Queen Esther, the 80s, and Carl Jung

Purim, the 80s, and Jungian psychology sounds crazy, right? But these three things have a surprising amount in common, especially when finding meaning in the second half of life. Today, we’ll explore how Esther’s journey in the Purim story, viewed through the lens of Jungian psychology and the soundtrack of the 80s, provides a framework for understanding our transitions to a life of authenticity and purpose.

I found significant meaning in the work of James Hollis, whose books “The Middle Passage” and “Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life” explore the psychological journey of confronting our false selves and embracing our true nature – all to find our most genuine and authentic lives.  

Hollis emphasizes that this “middle passage” involves a decision, moment, or crisis that forces us to shed outdated beliefs. He also teaches that the middle passage is the period of moments in our lives as we transition into true adulthood. 

Esther’s story, and even those of other characters in this story, reflect this transition. Each teaches us what it means to go from being captive to societal expectations to achieving personal authenticity. 

To set the context, we will explore three themes that echo through Shushan as clearly as in 80s movie classics like Breakfast Club or St Elmo’s Fire: growing up and facing one’s fears, integrating our shadow aspects, and finding meaning beyond ego-driven goals.

Many years ago, when a friend gave me the book called “The Middle Passage,” and more recently when I acquired the book “Finding Meaning,” each hit me like lightning.  I found comfort and excitement in how an expert described the moments in our lives when we begin to shed what we are “supposed” to think and start questioning everything. 

It was like waking up one day and thinking, “Is this really me? Is this what I want to be doing with my life?” How much of what I do is because I want to…or think I have to? How much is it because people expect me to do it?

Sting once said, “I want my MTV.” Well, I say, “I want my Purim, analyzed through the lens of Jungian psychology to understand better the intentionality of the second half of our lives…and set to an 80s soundtrack!”… Now, let’s look at Esther’s story – especially with an eye toward her transition to adulthood…”

Rabbi Sacks, Teaching in Toronto in 2016 said “yet there is one line in the book that to me cuts through me like a knife, because it is the most powerful statement in Judaism, that Hashem has not abandoned us. This is when Mordechai says to Esther after she has told him all the problems there might be in interceding with Achashverosh, he says to her those famous words, im hacharesh tacharishi ba’et hazot, “If you are silent and you do nothing at this time,” revach vehatzalah ya’amod layehudim mimakom acher, “Somebody else will save the Jewish people.” Umi yodeia, “But who knows?” im la’et kazot higa’at lemalchut? “Was it not for just this moment that you became a Queen, with access to Achashverosh in the royal palace?” (Esther 4:14)”

Wow. Think about that. Why was she there? Why are any of us here? Esther was about to choose to transition to adulthood and hear the call to find meaning in her life.

She starts as this quiet, passive queen, hiding her Jewish identity. But then, she is called upon to step up and save her people. She can no longer ignore reality. 

Mordechai calling her out is like a splash of cold water on the fiction she’s created for herself, living “above it all” in the Palace. She has to face her moment – her Passage into adulthood – figuring out who she is and what she’s meant to do. 

Remember the song “What a Feeling” from the movie Flashdance? “Take your passion and make it happen?” That’s Esther’s journey.

How do we know when to make a moment count? Hollis says we all wear masks (he calls them “personas”) to fit in with society. Esther’s mask was being the quiet, obedient queen. In contrast, Hollis describes the beginning of the second half of life as when our “True Self” demands to be heard. Sometimes, the call comes from inside, and sometimes, it comes from beyond.

Here, Esther gets that demand loud and clear and has to reveal her identity.  

I think of Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean” – telling his young Don Juan self to prioritize authenticity, saying, “Don’t go around breaking young girls’ hearts.” Esther’s breaking free from expectations and becoming a more authentic self.

Finding our true selves in the second half of life isn’t easy. Hollis suggests facing our fears and insecurities and even naming them is a good first step. Esther was terrified to approach the king without being summoned; it could mean death. But she did it anyway. 

