I have made references in a few stories on this blog to the sexual abuse I experienced throughout my childhood at the hands of a paedophile uncle, but have avoided specific details. It’s a difficult and uncomfortable subject for writer and reader alike, but I feel having context and a reference is necessary to reveal the remarkable guidance and transformational power of dreams, which has been my focus for this blog from the start. Two recent dreams convinced me I must address the problem directly to be able to write meaningfully about the dream healing process.
I am participating in an open-air religious service on the grounds of a temple. When it is over, a man places a hooded robe on me in preparation for a ritual I am to perform in the temple. Inside, a woman participant tells me of the time she was captured by soldiers or religious authorities and forced to witness them swinging her cat by the tail and bashing its head against a wall. The cat was not killed outright, and she was made to finish the job herself (I was spared the details). They then beat her baby bump in an attempt to kill the child she was carrying. She showed no outward signs of being traumatised as she spoke but was profoundly sad. As she told her story, I wondered to myself how anyone recovers from such trauma.
The following dream came 3 months later:
I had gone to a man’s house on an errand. On the coffee table was a book he had written, and I began reading it. It told how he and his family encountered a group of seven ‘interesting’ men, while on a camping trip in an isolated mountainous wooded area (‘interesting’ was in quotes). He was forced to watch these men rape his wife and three daughters. I thought: “How on earth does anyone get over that?” He had a cheerful disposition, and I wondered if it was genuine or if he had found a way to compartmentalise the trauma. He appeared to live alone; there was no sign of any female presence.
These dreams were quite different from the more than two decades-long series of intruder and burglary dreams where I was personally violated, and my house broken into and burglarised. As gruesome as they were, I felt a significant shift had occurred inasmuch as I wasn’t one of the victims but a second-hand witness to the events. The theme in both dreams was the same: the violation of the feminine, a perennial collective trauma in a world dominated by masculine values. Initially, the question posed in each, “How does anyone get over this level of trauma?” disturbed me. It was a response I often had to news stories of any type of distressing event, and I had never found a satisfactory answer. Even more disturbing was the deeper personal question, “Am I over my trauma?” As I sat with the dreams, I resolved to write about what I didn’t want to as a way of exploring these questions.
In 1962, I was 12 years old and living with my mother’s sister and her husband while my mother was hospitalised for a lengthy period with one of her many nervous breakdowns. I was always anxious about being separated from Mum, but my anxiety escalated when the drama of the Cuban missile crisis – the infamous 13 days in October – dominated the news. She was in Adelaide, 300 miles from where I was in Broken Hill; my only contact with her was by mail, and the world was on the brink of nuclear war. One day, when I was particularly distressed, my uncle took it upon himself to comfort me. I don’t recall the conversation, nor how I came to be in his bedroom, but certain aspects of the experience are vivid still, 60+ years later: him talking to me soothingly, putting Vaseline on me, the searing physical pain and resultant shock and then, blacking out.
The next thing I knew, I was up in the top right-hand corner of the room, a disembodied head, watching the catatonic one on the bed, aware of the inner turmoil that was masked by the blank look on her face. At the same time, I was taking in the whole scene from floor level. This aspect of me wasn’t aware of having a form of any kind, yet I could see as if through physical eyes. I could see my face at ceiling level, looking at my physical self on the bed and my uncle squatting alongside it. I have no idea how much time had elapsed and can’t recall any other details except for something most difficult to describe: I felt like a point of awareness within a larger field of awareness. The atmosphere was perfectly still, calm and silent, completely lacking in judgment or emotion. It was as if there were three of me – the physical body, the disembodied face near the ceiling and the formless observer below – all contained in something inexplicable.
I have little memory of what happened after that, how I came out of the state I was in, or what happened in the immediate aftermath. I was no doubt in severe shock. I imagine I got the usual lecture about “Our little secret” and “Don’t tell anyone, or you’ll go to jail, and so will I.” I do know that from then on, I wouldn’t let him near me again. The abuse had been going on from a very early age, and as distasteful and anxiety-provoking as ‘pleasuring’ him was, he had never physically hurt me before. He had ensured my compliance by playing on my affection and desire to please him, making me feel special and reminding me in subtle ways that I was obligated to him for taking me into his home and for his assistance to my family after our father’s disappearance.
Fear now overrode everything. It gave me the strength and resolve to resist his manipulations, but I paid the price. From then on, the psychological warfare intensified, and what I had realised in that moment of terror was reinforced daily; without my compliance, I no longer had any value to him, and the love and affection I had received were withdrawn. I was still living under his roof, and it would be another 6 months before I rejoined my mother. In the interim, my schoolwork suffered for the first time; school was no longer the place of refuge from home life it had always been for me. I still attended church, my other place of refuge, but in my confused mental state, it, too, lost its sense of safety and security. I became hyper-vigilant and started having panic attacks, which escalated over the next 17 years, becoming so debilitating that I felt I would go mad or commit suicide if I didn’t get help. And so I entered therapy for the first time.
The help turned out to be a mixed blessing, as during the therapy, I decided to tell Mum and Aunt about the abuse. I never mentioned details, just that he had molested me. It was the only language I had at the time. In fact, I hadn’t even told my therapists about the rape. I couldn’t bring myself to face that until many years later. My disclosure caused trouble between the two sisters, and Mum didn’t speak to me for 9 months. I never told anyone else, but somehow word got out in the family, and my cousin’s wife, who I later learned had been harassed by my uncle (her father-in-law), took out a court order to prevent her young children from being allowed in their grandparents’ house. Word came to me that my aunt said, “This is all that damn Gloria’s fault.” I became a pariah in the family. The knowledge that I might have helped protect the children was some consolation for being an outcast, but still, I was devastated.
The hostility unleashed on me, the inadequate means of dealing with it, and the lack of support caused tremendous anxiety. I was re-traumatised, and this time, it was worse because I was made the scapegoat for everyone’s guilt. The therapist couple I was seeing were out of their depth. The Transactional Analysis framework they operated within was a brilliant system but inadequate for what I was dealing with. Sexual abuse wasn’t on the radar much in 1980, nor was the knowledge of PTSD and its treatment. I continued with the therapy, and the panic attacks eventually subsided enough for me to feel relatively stable. I decided the way to cope was to get on with life as best I could and forget about what had happened, as I had done initially. This worked, after a fashion, until my husband’s terminal cancer diagnosis 17 years later.
