This is a critically important post. And not just for me. Those who are ready to understand it will discover something very important, fundamentally important...

The cosmic catastrophe of "fatherlessness"

"A clay Buddha cannot cross a river, a golden Buddha cannot cross a melting pot." These words are from the collection of Zen sayings "Junrin Kyushu".

It is about the Father, or the Name of the Father, as Jacques Lacan put it.
The name of the Father is the apophatic Deus absconditus, the ultimate, infinite, not fitting into any form, the Absolute. Not the origin of one reality, but the first act of many worlds.

And... so what? What do we care about metaphysical abstraction? We, who live in everyday life, quite mundane affairs?

So what? Let's rewind the clock. How old are you now? 30, 40, 50, 60? Then let's go back 29, 39, 49, 59 years.

Here you are, a child, in a blissful narcissistic merger with your mother. Oceanic bliss, as Sigmund Freud said about this state. It is a very tricky thing. It seems boundless, but... But as soon as the mother leaves, or is distracted, captured by irresistible circumstances... then, that's it, disaster. The child falls into the abyss of horror, the abyss of death. And so it repeats over and over again. Heaven is replaced by hell, without any law, without the slightest sense.

What is it like for a child to be in this terrible swing? Who is he?
Thing. Object.
Yes, the mother figure makes him her favorite object. "What a nose you have, what a beloved tummy you have... All this sweet babbling hides one thing. Are you a child? Then you are an object, not much different from a favorite plate or cup. Names given by a mother are like pins pinning a butterfly to a herbarium leaf. The butterfly is a surprise, the surprise is dead. Remember: to be dead is not necessarily to be a rigor mortis. It is enough to be completely dependent on the mother's power, and then on any external circumstances. If you have a mother, you are in heaven. If there is no mother, welcome to hell.
Because you are what external forces make you. Remember how Myrinck says in The Golem: "they follow no path, the wind carries them like straw". And the trouble is that no matter what our abilities are, no matter what our potential is, as long as we are "straw carried by the wind," we are unable to appropriate them or control them. We are things, and that is a sentence: "Do not ask the ball for consent to throw" (Omar Khayyam).

And so it will be until the Father appears. The name of the Father. The unknown God. And he gives the child a name. No, not like that - the Name. Because the names given by the mother are the names of things. Things that are frozen in their boundaries. Things that cannot be different, cannot develop. Things that are tightly welded, merged, dissolved in the mother's womb.

What does the Father do when He gives a name? First of all, He puts an end to the mother's omnipotence. The child is no longer a part of the mother, not a thing, not a person, but an independent subject, not only possessing abilities, but also able to control them. The name given by the Father is not a name of presence, but of development. By giving you a name, the Father says: you are greater than any name, any form, which from now on has no power over you; from now on, in you and only in you is your source of life and your path.
Maternal names encourage us to cling to our rigid identity, to hold on to our boundaries with all our might. Father's names give us freedom, the freedom to be bigger than any limitations.
A boy, receiving a Name from the Father, reveals the ability to break through to the unknown and infinite. A girl opens herself to the unknown and infinite. A boy gains valor, a girl gains trust. The paths are different, but the essence is the same - they gain the opportunity to become subjects in control of their lives. Subjects of their endless desire.
Our time, the time of the destruction of authority, the time of the lack of the Father's Name, is an era of catastrophe. An era in which we are turning into puppets, pulled by invisible strings by thousands of forces that are not benevolent. An era in which, in the words of Boehme, "man will say, 'There is no God, but a straw, and man will take on the face of an ant.