Just Taking a Breath!

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Since I will be away from tomorrow until Saturday, visiting a friend and attending a concert together, I’ll just say hello and goodbye with my best wishes.

It will be a welcome change of pace in these turbulent times, though my friend is also Iranian, so there will definitely be some deep discussions.

Dr Jung’s philosophy (thoughts) suggests that a “break” often serves as an invitation to explore the unconscious, encouraging a shift from merely doing to a state of being.

“As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being”.

Dr Jung’s insight about the nature of existence is thoughtfully highlighted at the conclusion of his Life and Death chapter in Memories, Dreams, and Reflections:

Our age has shifted all emphasis to the here and now, and thus brought about a daemonization of man and his world.
The phenomenon of dictators and all the misery they have wrought springs from the fact that man has been robbed of transcendence by the shortsightedness of the super-intellectuals.
Like them, he has fallen victim to unconsciousness.
But man’s task is the exact opposite: to become conscious of the contents that press upward from the unconscious.
Neither should he persist in his unconsciousness, nor remain identical with the unconscious elements of his being, thus evading his destiny, which is to create more and more consciousness.
As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.
It may even be assumed that just as the unconscious affects us, so the increase in our consciousness affects the unconscious.
~Carl Jung, MDR, Page 326.(Via carljungdepthpsychologysite.blog, with thanks)


The band we’re meeting is called UFO, and they’re roughly my age, although the videos below are from their earlier years.

Do it well, do it better. 🤗💖🙏

Jiddu Krishnamurti: The Philosopher Who Rejected Authority

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I think it’s time to set aside our current critical perspective on life for a moment and take a deeper look. Jiddu Krishnamurti can gently guide us and help us see things anew.

Jiddu Krishnamurti (1895-1986) was a prominent spiritual teacher and philosopher, famous for his rejection of organised religion, gurus, and spiritual authorities, including his own. Born in colonial India, his life changed when members of the Theosophical Society recognised him as the expected “World Teacher.” In 1929, at age 34, he disbanded his organisation, stating that “truth is a pathless land” and no belief system ensures understanding. Over more than sixty years, Krishnamurti travelled globally, giving talks on the mind, consciousness, and suffering. His teachings emphasised direct observation and awareness, urging questioning of authority to achieve psychological freedom. He believed that the separation between the observer and the observed causes conflict. He encouraged living without fear, exploring love and relationships, and transforming consciousness. His legacy includes books, talks, and schools, inspiring individuals to seek truth from within rather than externally.

Jiddu Krishnamurti’s Parables and Poems

Jiddu Krishnamurti’s parables and poems are central to his teachings, offering glimpses of truth through imagery and metaphor rather than through direct argument. These works appeal to intuition and feeling, promoting immediate perception, often inspired by nature—such as a flower blooming or a bird flying—while highlighting his core idea that truth is perceived directly rather than through thought or belief. They do not explain but point, creating space for sudden insights beyond words. His poems share this sense of immediacy; they are simple, unembellished, emerging from attentive presence—watching, listening, and being aware. Their language is calm, observing without a separate observer, often dissolving the boundary between seer and seen, reflecting his teaching that authentic perception occurs only when the self is absent. These works are essential because they echo his main message: transformation arises through direct insight, not through knowledge. Instead of enriching conceptual understanding, they invite us to set aside concepts, to observe, listen, and remain present without interpretation. His literary works might be his most genuine expression—offering not solutions but gateways to experience.

Once upon a time, when there was great understanding and in a world full of rejoicing, there lived a gentlewoman full of years. One day, she found herself in a temple before an altar made by human hands. She was crying bitterly to heaven, and none was there to comfort her, till in the long last, a friend of God took notice of her and asked the reason for her tears. “God must have forgotten me. My husband is gracious and well. My children are full and strong. Many servants are there to care for us. All things are well with me, and mine own. God has forgotten us.” The friend of God replied, “God never forgets His children.” When she came home, she found her son dead. She
never cried. “God remembers me and mine own.”

Every step we take in life lays the foundation for the experiences we gather. Krishnamurti soon recognised these and attempted to share his experience with us.