During Roger’s illness, we attended a healing retreat, and there was a discussion about the emotional and psychological factors contributing to cancer. A woman with breast cancer reported that she believed it had been triggered by unresolved issues around the sexual abuse she had experienced as a child. I thought about my history of migraines and wondered if there was a connection. The panic attacks had ceased to be a problem but the migraines I’d had since childhood had worsened significantly over the years, often seeing me bedridden for days at a time and relying on dangerous doses of painkillers. They weren’t life-threatening like cancer, but living with them often made me feel suicidal. I wondered if I could be tempting fate by not dealing with the past.
I learned of a hypnotherapist who had recently started practicing in my area. Serendipitously, Dr. Patricia Burgess was at the very medical centre I attended. At the first session, she said it would not be appropriate to look at any deep issues because of the situation with Roger, so we focused on gentle relaxation hypnosis. She taped the sessions, and I listened to them daily. These, and the sessions I had with her, were my port in the storm. As it turned out, I saw her only hours before Roger died, and during the 10-minute drive from her office to the hospice, I was in a state of peace that felt like it would last forever. Of course, it didn’t, but it stayed with me throughout that night, enabling me to remain calm and fully present as Roger took his final breath, and lasted long enough to get me through the worst of the days ahead.
I stopped seeing Pat at this point but I continued using the tapes as a meditation practice. This was an enormous help in a very difficult time, but as the headaches were still quite debilitating, I resumed working with her two years later. This time, she asked me if I was sure I wanted to go into the abuse issue, as it could be opening a Pandora’s box. I felt I had no choice, as the box had already been well and truly opened, and there was no closing it. I’d had a vision of Jesus and a profound energetic awakening experience during Roger’s illness, which led to unusual psychic phenomena, and my dream life had exploded almost the minute he died. Something was clearly trying to get my attention. I had been writing the dreams down and often had intuitive insights into them, but was at a loss for how to work with them. I decided to plunge in.
It would be impossible to describe in a short blog post what I experienced over the next three years; suffice it to say that working with the unconscious is exhilarating, confronting, and very challenging, with real-life consequences. During this time, I found where my father was buried and visited his grave in Sydney. I had contact with my uncle, which brought to the surface a rage I didn’t know I was capable of experiencing. I returned to Uni, which lasted 6 months, and I remarried, which lasted 21 months. I saw Pat off and on during this time, and in between, I tried various alternative treatments like acupuncture, reiki, bodywork and various groups and workshops. There were promising times of respite, but consistent relief would be a long way off.
A lot of the work I did with Pat at this time was an imaginative exploration of my dreams, and this was my introduction to their healing power. Even the nightmares began to lose their terrifying aspect. She had a deep interest in Jung’s work, which I had also begun to explore, and she helped me appreciate his holistic approach to living a meaningful life. When my marriage broke up, all the childhood abandonment, rejection, and betrayal issues surfaced with a vengeance, the dreams intensified, and I was thrown into an existential crisis. Ultimately, this would prove to be just the catalyst I needed for a descent into the depths of the psyche and to take the dreams seriously. Pat retired her practice soon after, but in the meantime, I had lucked onto Jane Teresa Anderson’s dream forum, and the knowledge and support I experienced there from Jane and the other members were a real lifesaver.
When Pat was clear of her commitments, we continued the work informally, meeting up at Jung meetings, sharing resources, working through dreams over lunch and having in-depth discussions about what we were reading at the time. On several occasions when I was in crisis, she did hypnotherapy with me at my home. I simply don’t know what I would have done without her. One night in 1999, soon after beginning the serious work with her, I had an extraordinary conversation with a voice in my head, described here, in which I was told “I have sent you to Pat.” To me, she was, very literally, a Godsend, and I count myself fortunate to have her as a friend to this day.
Over the years, I have done countless dream workshops and groups of various kinds, devoured books and had many different teachers, but I always came back to Jung, eventually entering into Jungian analysis with Dr Robert Matthews and making a firm commitment to the individuation path that is the core of Jung’s approach. It is challenging work and not something I would have embarked on voluntarily, but having come this far, I can only be thankful I did. I now regard it as valuable and important work, not just for me individually, but for the collective consciousness.
This brings me back to the questions posed by the dreams I opened with: how does anyone get over severe trauma, and am I over my own trauma? I know of no definitive answers to the first, but it does seem to require a willingness to turn within and face whatever demons are guarding the hidden treasure. The treasure, I choose to believe, is love. I have learned through my own experience that there is an inner guiding light, if only it can be accessed. The double tragedy of trauma, especially deliberate and premeditated abuse, is that the connection with this inner self is damaged, sometimes beyond repair. I recall sitting in a psychotherapist’s room once, practically choking on the words that were trying to emerge: “I feel like I’ve been irredeemably contaminated.” Making that confession was a turning point.
As for being ‘over it,’ I have been taken by surprise too often by what emerges from the unconscious to give an unequivocal answer. What I cansay is that it no longer feels personal. The violation of the feminine is deeply embedded in the collective psyche and acted out in the world in ways that are truly heartbreaking. These days, when I am confronted with an unexpected trigger, I know how to work with it and seek help if I need to. The proper orientation is required.
Several years ago, I had a dream in which I was doing an exam. The question wasn’t clear in the dream, but the answer had to be in the form of an essay. I started out answering in terms of what I thought was required, but then I switched to a more personal style, and it took on a spiritual theme. As I wrote, my enthusiasm grew and I ended with a flourish by saying, My religious attitude, as Jung calls it, has given my life a meaning and purpose that was hitherto missing in the days when I believed myself to be an atheist, and for that I feel very, very grateful and very, very blessed.
I wasn’t altogether thrilled with the term religious at the time, equating it as I did with organised religion, but I had learned by then that my dream self is wiser than my waking self. Clear and explicit statements such as this are a rare gift, so I took notice, and over time, my understanding of the way Jung uses the term solidified, and my religious attitude became more refined. The most succinct definition comes from Daryl Sharp’s Jung Lexicon:
Religious attitude. Psychologically, an attitude informed by the careful observation of, and respect for, invisible forces and personal experience.
It sounds so dry and academic! What it means to me is that I learn to value and honour my own personal experiences and trust them and their source. I now regard the out-of-body-experience (OOBE) I had at the time of the rape as a numinous experience – a religious experience – and a forerunner to the energetic awakening experience mentioned earlier, and the meeting with Christ as a vortex of energy in a recent post. The taste of the ‘peace which passeth all understanding’ I experienced as a 12-year-old has had to be rediscovered and reinforced over and over, a sacred calling which has now become a privilege rather than the impossible dream it once seemed.