I can almost see Esther singing to herself and power dancing like Pat Benatar as she approaches the King, singing, “We are strong; no one can tell us we’re wrong, Searching our hearts for so long, Both of us knowing, Love is a battlefield.” 

Hollis teaches that we can start caring less about what others think and more about what truly matters to us as we grow and ask for it authentically. Esther chooses a different path than just being a pretty face for the king. 

She decides to become a powerful advocate for her people. Whitney Houston’s joyful anthem about being yourself echoes Esther’s courage to stand up for her beliefs, wants and needs. She sang, “Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody, With somebody who loves me.”

Authenticity and a commitment to our true selves is one path through the middle passage, and as Mordechai said, the time is now, and the place is here.

A second idea…Hollis talks (ALOT) about integrating our “shadow” – the parts of ourselves we try to hide or ignore. I wish someone had stopped me in my teens (in the 80s) and explained this idea to me. 

If I could, I would ask myself to imagine that I had a backpack that I carried around all the time but never looked inside. 

That backpack is like our shadow—it’s full of parts of ourselves that we don’t want to see or admit to. Maybe these are feelings, thoughts, or traits we think are “bad” or embarrassing.

Jung said everyone has this shadow. Sometimes, peeking inside that backpack can be transformative. When you do, you might find some good and bad surprises. 

The cool thing is that once you examine what’s in there, you can better understand yourself and even become a stronger, more complete person. It’s like leveling up in a video game but for your personality.

Would I have even listened? I don’t know about you, but certainly, there have been mornings where I couldn’t face myself and my shadow in the harsh morning light when all our fictions were stripped away. 

Michael Jackson would teach us that “I’m starting with the man in the mirror, I’m asking him to change his ways, … If you wanna make the world a better place, Take a look at yourself and then make a change.”

So much of finding fulfilling adulthood can be summarized by being okay with precisely what you see in the mirror and setting out to accomplish what you can. It can also mean offering kindness to the hidden emotions and motivations we carry in our emotional backpacks—no more, no less. 

The third idea is finding meaning beyond ourselves and our ego-driven goals. Esther isn’t the only character in the story.  We can learn a lot from others about a life beyond our ego.

Mordecai is like a mentor figure. He challenges Esther to step up and be her true self.  Hollis emphasizes the need for guidance during our Middle Passage. As individuals, we can often feel lost without rituals or support. 

Like any good 80s movie, mentors like a Karate Instructor or a Jedi can provide the necessary push to help others navigate their transformative journeys and to force them to think beyond themselves and their motivations.  Mordecai helps Esther find the hero within herself. 

Then there’s Haman, the bad guy with a massive ego. Hollis talks about how our egos can get in the way of our growth and must be humbled to allow us to grow up and align ourselves with reality. Haman’s pride and preening were his undoing, like that anti-hero from the Carly Simon song, “You’re So Vain.” 

Haman’s arrogance and obsession with control led to his downfall. 

Hollis teaches that the collapse of our ego is a painful but necessary step toward humility and self-awareness. Haman never got a chance to experience the power of this transformation, but we can. 

Hollis also talks about how we sometimes project our issues onto others. Haman’s hatred for the Jews might be him projecting his massive insecurities and self-loathing onto them. It’s like Bananarama’s “Cruel Summer.” They sang, “The city is crowded, my friends are away and I’m on my own.” Solitude or loneliness often forces us to face our biggest insecurities. Hollis might say Haman’s making life cruel for others because he can’t deal with his stuff.

Finally, in this story, we examine the Jewish people. They face a massive crisis, but it brings them together and helps them find their collective strength. Hollis discusses how crises can lead to growth and renewal. 

For centuries, Jews have been like Fleetwood Mac, singing, “Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow, Don’t Stop. It will soon be here.” Even in dark times, Jews don’t stop thinking about tomorrow. Crises can unify communities and drive them toward collective renewal and growth.

From Queen Esther to the power ballads of the 80s, one truth rings clear: the journey to our true selves is a dance of courage. Face your fears, integrate your shadows, and find a meaning that resonates beyond your ego. As David Bowie urged, “Turn and face the strange.” Embrace the changes, and step into the spotlight of your authentic life.