A HYMN

I have stood in Thy holy presence. I have seen the splendour of Thy face. I prostrate at Thy sacred feet. I kiss the hem of Thy garment, I have felt the glory of Thy beauty. I have seen Thy serene look.
Thy wisdom has opened my closed eyes. Thine eternal peace has transfigured me.
Thy tenderness, the tenderness of a mother to her child,
The teacher to his pupil, I have felt.
Thy compassion for all things, living and non-living, the animate and inanimate, I have felt.
Thy joy, indescribable, has thrilled me.
Thy voice has opened in me many voices.
Thy touch has awakened my heart. Thine eyes have opened mine eyes.
Thy glory has kindled the glory in me.
Master of Masters, I have longed, yea, yearned for this happy hour, when I should stand in Thy holy presence.
At last, it has been granted unto me.

I am happy. I am peaceful, peaceful as the bottom of a deep, blue lake. I am calm, calm as the snow-clad mountain-top above the storm clouds.
I have longed for this hour; it has come.
I shall follow humbly in Thy footsteps along that path
which Thy holy feet have trodden. I shall humbly serve the world, the world for which
Thou hast suffered, sacrificed and toiled. I shall bring that peace into the world. I have longed for this happy hour; it has come.

Thine image is in mine heart.
Thy compassion is burning in me.
Thy wisdom guides me.
Thy peace enlightens me.
Thy tenderness has given me the power to sacrifice.
Thy love has given me energy.
Thy glory pervades my entire being.

I have yearned for this hour; it has come, in all the
splendour of a glorious spring. I am as young as the youngest. I am as old as the oldest.
I am happy as a blind lover, for I have found my love. I have seen.
I can never be blind, though a thousand years pass. I have seen Thy divine face everywhere, in the stone, in the blade of grass, in the giant pines of the forest,
in the reptile, in the Hon, in the criminal, in the saint. I have longed for this magnificent moment; it came and

I have grasped it.
I have stood in Thy presence.
I have seen the splendour of Thy face.
I prostrate at Thy sacred feet.
I kiss the hem of Thy garment.


Thanks a lot for visiting and for your time in reading! 🙏💖🙏

My (Carl Jung’s) Most Difficult Experiment [p. 4]

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I had a dream a few weeks ago, and surprisingly, I still remember it clearly. Usually, I forget my dreams the moment I wake up, but this one is vividly etched in my mind. In the dream, a bird flew elegantly through my room. She looked like a hummingbird, but much larger. She stared at me as she was facing the window. I suspected that I knew her well.

She gazed at me for a while before flying away; I don’t know where, but somehow she disappeared right before my eyes.

It reminded me of a dream Dr Jung once described. However, his bird was transformed into a child and could speak; mine did not, but I believed she was wise and knew many things.

Carl Jung’s dream of a white bird transforming into a girl, often a dove or gull, was a key vision from his Black Book. It signalled his break with Freud, marked his dive into deep psychological work, and symbolised the soul’s link to the spirit world, spiritual change, and the union of opposites within the Self. Featured in The Red Book, the dream showed birds as messengers of the soul, bridging conscious and unconscious, representing freedom, wisdom, and the’ higher self”.

I would now like to reiterate his dream, which I presented in the first part, because it is remarkable.

I dreamt at that time (it was shortly after Christmas 1912) that I was sitting with my children in a marvellous and richly furnished castle apartment – an open columned hall – we were seated at a round table, whose top was a marvellous dark green stone. Suddenly, a gull or a dove flew in and sprang lightly onto the table. I admonished the children to be quiet so they would not scare away the beautiful white bird. Suddenly, this bird turned into an eight-year-old blond child and ran around, playing with my children in the marvellous columned colonnades. Then, the child suddenly turned into the gull or dove. She said the following to me: “Only in the first hour of the night can I become human while the male dove is busy with the twelve dead.” With these words, the bird flew away, and I awoke. (Black Book 2, pp. 17-18)

Key Elements of Jung’s Bird Dream:
The White Bird: Symbolises the soul, spirit, or divine feminine (Anima), depicted as a dove or gull.
Transformation: The bird turning into an eight-year-old blond girl playing with his children represents the soul’s embodiment and interaction with earthly life.
The Message: “Only in the first hours of the night can I transform myself into a human being, while the male Dove is busy with the twelve dead” highlights the unconscious’s link to the spiritual realm and the soul’s hidden work.
Context: This dream from around 1912 helped Jung realise the collective unconscious archetypes and influenced his relationship with Toni Wolff.
Broader Jungian Bird Symbols:
Archetypal Connection: Birds link earthly and spiritual realms, symbolising transcendence, consciousness, and freedom.
The Self: Birds often symbolise the Self, representing wholeness and inner guidance.
Individuation: Birds symbolise Jung’s concept of individuation—integrating archetypes to achieve wholeness.
Language of Birds: In dreams, birds speak a symbolic language that reveals hidden meanings and psychic realities.