I have procrastinated on writing this story for years, hoping the subject matter would disappear and release me from the task. That didn’t happen, and I find myself posting it on Easter Monday, the final day of the celebration of the modern world’s most well-known version of the ancient motif of the dying and resurrecting God-man. Writing it has been harrowing – what to put in, what to leave out, how to avoid sounding like a victim and demonising others – but it didn’t put me into a tailspin as it has when I’ve attempted it in the past. I have exceeded my preferred maximum word count for a blog post, yet what made it onto the page has barely scratched the surface. Still, I am content and hope it is of use.
A friend recently told me about a numinous dream she had just before a major life change and gave me permission to share it here. (Papaji was a renowned Indian spiritual teacher in the Advaita Vedanta tradition. Prasad is food that is first offered to an esteemed teacher, Guru, or deity, then consumed.)
~ * ~
The Gift
By Alison Walker
You know when a dream is important. You wake up and it is as if you just had the dream prior to waking. It is still vivid and alive in your body and your heart. It is still vibrating within you.
I dreamt that Papaji came to visit me. He looked so young with a slim body and dark hair. There was no mistaking him as Papaji. He came to me offering me prasad. As I took it, he said “Swallow it all.”
I awaken with a sense of wonder and awe. Was this a dream, or a visitation?
A few days later I met with Papaji’s western wife, Ganga Mira. I shared the dream with her. Immediately she said, “This is a visitation.” We both felt so moved we wept.
The visitation keeps giving. It is full of potency and unfolding wisdom.
Each day is to be swallowed without knowing why to anything. Each change or event might have a question within it, but in swallowing it there is the question, “Who is swallowing what.”
Moving across the world to live once again in Australia challenged any idea of how things should be. Nothing I thought, proved to be right. Swallowing it all means being the life that’s being swallowed, and who is it that swallows?
When life flows and is received just as it is, there is no one there that receives anything. Life flows, and as flow, everything is accepted without thought. A surrender is allowing, accepting, and absorbing everything. No one is there to resist or know better. “I” is swallowed whole in the vastness, the emptiness and richness of life.
Unexpectedly facing two operations in quick succession after arriving in Australia, it was an intense time, but supported by the message of the visitation. All this too is to be swallowed, the pain, the fears, the body identity, death. No choosing the menu! Everything that is happening moment to moment is to be swallowed whole and to be received fully as simply a flow of change.
Then, what peace is here, in the centre of the supposed worst and best. It is always here when knowing anything is dissolved with the one who knows!
In the early hours of Good Friday 2002, I dreamt of a gold coin dropping from a height into a bowl. The clattering of the coin as it bounced and spun around before settling, startled me awake. As I puzzled over it, an image of a rose appeared in my inner vision. It was a perfect, single, deep red rose bud with two sets of leaves. The image was crystal clear and lingered as I drifted off to sleep.
When I woke in the morning, I remembered the images and recognised the similarity of the bowl to the donation bowl at a labyrinth walk I had attended the previous night but the rose was a complete mystery. My interest was in Australian native plants and I had no particular attraction to roses. Intrigued, I found an image on the internet like the one in the vision and printed it off hoping it would trigger something. All that came to me is that I should go to the walk being held that night, which I hadn’t intended to. The friend who had been with me the previous night was happy to go again, so with that, the decision was made.
I told her of the dreams and showed her the printed image and as I sat waiting with closed eyes for the walk to start, she nudged me and said ‘There’s your rose.’ I looked up and a woman came in carrying a rose, a slightly different shade of red but identical in shape. The entrance to the walk had been set up with a selection of nails, prickly branches and candles to take into the centre but she had brought her own offering. I asked if I could have it after the walk. At first she refused, saying it was for Jesus but I explained what happened and she relented, as long as I put it with a cross.
I fashioned a cross out of a Grevillea branch and put it with the rose in a bud vase. I imagined it was trying to tell me something but I was clueless as to what it could be. On Easter Monday I decided to photograph it before it faded away. I dragged the cat tower under the skylight and positioned the vase underneath. Just as I was about to press the shutter, the cat leapt up and knocked the vase flying, shattering it into pieces on the hard floor. I grabbed the cat before she jumped down among the shards, shut her in the bedroom and with a sense of foreboding cleaned up the mess.
Although I never made sense of the chain of events at the time, it convinced me to start paying more attention to my dreams. I had been recording the copious dreams of the last five years and attending the Jung Society, hoping to learn how to make sense of them but hadn’t made much progress. Soon I found a subscription based, password protected internet forum run by Jane Teresa Anderson. Not long after that, my second marriage ended and I was left feeling shattered, just like the vase. The dreams and the forum became my lifeline and I had the sense that what had unfolded at Easter had been a kind of preparation for what lay ahead. The dreams proliferated as I paid more attention to them and the nightly dramas were interspersed with profound healing and guidance that were clearly coming from somewhere other than my personal unconscious. Slowly, Jung’s concepts of synchronicity, archetypes, the collective unconscious and individuation began to make sense and gave me hope that I could find meaning in the chaos.
Two years later another series of events, where I kept encountering twins in one way or another, brought me full circle back to the rose.
The initial incident was when a friend rang to tell me that her brother-in-law, himself a twin, had gone to see about a car for sale and the sellers turned out to be two elderly single ladies – identical twins – who had been his neighbours in another state many years before. Two days later I went to see another friend who asked if I wanted some movie tickets she’d won and couldn’t use. The movie was called ‘Twin Sisters.’ Another time I was in the supermarket when a young girl, who had been playing around with another child, crashed into me. When the little girl looked up and locked eyes with me, time seemed to slow down. I then noticed the child she had been wrestling with and saw her double.
Another time I was waiting in the stationers to use the photocopier and the woman using it apologised for taking so long. She was doing a poster made up of a compilation of photos for an 18th birthday party for the daughter who was with her and showed it to me as it came out of the machine. It was of two girls at various stages of their lives, clearly identical twins, which the mother confirmed, saying that the other daughter was at home. When I went to see the movie, there was an early scene where one of the twins, who had been separated from her sister, grabbed a bunch of roses from a vase in front of a statue of Mary in a grotto and threw them into the river in her rage at the situation.
