Navigating my Middle Passage: From the Pursuit of Money to Meaning By Peter Metzner

 

 

The Dream That Broke My Life Open

From outer success to inner alignment—and the transition into elderhood


The Life That Looked Right

In my 30s, I had the job, the income, and the lifestyle to match. On the surface, it looked like success.

But most of my energy was going toward sustaining something that, inwardly, felt off.


The Dream

Around that time, I had a dream I’ve never forgotten.

I was imprisoned in a desert, surrounded by a brick wall and chain-link fence. A surly guard stood watch. Beyond the wall was a completely different world—lush countryside, rolling hills, alive with possibility.

Over time, I understood: this wasn’t just a dream. It was a mirror.

I had built a life that confined me.


The Realization

Sigmund Freud once said a successful life comes down to two things: to love and to work.

But not just any work—work that is right for you.

So I began asking a different question: What is the right work for me?

Through therapy, reading, and coaching, a pattern emerged. I wasn’t living my values—I was living expectations. What I should be, rather than who I was.

As James Hollis writes, “the task of midlife is to find out who you really are and to claim your life.”


The Shift

When I looked back honestly, the answer had always been there.

I came alive when I was teaching, coaching, training, and helping others grow. These weren’t random moments—they were clues.

The shift that followed wasn’t easy. There were financial uncertainties and real tests.

But something changed. When I aligned with what was true, doors opened. The right people appeared. The path, while not always smooth, became meaningful.


Looking Back at 68

Now, at 68, I see that dream differently.

It wasn’t just a warning—it was an invitation.

Not only to change my work, but to begin a longer journey—one that now unfolds into elderhood.

At this stage, the task deepens. It’s no longer about achievement alone, or even alignment. It’s about integration—distilling what you’ve lived and offering it back in a way that serves others.

The “lush landscape” is no longer beyond the wall.

It’s something you carry.
And something you help others discover.


A Question Worth Sitting With

What part of your life looks like success—but feels like a cage?

 

Reclaiming Personal Authority: A Journey to Authentic Living

Knocking From the Inside: Recovering Personal Authority and Meaning

“I have lived on the lip of insanity, wanting to know reasons, knocking on a door. It opens. I’ve knocked from the inside.”
— Rumi

There comes a moment—sometimes quietly, sometimes through crisis—when we realize the life we are living no longer fits. I’ve seen it in my own life and in countless conversations with others: a persistent restlessness, a sense that something essential has been left behind. We may be successful, responsible, and functioning—yet inwardly disconnected. That disconnection is not a failure. It is often the beginning of an invitation.

Carl Jung named this condition with clarity:
“All of our trouble flows from being separated from our instincts.”

Sigmund Freud framed it differently when he said, “The price of civilization is neurosis.” What Freud called neurosis can be understood as the cost of adaptation—the ways we shape ourselves to belong, succeed, and survive. Over time, we may lose touch with our natural truth and begin living from an external script rather than inner authority.

In modern life, this shows up everywhere: burnout, anxiety, quiet despair, a feeling that we are performing our lives instead of inhabiting them.

To live authentically means reconnecting with what is uniquely ours—our passions, instincts, talents, and values—and expressing them in ways that feel meaningful and alive. This process is often called vocational integration: aligning who we are with how we live and contribute. But it requires courage, honesty, and a willingness to ask deeper questions.

Questions That Open the Door

Jungian analyst James Hollis, PhD, emphasizes that transformation begins not with answers, but with the right questions. Questions invite the psyche to speak. Silence, solitude, and patience allow us to hear what is already trying to emerge.

You don’t need to answer all of these at once. Choose one or two that resonate and stay with them over time.

Reflective Questions (from James Hollis, PhD):

  • How do I know what is true for me?

  • When and how did I lose my personal authority?

  • What core beliefs or ideas have defined my life so far?

  • What forces brought me to this moment—family, fate, culture, or unconscious patterns?

  • What parts of my life are working, and what feels constricting?

  • What messages did I internalize? (e.g., Be perfect. Be successful. Don’t disappoint.)

  • Why does my life sometimes feel scripted rather than chosen?

  • Am I choosing security over truth?

  • Where do I hide—from others or from myself?

  • What feelings or desires have I pushed underground?

  • Where do I experience meaning, awe, or transcendence?

Keeping the Appointment With the Self

Jung believed that the highest calling in life is an appointment with the Self—the deeper center of who we are. Not everyone keeps that appointment. Yet life continues to call us back through dissatisfaction, symptoms, and longing.

If the life you’ve lived feels too small, that is not a judgment—it is information.

Each morning, we face two familiar forces:

  • Fear: I’m too small. It’s too late. I can’t do this.

  • Lethargy: Tomorrow will be easier. Stay comfortable.

Jung warned that fear negates life force, writing:
“Only boldness can overcome fear. If the risk is not taken, the meaning of life is violated.”

When Symptoms Are Messengers

Depression, anxiety, addictions, and compulsions are often viewed as problems to eliminate. Hollis offers another perspective: they may be signals that the psyche can no longer cooperate with a life that isn’t true. Symptoms can be cracks in the false self—attempts by the deeper Self to reclaim direction, much like reins guiding a horse back onto its path.

Jung believed that at some level, every person already knows what they need to do. Our task is to listen, discern, and act.

