Carl Jung’s Memories and Dreams


A Very Short (Long) Part!

A needed Prologue!

At the beginning of my entrance on Facebook, I became a hungry member of many Egyptian groups. It was, of course, not because of my knowledge about this magical myth, but because of my brother Al who knew a lot about and highly acknowledged this topic. Mainly through his love for two great Egyptologists: Graham Hancock and Robert Bauval.

Although the idea that I could work with this and learn more went wrong! Unfortunately, the story of discovery in Egypt is so old that there are certain firmnesses based on some arrogant opportunists who think they have known every mystory and have found everything that there was to be found. I was so disappointed that I had to leave many of these groups.

Anyhow, a long-time connection to a Jung connoisseur, Mr Lewis Lafontaine, made me decide to do an experiment with a new search and Jungian groups. And my disappointment changed into a great encouragement when I found a group of Dr Jung followers, “Carl Jung and the Creative Bridge”. It was a door not only to my studies in the future but also a great help to look back inside my soul.

There it became much better when I met two excellent Jungian masters: Laurent Tremblay and Craig Nelson. They pushed me forwards on this topic, especially when Craig Nelson told us about five hundred pages found written by Carl Jung in German and asked for any possible help to translate them. I dared give my hand, and he dared trust in me! Of course, he gave me only five pages, and I tried not to disappoint him, though, putting it bluntly, these five pages brought me out of breath. It is somehow like notes or first-hand-write lines of his memories and hard to decipher. But I did it and recently edited it again (It was very necessary because I have found out how much I have learned in these past years!)

After refinement!

(PS: I would like to know what happened with these five hundred pages? Was it the Black Book?!!)

Now here it is, a heart-touching, inmost, honest and matey narrative by such a great Master. Enjoy!


Yesterday, I thought about my very earlier memories of my life. I was about two years old, and therefore, my memories are somehow vague. In fact, I found myself in a children’s carriage in the shadow of a house. It was a nice warm summer day, blue sky, and the sun was shining. I woke up in that splendid beauty. I see the sun glittering through the leaves and flowers of the house. This is my earliest remembrance, which was all incredible, colourful and gorgeous.

In the later time, between three and four in age, probably four or even five; there the memories are more on localities so that they can be better classified temporally. Instead, it is a vague remembrance of my first memory as I was in Präm and as I lay under the tree in the sun. The first definitive reminder is about a dream and its experience with a catholic priest. I naturally feel that the experience with paradise has been related to the other dream I’d had in four years.

The Vicarage (Pfarrhaus) stood alone at castle Laufen, and there was a big meadow (that’s but real and not a dream!). In the dream, I stood in this meadow, and suddenly I saw a dark, rectangular hole that was walled. I’ve not seen it before. Immediately I ran there and looked down. There I saw a stone staircase about one meter wide which led down to the 20 steps. Down was a vaulted room, and a green curtain covered a door. A big heavy curtain was like a knitted fabric, which I noticed that it was brocade-like and looked very rich.

I was curious to know what might be hidden behind it and pulled the curtain out. Then I saw there a rectangular room in the dusk light; there was not very much light but enough to see the details. From where this light was coming, I’d never know. The room was vaulted, the ground was covered with stone tiles, and a red carpet ran from the entrance to the narrow rear side at the end of the room. There stood a small pedestal at the end of the room. This room was maybe about five or six-meter wide and about twice so long or maybe ten meters long, and now at the end of the room, the opposite of the entrance, on the narrow wall led two-three steps to a podium and on it stood a throne, an excellent rich golden throne. I’m not sure, but maybe there was a red pad on it. A fabulous armchair was like a fairy tale, a genuine royal armchair. I’d say there was now something that lay; a tree trunk, with a diameter of 50 to 60 cm, a huge fabric that almost went up to the ceiling. It was 4 to 5 meters tall and had an eye on the top. Of course, not a head; the whole was an erected phallus. When I saw it, I heard my mother’s voice, whom I knew that she was not nearby. She called; yes, look at him now, the human eater! There I got a horrible feeling and awakened with fear. This emotion came back again in my experience with the catholic priest because the fear I felt with this sight wasn’t new to me; instead, it was as if I had thought it could be the human eater.

The experience was so; I (in reality) was playing on the stairs in front of the house, on the opposite side I saw a figure coming in a Soutane, I thought there was a woman, but then I recognized that he was a man. I also thought he was a Jesuit, got a terrible horror and escaped from the house, running to the floor where I crawled. I’ve got a deadly fear, and there, from floor windows; I looked out and saw nobody was around. When I was sure that nobody was there, I ventured out again. I’d horribly terrified, and as I remember my father was talking with his colleagues about how dangerous were the Jesuits, I surely didn’t know what that really was. The word JESUS I knew from my prayers. I thought; they were devils! Therefore, they are disguised. I would be embarrassed like in the dream about Phallus. Jesuit Catholics are “entirely different”. Later I took a trip with my parents to Arlesheim; I was about 6 – 7 years old then. There was a Catholic church, the first one I met.

