Honestly, if I had to choose a prophet and a holy book, I would go for Carl Gustav Jung and The Red Book, respectively. In The Red Book, Jung speaks about his encounter with the Self, his “Self”, and his journey through the desert, much like a prophet, accompanied by his ego but ultimately alone.

As I have shared of them here, Carl Jung, in his books, wrote his explanations in a way that could be understood, or at least he tried to do so. But in sharing his insights (as he did in The Red Book), Carl Jung aimed for clarity and understanding. However, his words carry a strong emotional resonance that may not be immediately apparent to some readers. It’s important to read between the lines and approach his ideas carefully rather than taking them at face value. (I have some examples on FB’s Jungian groups; I wonder what some people are doing there?!)

I want to share a section of this remarkable book. Let us strive to be mindful of our surroundings and reflect on how they align with our inner emotions.

(The images are written in the original language)

We are miserable without you and wear out our songs.
We spoke all the words that our hearts gave us.
What else do you want?
What else shall we fulfil for you?
We open every door for you.
We bent our knees where you want us to do.
We go to all points of the compass according to your wish.
We carry up what is below, and we turn what is above into what is below, as you commend.
We give and take according to your wish.
We wanted to turn right but go left, obedient to your sign. We rise, and we fall; we sway, and we remain still; we see, and we are blind; we hear, and we are deaf; we say yes and no, always hearing your word.
We do not comprehend, and we live incomprehensibly.
We do not love, and we live the unloved.
And we evolve around ourselves again and comprehend.
We love and live the loved, true to your law.

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Come to us, we who are willing from our own will.
Come to us, we who understand you from our own spirit.
Come to us, we who will warm you at our own Fire.
Come to us, we who will heal you with our own art.
Come to us, we who will produce you out of our own body.
Come child, to father and mother.

We ask Earth. We ask Heaven. We ask the Sea. We ask the Wind. We ask the Fire.
We looked for you with all the people.
We looked for you with all the kings.
We looked for you with all the wise.
We looked for you in our own heads and hearts.
And we found you in the egg.

I have slain a precious human sacrifice for you,
a youth and old man.
I have cut my skin with a knife.
I have sprinkled your altar with my own blood.
I have banished my father and mother so that you can live with me.
I turned my night into day and went about midday like a sleepwalker.
I have overthrown all the Gods, broken the laws, eaten the impure.
I have thrown down my sword and dressed in woman’s clothing.
I shattered my firm castle and played like a child in the sand.
I saw warriors form into line of battle, and I destroyed my suit of armour with a hammer.
I planned my field and let the fruit decay.
I made small everything that was great and made everything great that was small.
I exchanged my furthest goal for the nearest, and so I am ready.