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Conquering Rage, Pride and Procrastination
For his fifth and probably filthiest labor, Hercules had to clean out decades of dung from stables owned by King Augeas. This task was deliberately designed to psychologically defeat and humiliate Hercules. His prior labors up to that point were heroic, glorious, ultimately victorious battles against the Nemean lion and Lernaen Hydra, and the time-consuming stalking, hunting and capture of another two elusive creatures: a fleet and golden deer known as the Hind, and a gigantic, violently aggressive wild boar. Having incredulously seen Hercules complete these first four death-defying labors successfully, Eurystheus, Hera's sadistic taskmaster, takes a different tack, ordering Hercules to cleanse the Augean stables in but a single day.
What made this labor so seemingly impossible was a combination of the immense size of the stables, the huge number of cattle it contained, the fact that it had never before been cleaned, coupled with the sheer prodigious amount of dung produced daily by these supernatural oxen. Hercules had already demonstrated his ability to overcome and redirect at least some of his own dangerous aggression into good deeds during the first two labors. Now he faced a different kind of challenge: one which demanded not just brawn--since no amount of physical strength could suffice to achieve this task in only one day--but brains, ingenuity, resourcefulness, and, most of all, humility. A recognition of his own human limitations. It is likely Hercules at first felt overwhelmed and defeated by the monumental task. But he finally finds a way to get it done by diverting the courses of two raging rivers to run right through the stables, flushing them out in short order.
There are some noteworthy parallels here to the psychotherapy process. Psychotherapy can often entail confronting a lifetime of accumulated shit. Psychotherapy patients sometimes experience the daunting task of delving into their past and dealing with their emotional demons in much the same way Hercules must have felt as he faced his disgusting, demeaning and ego-deflating fifth labor. For some, even taking the decision to seek psychotherapy is perceived as a failure or defeat. Such a seemingly impossible, tedious, menial task is tough on the ego and can be a severe blow to one's narcissism. But it can take just such a turn in life to teach us some healthy humility and diminish our neurotic narcissistic grandiosity. Carl Jung once commented that "the experience of the Self is always a defeat for the ego." What he meant is that in order for us to mature and become more whole (i.e., to individuate), the ego must relinquish its superiority and megalomanic delusions regarding its central and primary place in the psyche and personality. Our ego must learn to happily and humbly play second-fiddle to what Jung termed the Self: all that is beyond the conscious ego, far more powerful, and vital to the authentic personality. Namely, the unconscious.
I prefer to think of this infuriating and humiliating "defeat for the ego" as a traumatic yet potentially transformational process. We are insulted, humbled and, at first feel defeated by such untoward events, which can take the form of outer travails or hardships, involuntary psychiatric symptoms, and/or inner crises painfully demonstrating that we are not in complete command of ourselves but rather subject to the superior or relatively autonomous powers of the unconscious and of life itself. Naturally, the ego furiously resists such displacement and dethronement, seeking to maintain its illusion of control and mastery over reality. This resistance on the part of the ego to surrendering to the Self is so strong, persistent and pervasive--and we are so overidentified with it--that sometimes a seemingly insurmountable crisis or trauma is required to forcefully topple it from its narcissistic ivory tower. Life inevitably provides precisely that which is called for. A kind of psychological shock therapy. Often, the initial emergence or appearance of the Self is experienced as a life-shattering crisis or trauma, as, for example, in the biblical case of Job. When the ego is overwhelmed or defeated by the superior powers of life or the unconscious, we tend to fall into a state of depression, grief, narcissistic injury, and bitterness. The ego has failed to figure the problem out, to find a way to remain in control, to preserve its precious self-importance. But in that humiliating defeat and ensuing grief, depression and despair, the unconscious--and specifically what Jung called the psyche's inherent transcendent function--is activated, providing a different attitude, insight or perspective about the problem and how to constructively approach or resolve it. Paradoxically, this "defeat for the ego" liberates the helpful life-giving waters of the unconscious, making their revitalizing and creative energy more accessible to us.
The story of Hercules and the Augean stables can also be seen as a metaphor for what happens when we procrastinate too long--whether that procrastination is avoidance of psychotherapy or of getting daily tasks accomplished. Dung--like a neurosis, complex or anger--doesn't just disappear by ignoring or denying it. It builds up over time. Festers. Toxifies. And becomes more--not less--difficult, noxious and messy to deal with. People who tend to procrastinate (which includes all of us to some extent) often continue to do so because they feel overwhelmed by the task. Or, because they find the task too tedious. In order to overcome procrastination, it is vital that the person courageously confront rather than avoid the anxiety-provoking challenge, and accept the often tedious, ordinary and dirty work it demands. Simply placing "one-foot-in-front-of-the-other" rather than focusing on the enormity or tedium of the labor can be one helpful trick. Hercules creatively reroutes two rivers to help him get the job done. Metaphorically, this represents a masterful redirection of psychic energy or libido and a creative utilization of environmental resources, consciously focusing all of one's concentration or attention, and channeling one's anxiety--or, in some cases, anger or rage--into the current task at hand.
By now, Hercules has begun to learn to harness and control--rather than deny and be controlled by--his daimonic energies, creatively redirecting them into constructive activity. We must all learn to do the same. But there is still a tragic dark side to this fifth labor: Hercules had been promised by King Augeas the reward of one-tenth of his immortal cattle if he could accomplish this nasty task. When Hercules actually succeeded, the greedy king reneged on the agreement. Presumably enraged by this betrayal, Hercules impulsively kills the king, taking his well-earned reward by brute force. Anger, aggression and self-assertion in such a situation may be appropriate and often necessary. But not unbridled narcissistic rage. Nor homicide, which is how Hercules came to be condemned to his Twelve Labors in the first place. (See Part One.) So it appears that, though the dishonest king was clearly in the wrong, Hercules still has some serious anger management issues to address.