This went on for a few weeks, I would either see twins, somebody would mention twins in conversation, or I would see media reports of twins. One day in mid June 2004, a friend rang to tell me about a TV series she had been watching and thought I might be interested in it. I turned on the television in order to set up the VCR and the first thing that came up on the screen was a show featuring identical twin girls. I then sat down to breakfast with the book I was reading at the time, which I had randomly picked up at a bargain table, called It’s a Miracle. It was a selection of stories from a US TV show of the same name, which I had never heard of. As I finished the story I was on, I turned the page in readiness for when I sat down again and the title of the next one stopped me in my tracks. It was called St Thérèse’s Twins. I had to read it then and there.
The story was of a woman pregnant with twins and at 6½ months learned that one of the twins was dying in the womb and not expected to survive. Coming from a Catholic family they prayed fervently to one St Thérèse of Lisieux who had promised to bestow a rose in an unusual manner if God allowed her to intercede. On Palm Sunday, a priest visited the mother in the hospital and offered to weave something out of the palm leaves her husband had brought from a church for her. Instead of the expected cross, the Priest wove two rosebuds which overnight loosened and gave the appearance of blooming. To the astonishment of the doctor, the malnourished baby from then on began to grow and the twins were delivered prematurely but successfully and thrived after delivery.
As I read the story, I wondered if there were a connection to my Easter rose and it piqued my curiosity. I found a trailer for a new film about this saint and as I watched, I burst into tears. To this day I don’t fully understand my reaction but it compelled me to do more research and I found that she had written an autobiography, available online. My plans for the day took a backseat and I finished the book in short order. I was captivated by Thérèse’s story, which had all the elements of a good drama but it was the authenticity of her internal struggles and her way of dealing with her emotionality through her strong faith that I found most inspiring. I did not have that kind of faith but I definitely had the emotionality and it had been a source of great distress my entire life. Not being Catholic, I had little idea of the significance of saints but my encounter with Thérèse led me to take more seriously the spiritual life I had been toying with sporadically over the previous few years. I eventually learned that her relics had been on tour in Australia at the time of the bowl and rose visions and had passed through Adelaide 6 weeks before. Was this merely coincidence?
I wasn’t used to praying but I learned of a special kind of prayer done over 9 days called a novena and getting a sign of roses sounded like an interesting experiment to try. It worked the very first time. I don’t recall who or what the prayer was for but in my journal I wrote that my sister came around with a bunch of roses the day after I finished it, saying she had got them from a neighbour because she thought it would cheer me up. She had no idea about the novena, as I felt somewhat sheepish about the idea and also didn’t want to jinx it. I have made several novenas over the years and though I have long surpassed the need for a sign, they come regardless and I am always delighted. I have also had some extraordinary ‘coincidences’ of roses at times when Thérèse has come into my awareness for some reason.
I thought with my discovery of Thérèse, the twin incidents would stop but they didn’t. I went to see the movie Twin Sisters a second time and enjoyed it as much but it still didn’t give me any further clues. One day I was out walking and from a distance I saw two young girls messing about with each other and one of them called out ‘Hello!’ I called ‘hello’ back. When I got closer, I could see they weren’t twins but I asked if they were sisters. ‘No,’ came the reply, ‘we’re best friends!’ With that, they laughingly threw their arms around each other and went on with their game. With that, the twin sightings came to an abrupt end but I couldn’t help feeling there was something I wasn’t getting. In the meantime, I kept up the dreamwork and eventually, prompted by a dream I wrote about here, returned to church and was baptised and confirmed in the Anglican faith. The period of church attendance eventually came to an end too, as my spiritual explorations took me into other areas.
Earlier this year I did an online course with Jason E Smith on Edward Edinger’s book Ego and Archetype through the Jung Archademy and I finally found the answer to the mystery of the twin saga. The core of Jung’s psychology is what he calls individuation, a lifelong process of becoming one’s authentic self. It is deep work, necessitating an engagement with not only the personal unconscious but what Jung called the collective unconscious – the transpersonal realm of archetypes that interpenetrates the personal. It is a constant process of engaging with the unconscious aspects of one’s personality and integrating them into consciousness, informed and guided by what Jung termed the Self, the archetype of wholeness.
Edinger’s book is a wonderful elucidation of this process and though I had read it several times, I had never got the whole gestalt of it. In one class Jason mentioned that in the Jungian literature when things are doubled, e.g. in dreams or in fairy tales, it signifies that something is becoming conscious. The penny (the coin?) dropped. It hadn’t occurred to me to view the external events of the twin sightings as the projection of an internal process because at the time I lacked the symbolic sensibility to recognise it. The twins reflected the split nature of my besieged psyche but as I realise now, it was also the beginning of true healing. All I wanted was a way out of the suffering and the work with dreams, the church attendance and other spiritual seeking, along with the intense study was driven by a desire for inner peace. Christianity calls this salvation, eastern systems call it liberation or moksha, Jung calls it individuation but it all comes back to the same thing – realising one’s authentic self and how it relates to the whole. Life crises are often initiatory events.
With this insight, I watched the movie Twin Sisters again and halfway through it, realised that it is precisely about this process. The orphaned twins were separated at 6 years of age, Anna going to a life of child labour on a farm in Germany and Lotte to a life of privilege in Holland. As adults, they were able to reconnect but their first meeting coincided with the start of the war and they were separated again. This time their physical separation was marred by ideological differences. Anna had become a Nazi sympathiser and Lotte betrothed to a Jew. Although Anna was eventually disillusioned by her own experiences of the war, Lotte could not accept her change of heart and refused to let her back in her life again. The theme of separating and coming together again, only to separate again played out in various ways throughout their lives until a chance meeting in their old age enabled Anna an opportunity to confront Lotte and they were able to reconcile their differences. At this point, Anna died peacefully in her sleep, curled up with her sister in a bed of leaves on the ground, where they ended up after becoming lost together when Lotte tried to evade her sister’s pursuit of her. The movie portrays exactly what happens in the psyche as it seeks to find its authentic self among the mass of conflicting influences from within and without.
Jung understood the vital role of what he called a religious attitude in this process and his psychology provides a way to navigate the void left when institutional religion doesn’t satisfy the inner yearning. In Psychology and Religion: West and East, he said:
I do not expect any believing Christian to pursue these thoughts of mine any further, for they will probably seem to him absurd. I am not, however, addressing myself to the happy possessors of faith, but to those many people for whom the light has gone out, the mystery has faded, and God is dead… It is certainly a difficult undertaking to discover connecting links between dogma and immediate experience of psychological archetypes, but a study of the natural symbols of the unconscious gives us the necessary raw material.