Jung’s bird dream was a profound encounter with his own unconscious, initiating his personal myth-making and laying the groundwork for his analytical psychology.

I know that one day, if I am still alive, I will continue this never-ending story, though there is another “never-ending story” in which I am fully involved! Enjoy your peaceful lives. ✌💕🥰

The World of Fairy Tales: A Parallel World Second to Ours?

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via Petra Glimmdall

In my view, during Christmas, fairy tales feel more meaningful and relevant than at any other time. I’m not sure why; perhaps because love and forgiveness are more apparent, and the longing, wishing, and hidden desires gain greater strength to make dreams come true.

We often believe fairy tales are purely imaginary, but what is truly real? Who can definitively prove that events involving elves, gnomes, fairies, leprechauns, gorgons, mermaids, and similar beings have never occurred? We can’t be certain, but fairies are an excellent gift for enhancing and refining our “Weltanschauung,” or worldview.

Fairy tales have captivated audiences for centuries, creating worlds of wonder and possibility that spark the imagination. Usually set in enchanted realms with talking animals, brave heroes, and clever villains, they do more than entertain—they inspire us to dream beyond reality’s boundaries. Central to every fairy tale is the power of imagination. Through fantastical adventures and impossible feats, they encourage us to envision worlds where anything is possible. Castles floating in the clouds, animals speaking with wisdom, and ordinary characters changing their fates with a clever wish or brave act—all stimulate creativity and expand our view of what the world could become. Additionally, fairy tales offer a safe space to explore complex emotions, moral challenges, and the victory of good over evil. They teach important life lessons while nurturing imagination, empathy, and resilience. Ultimately, fairy tales show us that with imagination, even the toughest challenges can be overcome, and that magic exists in everyday life.

Now, as Christmas Eve approaches, let our imagination take flight—fly freely to Neverland and Wonderland; may we find joy and peace.

Wishing everyone a peaceful and serene Christmas Eve. Sweet dreams to all!😉🥰🙏💖

Observing the Depths from Below!

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I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness will find banks full of roses beneath my cypresses. The higher we soar, the smaller we appear to those who cannot fly.
~Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Understanding duality and the existence of opposites is essential for comprehending both our world and ourselves. Today, I often see the phrase ‘We are good & They are bad’ being misused and exploited. Good and evil are present within everyone!

Duality promotes understanding of the balance and tension between opposing elements, showing that complexity and harmony come from these interactions. Jung extensively studied duality, viewing it not just as external contrasts like light versus dark, cold versus warm, or above versus below, but as essential components of the human psyche and the process of individuation.

Jung says: Roots of Life reach into Hell. A core idea in Jung’s view of human existence is the concept of Duality and the Principle of Opposites. He argued that the psyche operates under the “principle of opposites,” meaning that every psychological concept or experience—such as light, warmth, consciousness, or life—inevitably has its opposite, like darkness, cold, unconsciousness, or death. The ongoing tension between these opposing forces is vital for psychological development and transformation. Dualities are not always entirely opposite; instead, they often depend on each other and define one another. For instance, light derives meaning only through its contrast with darkness. Many philosophies, including Taoism, highlight that these opposites are interconnected and mutually dependent, creating a balanced whole (yin and yang).

Jung’s psychology focuses on a fundamental duality between the conscious mind—associated with light, warmth, and awareness—and the unconscious, linked to darkness, coldness, and forgotten elements. The unconscious includes repressed or unknown parts, with the ‘shadow’ representing darker aspects we often reject or ignore. Recognising and accepting the shadow is crucial for achieving psychological wholeness.
The process of individuation involves integrating these opposites, acknowledging and reconciling them, rather than suppressing one side.
Jung explored myths, dreams, and alchemy, which frequently symbolised these dualities—such as sun/moon, king/queen, above/below—as part of psychic development. He saw alchemy as a metaphor for merging the conscious and unconscious components of the psyche.

