Let me let you know slightly story.
Not one with dragons and damsels — however one thing way more harmful: the theft of creativity, identification, and the sacred hearth of your voice.
Somebody lately stole my content material. Not one put up. Not two. Strive over 100. Complete articles, paragraphs, metaphors, headlines — proper right down to the turns of phrase I’d spent years refining. They didn’t copy me. They Xeroxed my soul.
Now, I may’ve gone full scorched earth. I may’ve launched a marketing campaign of receipts, retribution, and righteous rage. However as a substitute, I poured myself a robust cup of Jung, stepped into my authority, and requested:
What’s actually occurring right here?
And that’s when Loki got here slithering in.
The Trickster Strikes: Loki and the Apples of Idunn
In Norse mythology, Idunn is the keeper of the golden apples — the literal fruit of youth and immortality. With out her and her apples, the gods would wither into cosmic husks. She’s not flashy. She doesn’t throw lightning bolts or experience into battle on a six-legged horse. However she holds the facility that retains the entire divine circus alive.
Enter Loki.
Ever the trickster, Loki lures Idunn out of Asgard and palms her over to the giants — enemies of the gods — successfully stealing the very supply of vitality from the divine realm. The gods begin getting old sooner than a nasty face peel, and all of a sudden everybody’s begging Loki to repair what he broke.
And isn’t that all the time the best way with thieves?
They don’t need to construct the orchard.
They only need to seize your apples, slap their title on the basket, and pose for the model photograph like they planted the tree.
The Psychological Fruit Basket: A Jungian Tackle Theft
Let’s get into the psyche.
Why do individuals steal — particularly mental and artistic work?
From a Jungian lens, theft isn’t in regards to the object itself. It’s about identification, energy, and the shadow.
- Shadow Possession
The thief isn’t simply taking your work. They’re possessed by their shadow — the repressed, unformed a part of their psyche that may’t create, so it consumes.
They see your originality, your readability, your voice — and one thing inside them whispers: Take it. Make it yours. Nobody will know.
What they don’t understand is that they’re stealing a shell. They will’t entry the soul of it, as a result of it wasn’t solid of their hearth.
- Persona Fragility
The thief’s public picture — their persona — is weak. As an alternative of doing the internal work, they duct-tape another person’s authenticity to their masks. However a stolen voice all the time shakes beneath stress. It doesn’t maintain. It crumbles beneath the load of questions, originality, and real-time creativity.
A persona constructed on theft is sort of a home of mirrors — shiny, hole, and all the time one step away from collapse.
- Anima/Animus Dysfunction
The thief’s internal masculine (Animus) or female (Anima) is distorted.
- A wounded Animus desires domination — to win by taking.
- A wounded Anima desires validation — to be cherished by mimicry.
However neither one has individuated. They haven’t made peace with who they truly are — so that they slap in your brilliance prefer it’s a designer knockoff.
Being Idunn: The Energy of the Creator
Let me be clear: in the event you’re Idunn, you maintain the orchard.
The apples could also be taken. Briefly. However you might be nonetheless the supply. The knowledge. The keeper of the golden fruit. And no trickster, no thief, no rip-off robotic or wannabe ‘astro-influencer’ can change that.
You don’t lose your energy when your work is stolen.
They lose theirs the second they depend on theft to really feel worthy.
Allow them to age. Allow them to crumble. Let the rot reveal itself.
You? You simply hold planting.
From Theft to Triumph: The Inside Alchemy of Reclamation
After all, the emotional journey of being stolen from is not any stroll in Valhalla. Right here’s the psychological breakdown I went by — and possibly you’ve been there too.
- Shock:
“Wait — did they actually simply copy my total web site and paste it into their weblog with their title on it?”
Sure. Sure, they did. Breathe. Don’t smash your pc. But.
- Rage:
The Mars-Pluto firestorm. The urge to put up screenshots, name them out, and drag them till their Wi-Fi melts.
Helpful vitality — however don’t get caught there. That’s the place they stay.
- Grief:
As a result of it hurts when one thing sacred is desecrated. When your inventive labor is handled like disposable content material. Permit that feeling. It’s actual. It deserves to be held — not suppressed.
- Reclamation:
Now you are taking it again. Legally, emotionally, energetically. You file DMCA takedowns. You rewrite your narrative. You personal your voice — louder than earlier than.
As a result of right here’s the reality:
The thief might steal your phrases — however solely you possibly can communicate them with hearth.
Instructing Via the Theft
And that is the place the magic occurs.
After we expertise theft — of concepts, time, dignity — we’re introduced with a alternative:
- Develop into bitter.
- Or change into larger.
I selected larger.
As a result of this expertise jogged my memory that my voice doesn’t stay in a single weblog put up or one concept. It lives in how I present up, day after day, 12 months after 12 months, voice after voice. My originality is compounded energy. And yours is simply too.
Allow them to copy. Allow them to imitate.
They’re revealing who they’re.
You? You’re revealing what can’t be stolen.
Remaining Phrases from the Hearth
So, right here’s what I need you to remove — whether or not you’ve had your phrases stolen, your concepts pirated, or simply felt the sting of somebody making an attempt to step into your footwear:
You aren’t outlined by what they take. You might be outlined by what you create subsequent.
And in the event you ever end up within the function of Idunn — standing within the aftermath of theft — simply keep in mind:
The gods needed to beg Loki to deliver the apples again.
As a result of solely Idunn could make extra.
And you, my pal, are the orchard.
Storm out!
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