As I learned, the rose, the bowl and the gold coin are perfect examples of these ‘natural symbols of the unconscious.’ The bowl symbolises receptivity and gold symbolises immortality. The gold coin dropping into the bowl can be interpreted as the integration of spirit and matter, masculine and feminine, or union of sun and moon in alchemical symbolism. The rose has long been associated with Mary and considered the equivalent of the lotus in Eastern traditions as a symbol of the unfolding of higher consciousness. The thorns of the rose are associated with the crown of thorns Jesus bore when he was crucified.
It’s just as well I didn’t understand any of this at the time, it would have scared me to death but trust in the process has grown along with my capacity to assimilate what was presented and I have come to appreciate the essence of Thérèse’s message inStory of a Soul – what she calls ‘the way of trust and surrender.’
It is altogether amazing how little most people reflect on numinous objects and attempt to come to terms with them, and how laborious such an undertaking is once we have embarked upon it. The numinosity of the object makes it difficult to handle intellectually, since our affectivity is always involved.
~ C.G. Jung Answer to Job Paragraph 735 Ch XVl
This experience occurred 12 years ago but remains as fresh in my mind as when I had it. I call it a dream because I had it in bed at night but it had a sharpness and clarity that is lacking in both regular dreams and waking life. I didn’t wake from it – it came back to me in a flash in the morning. Its numinous quality alone was enough to etch it into my memory but it was the questions it confronted me with that has kept the memory intact. These questions are still not fully resolved; it is one thing to accept the reality of such experiences, quite another to thoroughly explore all the implications and integrate them fully.
I am approaching an energy field that I know is the source. It is not visible but I somehow sense it. My ‘body’ is a vortex of energy and is vibrating at a great rate. This is what has enabled me to get close to the source and as I near it, a form takes shape in front of me. It is as though my vibration has caused it to emerge. The form is the same as mine but has a masculine energy. We start vibrating in harmony and it is a wonderful feeling.
Without making contact, we slowly turn so that we are side by side. We are now looking out over a vast space. It is an inky darkness but illuminated as if by an invisible full moon and all is utterly still and silent. Vignettes of movie-like scenes of people going about daily life are scattered about in the space and with this being I am deciding which scene I will enter into. He is my adviser and is totally trustworthy. I know it is the Christ and we are communicating telepathically. I am like an excited child, asking “Can I really choose, really?” His response is the equivalent of “Yes, of course!”
I am radiantly happy with a feeling of complete freedom and understanding throughout the whole experience.
There were probably 12-15 scenes in the vision but I could only recall two clearly on waking. They appeared to be way off in the distance yet I saw them as clearly as if they were only a few metres away. One was of an American Indian campsite with a teepee and a campfire and a native woman in traditional clothing pottering about doing what appeared to be domestic chores. The other was the inside of a house with a stocky, grandmotherly looking woman in a long dress and apron tied around her waist attending to pots at a wood stove. My impression from the clothing was that it was around the early twentieth century but there were no specific details to indicate the location. I felt no connection with the first scene whatsoever but the second one was similar to the kind of house I grew up in. I only saw the back of the woman and didn’t recognize anything about her.
The intensity of an experience like this defies regular dream analysis but I attempted to make sense of it by doing a dialogue with the energetic being in which I asked if I had made a decision. The response was that I had but that no decision is final or irrevocable and that all life paths are fully negotiable and determined on a choice by choice basis. There was no indication as to what the decision was. The dialogue ended with this:
“It is impossible to make a wrong choice for I am with you always.”
And who are you?
“I am your fully evolved and whole Self.”
This threw me somewhat – Christ is my fully evolved and whole Self? What did that even mean? At that stage Christ was synonymous in my mind with Jesus and yet this figure was nothing like the initial vision I had in which the figure that appeared to me resembled my inner image of Jesus. Nonetheless it felt like there was a connection with that earlier vision along with a man who appeared often in various forms in my dreams. I had come to think of this man as my Jesus figure because he reminded me of the wise guide and friend that I had regarded Jesus to be before my rational mind rejected religion wholesale in my teens.
That this figure was really myself was rather difficult to swallow, along with the implication that I had actually chosen my life. For as long as I could remember I had said that if I’d had any choice in the matter I would not have been born and as I’ve shared elsewhere in this blog, suicide as an escape from the sufferings of life had never been far from my mind. I had often felt a sense of shame and guilt about this ambivalence towards life and did my best to overcome it but never quite managed to. I suspect now that this experience was a response to a yearning to find real meaning for my life and though it didn’t change anything instantly, it marked a turning point in that quest.
An experience a few weeks later brought both more clarity and more confusion.
I was doing an online course through a meditation teacher, which was a kind of spiritually based self-development course and was listening to an audio based on a Neuro-linguistic Programming exercise. The first part entailed determining my most important values and identifying and dissolving any fears that conflicted with them. I don’t recall a lot of the details of the exercise but the emotional impact of what ensued was deeply affecting and together with the previous experience had a significant impact on my attitude towards life.
My most important value boiled down to one thing at that time – knowing who I am and what I’m here for. The exercise involved identifying any impediments in the way and what I came up with is that ‘the search’ was giving me a reason to live, so therefore the fear was that if I was to realise who I am and what I’m here for, I would no longer have a reason to live. Kind of a no-win position to be in and completely irrational but as I was fast learning (still learning), the ego’s fear of its own demise is legendary and the rational mind really is pretty clueless.
The exercise involved assuming a ‘root cause event’ for the obstruction and intuitively deciding on whether the event occurred before (i.e. in utero), during, or after birth. The idea was to then picture my entire life as a timeline and view it from above, gradually increasing the distance until I was way above it and then send down a ‘double’ of myself into the situation to resolve it, while staying high up and far removed from it. I didn’t get to do this because the exercise took on a life of its own.
I found myself as a kind of disembodied pinpoint of consciousness, floating peacefully in empty space when suddenly my attention was drawn to a scene below and I saw a woman who I felt a strong connection with in the kitchen of a house that looked very familiar. She was pregnant and I knew that no soul had yet entered her womb. I understood everything about her and her life circumstances and knew that she felt bad about herself and had hopes that the baby she was carrying would help her mental state. I felt an almost desperate yearning to be that child and had no sense of anyone else lining up for the job. It was as though I was all alone in the universe except for this very compelling connection with a woman who I knew as intimately as myself. Along with the strong desire was a feeling that I wasn’t quite ready but that was completely overridden by the sense of urgency I had.
