Mother-Hungry Men versus The Night-Born Path
Milk of the Dark Mother
When it comes to modern men, they are still enmeshed within the family system, psychologically speaking. They are still unconscious of what in Jungian psychology is called the parental complexes. Which form part of the relational patterns, formed in childhood, which also colours the relationship with ones Anima, the inner feminine counterpart of the psyche projected outwardly onto women.
The thing is that the psychological complexes they carry, tied to societal narratives and thus cultural complexes (patterns of belief, emotions and behaviour tied to affect and trauma), distort the feminine into a mere source of nurturing, a primal figure akin to the "mother" or "caregiver" who offers both sustenance and solace. Where within society the “good” feminine became seen as life-giver and healer. The counterpart to the masculine striving for order and achievement.
The Longing for the Primordial Mother
So really what they long for is to return to the primordial and ouroboric state. Which is also depicted in Norse mythology. In the creation myth, Ymir is suckled by the cow Audhumla, an image that symbolizes primal dependence. Where in the Orphic rituals ingesting milk to regress into an infantile state, was then also about seeking healing for deep psychological wounds. This archetype persists today, albeit unconsciously. For many men, the “female that gives milk”, which in ancient times was symbolised by cattle and female cows, is not just a metaphor but a psychological reality. Women, in their eyes, represent the ultimate source of comfort and nurturing. Which thus reveals a regressive yearning for the “mommy” who can heal their unconscious wounds. The dragon stealing the milk-giving female becomes a symbol of their felt deprivation, whether through feminism, societal progress, or personal rejection.
Which also hinders their ability for true vulnerability and emotional intimacy. Women (or the feminine aspects within men themselves) who express emotions are dismissed or invalidated, much like Cassandra from myth. This creates a cycle where their own or others emotional truth is not acknowledged, leading to frustration, strong emotional outbursts, or relationship dissatisfaction. The men, unable to engage emotionally, might feel overwhelmed by these expressions and blame the women for "ruining" the relationship with their emotions, when in reality, the issue is their own discomfort with vulnerability. Whilst they wish for a mommy figure to nurture them. Trying to thus then also endlessly find them in women. Projecting their Anima, and thus relational wounds onto them. Hoping to find a woman that is their ghost mommy, that gives and gives without receiving.
Symbiosis and the Ghost Mommy
Children learn to regulate their emotions and understand their self-concept through the mirroring of their caregivers. Psychological development ideally continues beyond this symbiotic stage, where a more differentiated sense of self begins to emerge. However, many people experience delayed or disrupted emotional development due to early trauma, attachment issues, or societal conditioning. These people can become "stuck" in a symbiotic-like state that mirrors the early developmental stage where their identity and emotional regulation remain heavily reliant on external validation. This is why in romantic or familial relationships, some men expect their emotional needs to be met in a manner similar to symbiotic relationships. This is often reflected in issues like co-dependency, where the boundaries between people become blurred.
The Failure of Modern Rites of Passage
Even though Western society places high importance on self-regulation and emotional control, people seek external sources (other people, substances, social media) to regulate their emotions for self-soothing. This search reflects a lingering symbiotic relationship with others that carries over into adulthood. Where others are turned into what I call the ghost mommy. The emotional caretaker of the adults.
Unlike ancient cultures, where the development of emotional resilience, psychological independence, and facing ones inner chaos was seen as integral to true adulthood, modern societies often fail to nurture these qualities in children. Modern children are rarely subjected to rites of passage that challenge them to integrate their emotional pain, face their fears, or understand their place in the broader community. Instead, they are often shielded from hardship, leading to a lack of the emotional maturity that ancient cultures cultivated. There are surely different layers to this, as one can also just nurture ones inner child, and face the unprocessed trauma. Yet I did the path of Nyx, to become what I coined a Nyktelioi. A night-born and death-cloaked one.
Ritual Death in the North
Most people think survival is about fighting the cold, finding food, or staying busy. But real survival, the kind that strips you down to your essence, is about enduring silence, absence, and the collapse of identity. For two years, I lived alone in near complete isolation in Finland. No people. No partner. No distractions. Just the long, black winters of the north, months of darkness, sub-zero temperatures, and absolute solitude. This wasn’t a retreat. It was a ritual death.