Jung’s idea of duality illustrates how opposites are essential and creative elements of the mind. Concepts like light and dark, cold and warm, or the branches of a tree reaching upward and downward symbolise both external facts and internal truths. Personal development requires embracing these dualities to achieve a more integrated and authentic self.

An 1847 depiction of the Norse Yggdrasil as described in the Icelandic Prose Edda by Oluf Olufsen Bagge. Via Carl Jung Depth Psychology

He perceives the tree of life, whose roots extend into Hell and whose top reaches Heaven. He no longer distinguishes between right and wrong, holy and unholy, genuine and false, or good and evil. The only difference he recognises is between below and above: he sees that the tree of life grows from the ground upward, with its crown at the top, clearly separate from the roots. This view is unquestionable to him, and it guides his path to salvation.
To unlearn all distinctions except that of direction is part of your salvation. This liberates you from the old curse of knowing good and evil. Although you separated good from evil based on your best judgment, aiming only for the good and denying the evil you did- and struggled to accept it- your roots no longer drew dark nourishment from below, causing your tree to weaken and wither.
Therefore, the ancients said that after Adam ate the apple, the tree of paradise withered. Your life needs the dark. But knowing it is evil makes acceptance impossible, leading to suffering and confusion. You cannot accept it as evil, or your sense of goodness will reject you. Nor can you deny it, because you
know both good and evil. This knowledge of good and evil became an insurmountable curse.

But if you return to primal chaos and recognise that which hangs stretched between the two unbearable poles of fire, you will notice that you can no longer conclusively separate good and evil, neither through feeling nor through knowledge, but that you can discern the direction of growth only from below to above. You thus forget the distinction between good and evil, and you no longer know it as long as your tree grows from below to above. But as soon as growth stops, what was united in growth falls apart, and once more you recognise good and evil.
You can never deny your knowledge of good and evil to yourself, so that you could betray your good in order to live evil. For as soon as you separate good and evil, you recognise them. They are united only in growth. But you grow if you stand still in the greatest doubt, and therefore, steadfastness in great doubt is a veritable flower of life.
He who cannot bear doubt does not bear himself. Such a one is doubtful; he does not grow, and hence he does not live. Doubt is the sign of both the strongest and the weakest. The strong have doubt, but doubt has the weak.

Therefore, the weakest is close to the strongest, and if he can say to his doubt: “I have you,” then he is the strongest. But no one can say yes to their doubt unless they endure wide-open chaos. Because there are so many among us who can talk about anything, pay heed to what they live. What someone says can be very much or very little. Thus, examine his life.

My speech is neither light nor dark, since it is the speech of someone who is growing. ~Carl Jung, Red Book, Page 301

Thank you for taking the time to read. 🙏

Searching for the Eternal Girl/Boy P. 3 Puella Aeterna/Puer Aeternus and Corne/Senex

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I’ll borrow life and not grow old;
And nightingales and trees
Shall keep me, though the veins be cold,
As young as Sophocles.
And when I may no longer live,
They’ll say, who knows the truth,
He gave whate’er he had to give
To Freedom and to Youth.
~William Corey, Master at Eton c. 1850-1870

Success achieved, he never stays
For only by never staying does he not depart.
~Dao Tzu, Dao De Jing.

From Now or Neverland, p. 156

In this third part, let’s revisit the inspiring book, Now or Neverland, which motivated me to write these articles.

Here’s a brief essay on Now or Neverland by Ann Yeoman:

Ann Yeoman’s book “Now or Neverland: Peter Pan and the Myth of Eternal Youth” analyses the enduring charm of J.M. Barrie’s story, emphasising its psychological and mythological elements. She interprets Neverland as a metaphor for humanity’s longing to escape time and mortality. Yeoman considers Peter Pan an archetype embodying wonder and the peril of avoiding growth.
She explains that Neverland represents the myth of eternal youth—a place where responsibilities cease. This dream enables Peter to evade adult challenges but also leads him to miss meaningful relationships and personal development. Her study suggests Barrie’s tale celebrates youth but also warns against escapism.
In “Now or Neverland,” Yeoman encourages reflection on individual perceptions of time, change, and maturation, transforming a children’s story into a profound meditation on memory, imagination, and ageing.