Practical Ways to Begin

If you feel stirred by these ideas, here are simple, concrete ways to engage the process:

  • Journaling: Write freely for 10 minutes on one question each week—without editing or judging.

  • Solitude walks: Walk without distractions and notice what thoughts or emotions surface.

  • Dream reflection: Record dreams; ask what part of you is trying to speak.

  • Reading: Explore works by Jung, James Hollis, or Rilke slowly—letting passages work on you.

  • Guided support: Consider therapy, coaching, or a reflective group focused on depth work and meaning.

An Invitation

If you truly knew what you are capable of, would you still hesitate?

There is a place in your life where your voice belongs. There is something only you can offer. Genius is not reserved for the few—it is part of our birthright.

As Rilke wrote:
“Our task is to be defeated by ever larger things.”

So I invite you to reflect—and respond:

👉 Which question in this piece feels most alive for you right now?
👉 What part of yourself is asking to be reclaimed?

If you’re willing, share your reflections or experiences in the comments. Meaning deepens when it is spoken—and when we realize we are not walking this path alone.

The Hidden Costs of Psychological Projection

An Invisible Force Shaping Our Conflicts, Relationships, and World

Have you ever walked away from a conversation feeling irrationally angry, hurt, or morally certain you were right—only to replay it later and wonder what really happened?

Moments like these are often driven not by what’s in front of us, but by what’s unseen within us.

We all use psychological defense mechanisms—what I sometimes call internal security systems. Their job is simple: protect us from emotional pain. Since growth often involves discomfort, these defenses can feel necessary.

But they come at a cost.
They protect us from awareness, and therefore from growth.

One of the most powerful—and least recognized—of these defenses is projection.


What Is Projection? (In Plain Language)

Projection happens when we attribute to others qualities, feelings, or motives that we don’t want to see—or don’t know how to accept—in ourselves.

You’ve heard the phrase “the pot calling the kettle black.” Psychologically, that’s projection.

The tell-tale sign is emotional charge.
If a reaction feels outsized, rigid, or righteous, something unconscious is likely at play.

A Simple Example

You feel irritated by a colleague you experience as arrogant. You replay their behavior, judge it harshly, and feel justified in your frustration. Later, you realize you often dominate conversations when anxious—but haven’t owned that.

What you reacted to wasn’t just them.
It was something familiar.

Projection is like living in a hall of mirrors. What we see “out there” often reflects something unresolved “in here.”


Why Projection Feels So Convincing

Projection doesn’t just distort perception—it rewards us.

It offers:

  • A sense of superiority (I’m right; they’re wrong)

  • Relief from shame or self-doubt

  • Protection from responsibility and change

If I believe you are the problem, I don’t have to look at myself.

But this comes at a high price. Projection quietly sabotages intimacy, collaboration, and trust—at work, in families, and in communities.

Quote for reflection:
“Man’s capacity for self-deception is truly monumental.” — Yoram Kaufman

Practice: Catching Projection in Real Time

When you feel triggered, pause and ask:

  • What am I reacting to most strongly?

  • Where might this quality live in me—however subtly?

  • What would it cost me to acknowledge that?


When Beliefs Harden into Contempt

Projection becomes especially dangerous when fused with rigid beliefs—moral, ideological, or religious.

If I believe my way is the only right way, disagreement becomes evidence that you are misguided, inferior, or even bad. From there, contempt and control feel justified.

A common relational example:

  • A manager decides an employee is “incompetent”

  • The manager becomes critical and controlling

  • The employee shuts down or disengages

  • The manager uses this as proof they were right

Projection creates the very behavior it condemns.


Collective Projection: When the Scale Turns Deadly

Projection doesn’t stop with individuals—it operates at the level of groups and nations.

History shows how easily fear and blame can be projected onto an “enemy.” Once a group is demonized, domination and violence feel not only justified—but necessary.

Adolf Hitler understood this mechanism well. The Nazi regime projected its own hunger for power, control, and brutality onto Jewish people—accusing them of conspiracies and corruption.

These projections paved the psychological road to genocide.

What’s most unsettling is this: psychologists have shown that this capacity is not unique to one culture or era. We’ve seen it in Rwanda, Sudan, and in the displacement and destruction of Indigenous peoples across the Americas.

Projection scales frighteningly well.


The Antidote: Owning Our Projections

The path forward is not moral perfection—it’s responsibility.

Owning our projections doesn’t mean self-blame. It means reclaiming what we’ve given away.

Whenever you feel emotionally charged, try this:

  1. Name the trigger

  2. Identify the quality you’re reacting to

  3. Ask how it might exist in you—past or present

  4. Notice what shifts when you do

Often, intensity softens. Curiosity replaces certainty.

As Marion Woodman wrote:

“To be psychologically free is to be confident in our own inner world, responsible for our own strengths and weaknesses, consciously loving ourselves—and therefore able to love others.”

And as Carl Jung once said when asked if there was hope for the world:
“There is hope—if enough people do their inner work.”


A Final Reflection

The outer world cannot be healed without inner responsibility.

Projection blinds us. Awareness restores sight.

Reflection question:
Who or what am I reacting to most strongly right now—and what might that reaction be inviting me to see in myself?

That question is the first step.