When the vision ended I remained in a state of reverie and various scenes from my life played through my mind, including a story Mum had been fond of telling: according to her, when I was around 9 months old I was hospitalized for malnutrition because I refused to feed. When she visited me in hospital, I was covered from head to toe in food from attempts to force feed me and she was so angry she grabbed me out of the cot and went straight around to the doctor to show him. Mum was rather melodramatic and I obviously have no memory of the event but I had suspected all my life that had she left me there I would have quietly exited planet earth. I had food issues, hospital phobia and separation anxiety my whole life until fairly recently.
As it happened, I’d had hypnotherapy a few years before this vision in an attempt (not successful, unfortunately) to resolve the severe migraines I was prone to. In one session, I found myself as a baby, in a scene where my mother was feeding me. I was vomiting and she was upset about it and I decided to stop eating to save her from being distressed. In light of the vision, it made sense that if my mission was to make Mum happy and I was causing her distress by regurgitating my food, then not eating was the solution to the problem. While I am not convinced that a 9mth old baby has the capacity to make such decisions, I am convinced that matters concerning the soul are decided in a plane of reality that is beyond the physical.
Though there is no way of verifying the authenticity of either the pre-birth vision or the hypnotic regression scene, subjectively they felt as real as any physical experience I knew to be true. They also made absolute sense in terms of the deep attachment I had to my mother. I had long felt that my love for her went way beyond anything that could be explained psychologically. Her death when I was thirty four left a hole that felt like it could never be filled. When I began having visions and dreams of her 12 years later it helped fill the void but even now it is the thought of being reunited with her that is my true solace. I am open to the idea of this being a symbolic event within my lifetime, i.e. a reunion with my inner ‘divine mother.’
These events confronted me in a graphic way with questions that had been posed to me 8 years earlier in a dream which I wrote about here – “The real questions are: where have you come from, what are you doing here and where are you going?” This was not long after my husband’s death and I was just beginning to grapple with the idea of an afterlife. The idea that life might also be pre-existent was completely foreign, so the only question that really interested me was “What are you doing here?” My response was to try and recreate my old life with a new partner. It hadn’t worked and these two experiences eventually became a joint catalyst for taking all three questions seriously. That meant making a real commitment to the spiritual path that I had been halfheartedly pursuing. It wasn’t a conscious decision at the time but in responding to the inner prompts in my own haphazard way I was led ever more deeply until one day I realized that the spiritual life, in spite of my years of rejecting it, had always been of central importance in my life. It is the answer to ‘What are you doing here?’
At the time I had these experiences it was hard for me to imagine that I would have actually chosen the circumstances I was born into. Did I really choose an alcoholic abandoning father and the shame, poverty and hardship that went with it? Did I know that my mother would be in and out of mental hospitals, resulting in the family being split up and billeted out to mostly unwilling hosts? Most vexing of all, did I know that I would fall prey to a paedophile uncle resulting in emotional problems that would take most of my life to sort out? I don’t have a satisfactory answer to these questions because it is obvious to me that individual choice is limited by the complexities with which lives intersect both psychically and physically. What I do know is that as I have worked through the tsunami of unconscious contents that was unleashed 23 years ago, life is making sense in a way that I never imagined possible when I was in denial of my soul life.
One of the real gifts of taking dreamwork seriously is that every life event, whether it happens in some form on the inner planes or in outer life, can be interpreted symbolically. A universally effective way of interpreting dreams is to regard the dream characters as being aspects of one’s self and that is the way I regarded both the energetic figure and my mother initially in order to make sense of them. In Jungian terms, in general, a figure of the same sex is regarded as a shadow figure and the opposite sex is regarded as the animus (or anima in the case of a male dreamer). In that view, the vision of my mother could have been a metaphor for me loving myself and giving birth to myself and the encounter with Christ could have been a meeting with my animus in its positive aspect. I have looked at these events every which way over the years and the way I understand them has changed as I have grown and changed and may continue to do so but regardless of any symbolic interpretation, I can’t help but regard them as having an objective reality. I do believe that I chose to be with my mother and I did have a real encounter with the being I know as Christ and these experiences helped to anchor me at a time when I was really struggling with ‘the point of it all.’ At the time, as numinous as it was and as inspiring as it was, I had a lot of resistance that prevented me from being able to fully accept and therefore integrate the meeting with the energetic being I perceived as Christ. The biggest blocks were ambivalence about the reality of this figure and distrust of the religion he represented. It has taken all this time to work through these issues but all the while the dreams have been guiding me and I do feel that the figure I met is working with me through them and has been with me all along.
This is the second Edward Edinger video. The first is here. In this video Dr. Edward Edinger discusses key aspects of Jungian depth psychological work and the implications for society as a whole. His explanation of the relevance for acknowledging and integrating the shadow, in particular, is very sobering. He was talking around 25 years ago here but with the phenomenon of social media, shadow projection has reached staggering proportions.
I first encountered the concept of the shadow through a book that was loaned to me (make of that what you will!) called Meeting the Shadow, an anthology edited by Connie Zweig and Jeremiah Abrams and published in 1991 – a few years before this video. I first encountered it around 2003 and I remember clearly walking along a footpath and chewing over what I had been reading when I noticed my actual shadow. I was walking due west and the morning sun was directly at my back and casting a very long shadow. I thought to myself ‘my shadow is leading the way.’ I didn’t realise it at the time but this was an intuition of what is often overlooked in the resistance to dealing with shadow (i.e. repressed) material. For one thing the shadow, when it is worked through, contains much valuable material and for another, not all repressed contents are of a dark nature. We repress many desirable qualities along with those that are unwanted. This is the truth I am finally realising.
Edinger Interview on Social Relevance of Jungian Psychology
0:00… Now I’d like to say a bit about what it means – as one progresses in the process of self knowledge – what it means to learn about each of those items that go to make up the structure of the psyche that I spoke of earlier.
Let’s start with the ego – that’s the starting point for everything. One of the goals of the life process, just the natural life process, as well as the analytic process, is maximum ego development. One can have no real analysis, one can have no real confrontation with the unconscious, until one has a sturdy, responsible and ethical ego prepared to have that encounter. Before that there’s no question of depth analysis, all that is available is a supportive psychotherapy that promotes ego development. You see it’s vitally important, just considering the social aspect of the matter, that the members of society have good, strong, reliable egos. That means they have to have an authentic sense of their own identity, they have to have acquired a responsible character structure that enables them to function responsibly in relation to other people. That’s all a product of ego development, so just to start with good ego development is not only good for the individual, it’s good for the society that the individual’s a part of.