Yesterday, I attended a birthday party for a dear family member, where my grandchildren were also present. I hadn’t seen them in a long time due to my illness and hospital stay. As always, I was the only adult the kids enjoyed playing with, because they knew the child in me well. It reminded me of what Yeoman mentioned in her book:

…Paradoxically, whereas lightness, freedom and space may be the necessary conditions for play, play itself is far from light, in that it has the capacity to ground one in the wholeness of one’s being. In a discussion of the importance of play in childhood, Anthony Stevens cites Johan Huizinga’s claim, in Homo Ludens, his work on the subject of play, that “in play there is something ‘at play’ which transcends the immediate needs of life.” This is because the archetypal activities of human life are filled with possibilities for play. Notes Stevens:

Hence, Schiller’s famous aphorism, “Man is only truly himself when he is at play.”
… Childhood is a period of immense vitality and inventiveness, when imagination is given free rein to complement the realities or compensate for the deficiencies of everyday existence…
It is one of the misfortunes of growing up that we readily lose touch with this rich land of childhood … Yet nothing is lost to the Self, and play, like the child who sponsors it, lives on as a propensity of the psyche to its dying day. (250On Jung, pp. 87f.)

What is of particular interest in our discussion of Barrie is Stevens’s emphasis that fantasy, as introverted play,

is the product of play between the archetypes of the collective unconscious and the living circumstances of the individual. . . . Fantasy is not a regressive means of escape from reality . . . but the modus operandi of psychological growth: it is the stuff of life, leading us on into the future. (251 Ibid., pp. 88f.)

Play and fantasy lead us into the future because they make us creators. They legitimise our re-formation and re-creation of the world, allowing us to remember and so re-deem the scattered fragments of ordinary life. They make us gods for an hour or a day, enabling an activity which affirms our sense of Self because it affords unlimited scope to our desire for realisation, fulfilment and creative power in a world of our own making that is secret and therefore safe. The task of the artist is then to establish a vital connection between the hidden world of possibility and the world of actuality.

However, according to Winnicott, the “place” of play and fantasy is precarious, “because it belongs to the interplay in the . . . mind of that which is subjective (near-hallucination) and that which is objectively perceived (actual or shared reality).” (Playing and Reality, p. 61)

…This place is the No-man’s land, an intermediary realm of the imagination that the artist must continually interpret and re-interpret. Here, one might encounter the god-child, buried deep in the personality. The challenge for the writer, like Barrie, who feels more at home in the imaginal realm, is to interpret such experiences within the real world. But in Peter Pan, Barrie’s two worlds remain as opposed at the end as at the beginning, with no space in the Edwardian world for the richness found in Neverland. Ultimately, Barrie cannot show that reality offers room for self-fulfilment, unlike other children’s classics such as Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows or Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh.

In Barrie, there’s an apparent devaluation of cosy domesticity and an iconoclastic streak visible in his work, especially in Peter Pan and other heroes resembling Peter’s mysterious presence. We find in Peter Pan the masculine energy of the trickster, a mythic figure known as a lawbreaker who embodies instinctual desires. (Barbara Greenfield, “The Archetypal Masculine,” in Andrew Samuels, ed., The Father, p. 192.)

The trickster often marks an early stage in the development of the heroic ego, reflecting nature’s transformative power while resisting change. Barrie’s hero also resists transformation, with little evidence of active sexuality or development beyond a boy-trickster to a mature hero or Wise Old Man. Instead, Peter Pan’s iconoclasm risks becoming an idol of boyish rebellion for its own sake.

(Ibid., p. 191. Greenfield argues that “The boy, Don Juan, and the trickster show us the ego in its early stages of development, while the hero, the father and the wise old man represent later stages of development. As a whole, the animus, or male archetype, unifies these disparate figures because it exists as those principles which underlie them all.” She suggests that the most powerful mythological forms of the masculine archetype are those of the father and the trickster, claiming the trickster as “an early incarnation of the father” rather than an archetype separate from that of the father, as it is treated by Jung. Her view supports our earlier discussion of the inherent similarities of Peter Pan and Hook and is useful when individual development and personal pathology are the issue. However, what we may describe as the “creative iconoclasm” of the Self in its impulse to further consciousness favours Jung’s treatment of the trickster and his recognition of its essential and constant role in the archetypal drama of the psyche. Perhaps this presents a case for “both/and” rather than “either/or” terminology; and for a concept of co-existing levels of activity rather than a more linear development from one stage to the next, with only faint traces of earlier characteristics evident in the later stages.)

