When we recognize that these symbolic figures may also be representations of who we need to say no to in ourselves, Psyche's story takes us to yet a deeper level of understanding and choice. Do you need to say no to a part of yourself that metaphorically acts lame or dim sighted or tugs on you and pulls you down.? A life-threatening illness takes us into the underworld where life as well as soul is at risk. Insights may make a crucial difference. Look to this myth: survival may depend upon saying no to self-pity and helplessness or to a tendency to weave worst-case outcomes or take on burdens that belong to someone else. These are qualities held by people who are susceptible to codependency, addictions, and depression.
I have found that once we have clarity to know what is right for us and what is wrong for us, we are invariably tested to see if we really got the lesson. Circumstances and individuals present themselves: Will we recognize that this is another version of the same pattern or person that has been destructive to us before? Will we stand tall and say no! this time around? Once we pass by the temptation as many times as we seem to need in order to be out of danger of succumbing, the psychological terrain and the emotional weather change. We find ourselves in a new phase of our lives and are able to say yes! wholeheartedly, often for the very first time, because we have come to know what we feel, to trust our perceptions, and to count on ourselves. There is a need to be able to say no that precedes a genuine yes, when our actions have previously been determined by compliance, conformity, or fear of the reaction of others.
When a story such as Psyche's is taken to heart, a person sees herself or himself as the protagonist in a version of the same story. It can be a force for change, if a myth provides the means to what is happening, inspires us, and gives us strength to act. The power of a myth lies in the application of it to real life. Personal stories have the same power to affect us, if we can identify with the situation and with the person.
Discriminating Actions
If you are in a hospital or at home recovering, still tiring easily and needing all the energy you can muster for your recovery, the opportunity to take the message of the myth to heart and act upon it may apply to visitors and calls. When I think of visiting hours in hospitals, I am reminded of Anne Morrow Lindbergh's