2:25…Awareness of the Persona
Then the question of the persona. What value is awareness of the persona to the individual and society? Here again as with all self knowledge, both the individual and society benefit. You see it commonly happens, that to a greater or lesser extent, an individual is identified with his persona. It’s so convenient. It’s hard enough to acquire competence in a professional career and once that has been achieved, the satisfactions of that achievement are often so significant that there’s a strong tendency for the individual then to identify with the professional persona that one learns in the course of his professional training. So, the minister learns his persona as he goes through theological seminary and then starts his first job as assistant pastor. The medical student learns the medical persona, the lawyer learns his and so on and once that’s learned it makes things work so smoothly to operate out of it that there’s a strong tendency to identify with it.
But the trouble is, for society as a whole, that when one meets one’s doctor, or one’s pastor, or one’s lawyer, or whatever, one isn’t meeting a full human being, you meet the mask. I’ll speak for my own profession, I won’t belittle any other profession that I don’t know but I can tell you that it’s a real problem in the medical profession. Doctors are very busy and it takes too much time to be real. It’s much easier to function out of your medical persona. The great advantage of it – the temporary advantage is – it’s like skating on a pond of frozen ice, it doesn’t take any effort, you don’t have to respond out of deeper human realities and you can get a lot more work done in a day, you see. You can see more patients. If you take time to listen to them and respond to them humanly you get caught up and you’re way behind in your schedule.
It’s all understandable but if self knowledge is to proceed and if individuals are going to achieve full, well rounded human potentiality, it’s important for them to discover the reality of the persona and the fact that it’s not identical with the ego and that if they choose to identify with it now and then they are diminishing themselves both psychologically and humanly and once those things become known then the initial identification is broken and even though one may have to operate out of that persona at times, then you know what you’re doing and it makes a world of difference whether you are doing it consciously or unconsciously because choice is involved.
6:52… Awareness of the Shadow
Then turning to the next item – the shadow. What’s the social advantage of being aware of the shadow? I can tell you it’s immense because as long as one is unconscious of the shadow almost infallibly it gets projected. It gets projected onto somebody that provides some hook, some quality, maybe only in small degree that corresponds to the nature of one’s own shadow and when that happens the projector has the delightful experience of locating evil – it’s out there, in you. Now I know what to attack in order to make the world a better place and so in lesser shadow projections I guess no great harm is done, it’s an abrasion in the general mechanics of ordinary human relationships but once it starts operating on a large collective scale, shadow projection can be disastrous and I hardly need to spell out the examples of it because they’re everywhere to be seen, where you’ve got one faction opposing another faction and attributing dark, evil, if not diabolical, implications on the enemy faction.
We see this everywhere in the world and I’m not going to go into the details but this is all a consequence of shadow projection and it’s really a disgrace for an educated and supposedly relatively mature human being to be caught engaging in a crude shadow projection in this day and age. But disgrace or not, it happens all the time and it’s a grave damage to our social fabric. So to the extent that an individual, through the analytic process, becomes aware of his shadow he is then inoculated from shadow projection because he recognises that the particular quality, or idea, or mode of living, that is so annoying to him in the other person is an expression of his own shadow, which accounts for the annoyance. We can have likes and dislikes but when a certain level of affect enters the picture, that’s an infallible indication of a shadow projection and people unconscious of their shadows are a grave danger to the welfare of society as a whole.
11:11… Awareness of the Anima and Animus
Now, turning to the animus and anima – we’re reaching a deeper layer now and here the social aspects cannot be spelled out in such simple terms. They’re present but they’re more complex and occult and a little harder to express but certainly we can say that an individual who has even a rudimentary awareness of the reality of the anima or the animus is going to have a more authentic, a more conscious, a more fruitful and realistic relation to the opposite sex and after all, that relationship between the sexes is quite fundamental to the whole social process. The family is based on it and the raising of children and the welfare and psychological early development of children – that is very dependent on the level of conscious relationship that exists between the parents. That type of understanding relationship that can endure the inevitable conflict between the opposites of the sexes is very much promoted and helped by an awareness of the animus and anima because with that awareness then one avoids the crudest of projections and can relate to the partner in terms of their reality rather than in terms of the illusory expectations one has when one has projected the anima or animus onto the partner.
13:45… Awareness of the Self
Now coming finally to the question of the Self – the awareness of the Self. The Self is the centre and totality of the psyche. One of its synonyms is the inner God-image. It’s the transpersonal authority of the psyche. The ego is the smaller authority and the Self is the larger authority. When one has made a contact with the Self, the ego then becomes relativised and recognises that its life must be governed by an authority higher than itself. Now what does such a recognition have to do with society? A great deal indeed. In a certain sense we can say that society is the exteriorised mirror of the psyche. Every society has a leader of some sort. At one stage it was the king or the President. Occasionally it’s an oligarchy of aristocrats but always in order for a society to be cohesive and exist organically, it has to have a central authority and that central external social authority is a mirror of the inner authority of the Self. That’s why when one has dreams of a king, or a President, or of Washington DC, in most cases those dreams refer to the Self.
So what’s at issue here is the individual’s relation to authority. If one has no connection to the Self and particularly when the ego is weak – when there’s low level of psychological differentiation – especially in times of social turmoil and distress, there is a strong tendency for the Self – the central organising authority/principle of the psyche – to be projected. Because in times of turmoil the compensatory aspect of the psyche activates and turmoil then tends to constellate order. Disorder constellates order and order in such circumstances often has to be imposed with some level of discipline and authoritarianism. And so what can happen in such cases then is that one gets massive collective projections of the Self onto the leader – the Fuhrer, for instance. That’s what happened in Nazi Germany. It’s a – I’m looking for an adequate word to describe… it’s in a lesson of instruction of a magnitude that could hardly be exaggerated as to the danger of the collective projection of the Self. That’s what happened in Nazi Germany, we see it happening in all sorts of charismatic religious cults, it’s happening in small scale all over, scattered all around and as we lose our containment in our conventional religious myth, this danger’s going to become more and more operative and it’s probably the greatest threat to humanity – much greater than the nuclear bomb.
19:55… Transformation of the God Image
Jung puts it all very succinctly in Answer to Job when he says:
God needs man and encounter with man has an effect on Him.