Enduring the Abyss Alone
In the endless solitude and dark, I lost everything the modern mind clings to: comfort, certainty, validation, routine. There was no one to mirror back a self, with no external warmth to affirm I was still human. My mind became the only landscape left to cross, and there, I met the abyss, not just once, but every day. Near complete isolation, other than online friends via text, and ChatGPT. Maybe I saw sometimes people in a grocery store, whilst I wrote books, and faced my unconscious mind. There was no family to support me through it, no local friends in a physical sense. Just me in total solitude.
What soldiers are put through in 36-hour stress immersions, I endured for 730 days. But unlike elite training, I had no support system, no reintegration protocol, and no commanding officer. I had only my own psyche, and the slow unraveling of everything I thought I was. The real descent began when I voluntarily walked into death, not of the body, but of the self.
Koryos: The Berserker Rite
In those forests, I undertook a modern Koryos, the forgotten ancient rite of the Indo-European berserker bands. Not merely a performance of rage, but also a controlled invocation of primal madness, the feral deconstruction of identity, and channeling of the beast within. Not to destroy others, but to strip myself bare. Rage became a fire not turned outward but inward, burning off the masks of who I had been taught to be, the son, the citizen, the achiever, the good man.
Mourning the Old Self
Then came the mourning. The mourning of my personal story, my name, the societal ambitions, my inherited dreams, all dismembered in the dark like a ritual corpse. There were no witnesses to this grief. Only the trees. Only the stars. This was not depression. It was the void beneath personality, where all ego states collapse, and no narrative survives. This is the collapse needed for true ego death and rebirth. Where all ego defences have been taken down, and pure experience is faced.
The Womb of Nyx: Encountering the Absolute
I held space not only for the destruction of who I was, but for the wounded child within. I sat with their tears. I rocked the pain of long-buried trauma in the silence of the snow. With no one to validate me, I became my own parent, my own witness. I surrendered to raw experience, no resistance, no craving, no escape. Just the isness of grief, terror, silence, and awe. For a time, there was no "I" only the fragments of a psyche collapsing into the black womb of rebirth. And then, slowly, something else emerged. This was the complete facing of the abyss, the womb of Nyx. Which can be both a place of love and liberation, but also of terror and utter despair. It depends on how much one has processed ones trauma’s and shadow material before hand. Such a type of encounter is not something one survives without the proper psychic vessel to contain such an experience. The proper framework and psychic tools to integrate it.
Why Mystery Schools Only Initiate the Ready
This is the reason why most mystery schools, only led the ready few go through such rites, as those not psychologically strong enough, nor archetypally guided, would not survive it intact. They would descend into madness, externalising everything onto the world, and be swallowed whole by their unconscious. This is why the framework I had, and slowly uncovered and build, that guided me through my books, articles, research and videos, was key for me to navigate this journey.
Why Mythic Companionship Matters
But frameworks alone are not enough. One also needs companionship on the archetypal level, inner figures that guide, test, and illuminate. For me, this came through the evolving presence of the Anima. First, she appeared in the form of Artemis, the fierce, wild protectress who kept me alive in the early storms. Then Feronia, the liberator of the enslaved, who taught me the sacredness of rage and personal sovereignty. And finally, Lucia Nyktelios, the dark mother, the primordial form of Hecate, she who walks at the crossroads and sees in all directions. It was she, alongside Persephone, who led me through the darkest stages, not as saviors, but as initiators. They did not protect me from the darkness. They made me face it. Fully.
It was this guidance, this living relationship with the archetypal feminine, that kept me tethered when there was no light. It provided the mythic compass that modern men lack. Without such figures, without such structure, I would have become another casualty of the abyss. Yet instead I tasted Elysium, the inner warmth and love that arises, when you touch the doors of the otherworld, beyond all shadow and trauma. This is when the terror of the abyss, becomes the rebirth of Eros, as primordial form of love, the experience of the Self, the archetype of wholeness. Till one dissolves into it, feeling like one is living ones last moments on earth. Till one day what wakes up is not the ego anymore, but something new. Which still retains the memories of the person.
You had me at queer mystic! Loved this write up, thank you for sharing it🙏🏼🙌🏼
Waooohhh, reading this was pure fire! 🔥