Foreword
TD Dierker is not a psychologist, but he is very psychologically astute. His book is engaging because he thinks in images and because his writing is predominantly storytelling.
You will find his imagery strikingly and wondrously clear in that way some stories touch deeply into your soul (that mysterious part you are unable to define, but you know when it is touched). That is because story and soul share the same universal language that dates back to the Stone Age: the picture-painting language of imagery and feeling.
Images conjured up, like feelings evoked, have the power to move us at a deep level, to awaken, change, and heal us. With the ingredients of a good story—imagery plus feeling—TD invites you to follow your soul where it inevitably leads home to yourself and your own front door.
As a Jungian psychoanalyst trained in Zurich, Switzerland, I have worked with adult men and women for more than thirty-five years. I am witness to the reason people overcome their resistance to enter therapy: Somewhere, deep inside, they intuitively know their lives can be better. No matter how long they have suffered from whatever is not working in their lives, by exchanging false notions about themselves and others for more true ones, they bring about more satisfying lives—where their insides and outsides match better.
It came to me while reading AWOL that if this book of stories were a fairytale, it would be The Donkey. What? Fairytales? If you think fairytales are just for kids, keep reading. They are among our oldest stories, worldwide, because they contain basic truths about human behavior. They are symbolic and fantastical story forms with profound psychological meanings. They offer insight into what is not working in the culture and insight into what is not working in us. And the best part: Fairy tales show how to remedy our problems.
Grimm’s Donkey is about a childless king and queen who eventually have a son, born in the form of a donkey. Literally true? No. Psychologically true? Every day. Because of negative experiences in his young life, the “boy-donkey” learns to see himself as an ass. And because of more positive experiences, he finds the way to see his deeper, “prince-born” self.
I employ a fairytale here because fairytales hold wisdom for our lives. Each of us has a fairytale, whether we know it or not, that describes our challenge to become a more fully developed person. Every tale has a turning point. And each hero or heroine, when we come to their stuck place, shows us the way out. Or, in some cases, the way in. If we understand the tale psychologically and follow the lead offered to us, we get on the path to healing and wholeness, the path home to ourselves.
After reading AWOL, I believe The Donkey is TD’s tale—and also the tale of many who take the inner journey. Allow me to summarize:
The king and queen were horribly disappointed to see their donkey-son. The queen wanted to drown it, but the king was determined to raise the donkey as his son and heir. Despite hooves for hands, their son asked to learn to play the lute and became an accomplished player. Once while out walking, he came to a well. Seeing his reflection in the water, he became so distressed that he decided to go on a journey, taking his lute.
He eventually came to a kingdom that was ruled by an old king who had a beautiful daughter. When he knocked on the gate, it was not opened. So, he began to play his lute. At that, the gatekeeper ran to the king and told him of the delightful music. So, the king called for the musician. Initially laughed at by those in the court, the donkey insisted on being treated as a nobleman, so the king let the donkey sit beside his daughter where he behaved like a gentleman.
After many days, the donkey grew sad. As the king had grown fond of him, the king offered many things to make him happy. The donkey would only accept the king’s beautiful daughter as his wife, and they married. After the wedding, the king sent a servant to watch their bedroom to see that the donkey behaved himself. The servant observed the donkey take off his skin and underneath he was a handsome young man. He related this to the king, who himself observed the same the following night and stole the donkey skin away. When the young man awoke, he panicked and decided to run away. On his way out, the king confronted him, told him to stay, and offered to make him his heir. The young man accepted; and when the old king died the next year, he became king and had a glorious life.
Rejected for his differentness, made fun of, and ultimately humiliated, the boy-donkey finds safety in hiding behind a false self. He copes through negative behaviors such as stubbornness and resistance to change.
But when met with respect, patience, and appreciation, he hears the music in his own soul which opens the door to connect with his softer side and all the true riches and treasured experiences of life. He finds the courage, when confronted, not to hide or run away (go “AWOL”) but throws off his false jackass mask and allows himself and others to see his handsome, unique, true self. Every story in AWOL is a variation on this theme.
Have you wondered how childhood shapes our adult lives and relationships? Quite simply: We do as we have been done by. Although the unconscious is a strong determining factor, the original Jungian analyst, Carl Jung, said, “I am not what happened to me; I am what I choose to become.” Somewhere between these two truths is where most of us live.
One experience of shame and betrayal is all it takes in our young lives to pull some version of a donkey skin over us to hide behind.
Each of us carries a web of hidden stories that influence how we see ourselves, others, and the world. It doesn’t help when we minimize or romanticize these formative years and early relationships. Few escape childhood unmarked. One shameinducing experience won’t be compensated for by five trips to the amusement park. When these painful experiences imprison us in self-limiting beliefs, what’s the get-out-of-jail card? Your inner prince needs to be less an ass and more a kindly king who confronts your knee-jerk attempts to run away from yourself.
We each hold the key to a meaningful life. Every life-changing story is whispering to us…wanting to be felt and heard. If a tear comes, take it as a sign that you are on holy ground. Like telescopes turned backward, tears can help us see a long way in. Reading AWOL and allowing TD’s stories and questions to percolate inside you may help a story of your own to bubble up, and help you locate your own overlooked key.
The task is clear: Just remember. Bring the stories to light. Unravel them strand by strand, separating the gold threads woven through dysfunctional narratives. Face up to what is broken. Be curious. Ask questions without judgment. If our early lives had traumatizing moments, no doubt we built walls to hide behind or donned masks in an attempt to shield ourselves from further pain. The painful irony is that refusing to look inside is the other side of refusing to grow and change outside. Yes, change is difficult; it’s hard to let go of the mask or false self. It usually works well for a while…until it doesn’t. Oddly, some of us would rather die than bid our fears and illusions goodbye.
Emily Dickinson, who understood soul work, reminds us, “The sailor cannot see the north but knows the needle can.” Our inner compass will always point to our North Star, but we can become distracted from checking it or, worse, feel we’ve lost our compass overboard. Our boat hits pain, guilt, shame, rage, or grief like hidden rocks. But if we truthfully face those parts of our stories, we can let go of the old images of who we were or how life should be and open the door to finally meet ourselves standing there… waiting. There’s no more self-loving act than to welcome yourself home to yourself.
The thing that holds most men back is the misconception that keeping hurtful memories and feelings at bay protects them. Wrong. It is not the feelings that destroy us. It is what we tell ourselves about the feelings—echoing the painful story of the past— that is so self-destructive and makes us want to avoid them. And so, we spend the present fearing the past instead of coming to our own aid.
TD’s book brings compassion to hurtful memories, allowing them to unfold, relax, and tell their stories. He underlines the importance of identifying that tragic AWOL-going point where one turns or hides away from self. He shows how to confront wrong or self-defeating beliefs so readers can reach a new turning point, back toward self and a more present, honest, real way of being.
Sometimes we’ve worn our false masks for so long, we don’t know the difference between them and our true faces. But if you are committed and patient and ask the right questions, you will uncover your true self and find new freedom, passion, creativity, relatedness, joy, and meaning.
So, as you read TD’s book of stories, consider his invitation: to finally accept and befriend ourselves in a way we may have never done before.
Prepare to be inspired as you travel with him through his reflections. Parts of his path are reminiscent of mine, so this book is not just for men. Are we not each on the same journey home?
T.S. Eliot writes, “And the end of all our exploring will be to...