Now that’s a symbolic statement. In psychological terms; the Self needs the ego and the ego’s awareness in relation to it, in order to be transformed. That puts it in our neutral psychological language. The Self, or the God Image, in its unconscious form, as I’ve said before, is a paradoxical union of opposites. This is the ground of our psychological being and the Christian God of love is only one half of it. That’s why Satan has never disappeared. He leads a separate existence but he’s still around and Jung has demonstrated that Christ and Satan are the two opposite sons of the same paradoxical deity and when these images come into the range of empirical experience, they require some reconciliation. You see, they generate an inner conflict that’s intolerable until it achieves a reconciliation and this is what happens when the individual encounters the primordial God Image in its paradoxical oppositeness. It experiences the activation of the conflict within the nature of the Godhead and since also contained within the whole dynamic is the potential for a union and reconciliation of those opposites, that can often be achieved in the individuation process by the process of Active Imagination and the net result then is that the psyche is no longer split.
The Christian psyche is split and that means everybody, whether you’re a professing Christian or not, it’s irrelevant, it’s part of the collective psychology we all share. We’re all split because the God Image is split and the split occurred even before Christianity – it was split by Plato and the Stoics, so that it’s got a philosophical source too. That split, that paralleled doubleness of deity, is what undergoes reconciliation and transformation when an individual human consciousness engages this depth issue in its own individual life. Then that little piece of the collective psyche that is carried by the individual has been transformed and if there are enough individuals who have had this experience and who have participated in this transformation of the God Image, then they act as a kind of leaven to society as a whole and very gradually a new collective God Image is born out of that society as a whole.
24:50…Is Christianity doomed?
You know the question often comes up in modern thinking, ‘Is Christianity doomed? Has it run out?’ Jung makes a very interesting point in that regard. He points out that the Christian myth itself contains as part of its thematic structure, the death of God. I want to see if I can spell this out because I think it’s of some importance. According to the Christian myth – and I elaborate all this in my book The Christian Archetype– according to the Christian myth, God – the God, remember that in psychological terms whenever I use the phrase ‘God,’ I’m referring to the psychological God Image. Psychology does not presume to know anything about the metaphysical deity. We’re talking about the psychological God Image which is within the range of empirical experience. But according to the Christian myth, God descends to earth by incarnating himself as a man through the agency of the Holy Spirit, who impregnates the Virgin Mary and God, as man, then lives a human life on the earth, incarnated. He goes through the passion, he dies and he’s resurrected and then ascends to heaven. So that in his incarnated form the myth describes the deity as passing through a death.
What then happens, after his death, according to the Christian myth, is that the Holy Spirit descends again on Pentecost and this time, according to the church dogma, the church is born. Pentecost is considered to be the birthday of the church. So that the incarnation cycle repeats itself. The Holy Ghost – the deity – descends and is incarnated a second time in the church which describes itself as the body of Christ. Then, according to certain theologians – this is stated explicitly – the church as the body of Christ is obliged to live out the same fateful sequence as did Christ. That means the church must also go through a passion and a death. Now the church projects that anticipation onto the last days, as far off as possible but considering this psychologically, we might consider that that’s happening right now, that the church as the body of Christ, the collective incarnation of Christ, so to speak – Christ was the first individual incarnation, the church was the second collective incarnation, who must also go through the passion and death and resurrection – and now according to my understanding, the resurrection will then initiate a third cycle in which the Holy Spirit will be now incarnating itself in empirical individual human beings.
That’s Jung’s point and as you can see, as I spell it out that way, that’s a consistent and quite appropriate continuation and reinterpretation of the Christian myth. Jung was very concerned that the treasure of the Christian myth not be lost to modern man and what he’s done is he’s provided a transformative and re-interpretive understanding of it, in his notion of continuing incarnation, which preserves all of the rich Christian symbolism you see but now understood on a psychological individual level. And this is my understanding of what the new epoch means and why Jung is an epochal man.
31:21… An Antidote
We are in for some very grave disturbances in the collective social fabric of Western society and Jung was keenly aware of that and he even made the remarkable statement, in a letter, that he wrote Answer to Job because he did not want his moral laxity to allow things to drift towards the impending catastrophe. What he revealed there and is expressed very clearly is that his book Answer to Job is the antidote to the apocalypse. If one can understand Answer to Job one would be in a position to survive psychologically the onslaught of the apocalypse of the transition from one epoch to another because he describes the psychological meaning of this collective event and what it means. Without summarising the book, which would be impossible in this setting, what it means is that a process is going on in which the God-image is undergoing transformation and the process of that transformation requires human awareness of the divine nature in order for that nature to change. That puts it in a nutshell. In fact I’ll repeat it. The essence of Answer to Job, which is the antidote allowing one to survive psychologically the apocalypse, is the realisation that the apocalypse is a process in the transformation of God in which, by means of entering human consciousness, the divine nature can undergo a transformation and change its nature.
It’s all spelt out in the Book of Job. I also discuss this matter in my little book on Blake’s engravings for the Book of Job called The Encounter with the Self. You see part of the divine nature – remember I’m speaking psychologically, not metaphysically. Psychologists know nothing about metaphysics, depth psychologists are good Kantians who recognise that metaphysical statements are beyond human possibility and so that they make no metaphysical assumptions at all, we’re talking about the psychological God-image – that that God-image is a union of opposites. It’s not only Christ, it’s also Satan. It’s not only Yahweh of the Book of Job, it’s also behemoth and leviathan and that paradoxical God-image with that dual nature is in the process of being transformed through being experienced by human consciousness. Being seen by human consciousness is the agent of its transformation – one individual at a time.
It’s not done collectively, not done in committee, it’s done one lonely individual at a time, who has the experience of the divine ambiguity and in the process of that experience penetrates that paradoxical Self with human consciousness which transforms it. This is the process I see now in its initial phases and which will continue with more and more intensity in the collective. You see, if we have more experiences of the same nature as the Nazi holocaust – those are psychological events. Those are expressions of the collective human psyche. They weren’t natural disasters; they didn’t fall out of heaven – they were psychological events. They are phenomena describing the nature of the collective psyche and that’s the kind of stuff that we’re in store for as we go through this catastrophic transformation from one age to the next in which the divine image is undergoing transformation.
38:23… Dr. C.G. Jung (excerpt from the film Matter of Heart):
The world hangs on a thin thread, and that is the psyche of man. Nowadays we are not threatened by elementary catastrophes. There is no such thing as an H-bomb; that is all man’s doing. WE are the great danger. The psyche is the great danger. What if something goes wrong with the psyche?