I wanted insistently to go inside, but when I got through the door, I stumbled, fell, and injured my knee. It has bled, and I have screamed terribly. Of those days remained a great memory; that was when my father took me to Thurgau to meet friends. They had a castle at Bodensee. There, I was not to get away from water; the waves of steamers came to the shore, the sun glittered on the water, the width, an unimaginable pleasure, a glory without equal. At that time, an idea was established for me that I must live at a lake. Man cannot live without water at all! I’ve told nobody about the dream of Phallus in my youth. The Jesuit also belongs to this secret. From then rose some doubt on me, in that time that the religious teaching was impressed in my head and they kept saying; it’s nice, it’s beautiful, and I kept thinking that there’s but another secret which the people didn’t know. And this “another” had to do with Catholic Church. That was (counter throw); it was that another Extreme. I’d associated my childhood experiences with the Catholic Church for a long time. I couldn’t enter a Church without a secret fear of the Jesuits and the falling, blood of falling, and Jesuits! It was the clay in which it was surrounded. But it had always fascinated me. When it was called the people there were Catholics, I could not help feeling a secret fear, and it remained.

Then I remember, as I still was very young, have got disgusting eczema on my body for a long time. I couldn’t sleep so well and be often crying. As I remember, when I was about three years old, my father took me in his arm and carried me in the room up and down and sang his old student songs. I remember one of them in particular because I liked it very much and it calmed me. It was the so-called father’s countryside song: “All be silent! Everyone now inclines his head to this tone.” It began somehow with these words; I can clearly remember his voice as he sang over me.

Around eczema, it occurs to me that I’ve got many injuries; once I almost fell through the terrain of the railway bridge in the Rhein River; my nanny could just hold me (at the last moment) on my rock climbs! I’ve always got a big scar on my head all through to my puberty. This hung together with the relationship between my parents. It didn’t work well; my mother left us for an extended period, maybe some months. I can remember that a nanny had taken care of me, and also remember how she took me in her arm and how I laid my head on her shoulder. She had black hair and olive-coloured skin. I mentioned that she’s different to my mother. This impression got to be later a component of my Anima, this Type. Strangely, my later mother-in-law came occasionally to take me for a walk.

When I was three or four years old, we came to Basel. There, on the other side of the Rhein, was a small village named Wörth. I remember a young, very beautiful, friendly girl with blue eyes and blond hair who took me for a walk around. It was autumn, and the sun shone through the golden leaves, and the yellow leaves were lying on the ground. This was my first impression of my later mother-in-law. She was living in this village which belonged to my father’s Parish. My mother was away for months; therefore, I felt distrust when I heard the word “Love”. I always felt distrustful when I heard this. To me, the sense of female was unreliability; man can never rely on it. “Father” meant for me reliability and faint! This is the handicap which I have started with. Later, this impression was revised; I believed that I’d got friends and was disappointed by them. I was mistrustful in front of women, and I’ve not been disappointed!

In the New Year 1875=76, we’d moved to Laufen and Basel in the winter 1978=79. But I have no remembrance of moving out.

 There is but another memory; on a lovely summer evening, my mother took me outdoor and showed me the Alpines mountain range; you could see them clearly every nice evening; “lueg jetz dert, die Bärg sind alli rot” (Look now there; the hills are all red!) There I saw them aware for the first time, then I heard about an excursion would take part up there, and I wanted to be among them, and I was unfortunate when they said I’d be too young to go with.

In another memory, as I can remember, a girl ran into the house and said that the fishermen had landed (got) a corpse and asked if she could keep it in the “Buchihuus” (washhouse). This house is still there. I was very interested and wanted eagerly to see this corpse, though my aunt had strictly prohibited me from doing this. But I’d broken out and did go there to this house. The doors were locked; I looked around the house and saw an outlet of the washhouse, water and blood was coming out of it, and I found it very interesting!

 And the other memory; I sat on a high children’s chair in the eating room in vicarage before a cup of hot milk with bread crumbs in it. This had a very characteristic odour, and those days it was for the first time that I became aware of it. That was momentary in which I became conscious of smell.

 That was one of my earliest memories…..

Somehow, if I am still learning to find my way, I have known at least one thing well!! 😉🤗🙏 💖💖

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