Remember to cherish the child within you; thank you! 🙏

Everything is Relative; Even Happiness!

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Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That’s relativity.
~Albert Einstein

I was always sceptical about the concepts of time and space. As I explored Einstein’s theory of relativity, I realised that it encompasses not just time and space, but everything else as well, including happiness.

Indeed, it pertains to an individual’s life circumstances or, more precisely, it is linked to them. For example, someone living a stress-free and trouble-free life may experience a lack of happiness, but when faced with tough times, they may find happiness more readily.

My life has been filled with challenges, but this year has been especially tough. As you know, I had issues with my lower abdomen and underwent three surgeries to fix it, or so I thought. However, a problem arose when I went to the toilet, which caused concern, and I visited my doctor. After the examination, he stated that an apparent mistake had occurred during the last operation, a part had been injured, and I would require another procedure. I won’t go into the details, but after some anxious days, I’ve managed to secure a scheduled appointment for next Wednesday, as the procedure needs to be done soon to prevent kidney issues.

I gathered some insights and words from my teacher, Carl Jung, who held that the psyche and cosmos are fundamentally timeless. Working with Einstein and Pauli, he examined a concept of timelessness that goes beyond linear clock time. Jung proposed that accurate understanding involves transcending causality because time in the psyche and reality is relative. Although our conscious mind perceives time linearly, embracing a sense of timelessness can enhance learning. His goal was to unify physical and psychic realities and how they interact.

He believed in a psychological “relativity of time,” where perception is subjective and affected by inner states. He connected this to synchronicity, implying that the psyche and material world are not always ruled by linear cause-and-effect but can relate in other ways. Jung pointed out that, similar to the space-time continuum in modern physics, the unconscious also exhibits “indistinctness” or psychic relativity, which blurs the boundaries between time and space.

For Jung: “[Synchronicity] cannot be a question of cause and effect, but of a falling together in time, a kind of simultaneity. Because of this quality of simultaneity, I have chosen the term ‘synchronicity’ to designate a hypothetical factor equal in rank to causality as a principle of explanation.”
Jung, C. G. (1952). The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche; Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle, in CW, Vol. 8.

Now, what about happiness? I tell you this: when I go to the toilet and manage to pee, I feel the entire joy of life again and find happiness!

Humour plays a vital role, and hope remained until the very end. In my seventy years, I have enjoyed good health and no surgeries, but this year I face my fourth operation. Here’s to a brighter year ahead. Wishing you all health and prosperity.

My (Carl Jung’s) Most Difficult Experiment [P. 3]

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“We need a force not to start conflicts but to protect our nation and freedom. Therefore, making military service more attractive could draw more young people”. Said German Bundeskanzler Friedrich März a few days ago.
I wonder how and with what we can make being a soldier attractive. A soldier’s role involves killing; how can we make that aspect attractive?

I remember the 1960s and 1970s, during the Cold War and Vietnam War, when crowds gathered to protest against conflicts and advocate for peace. Over time, Western governments began to prioritise peace more and engaged in disarmament talks, seeking peaceful coexistence. Yet today, they focus on strengthening their military to defend peace and freedom!

What’s happening? Isn’t there enough war worldwide? Is Germany yearning for the glorious days of the 1930s? The facts appear this way!

However, this has always occurred whenever politicians become oblivious to the horrific machinery of war. Therefore, it might be meaningful to consider two of Jung’s dreams from before WWI, as excerpted from his autobiography. “Memories, Dreams, Reflections” describes Carl Jung’s dreams from 1913 to 1914. With thanks to Lewis Lafontaine. 🙏

In October [1913], while I was alone on a journey, I was suddenly seized by an overpowering vision: I saw a monstrous flood covering all the northern and low-lying lands between the North Sea and the Alps.
When it came to Switzerland, I saw that the mountains grew higher and higher to protect our country.
I realised that a frightful catastrophe was in progress.
I saw the mighty yellow waves, the floating rubble of civilisation, and the drowned bodies of uncounted thousands.
Then the whole sea turned to blood.
This vision lasted about one hour.
I was perplexed and nauseated, and ashamed of my weakness.

Thunder is no longer the voice of a god, nor is lightning his avenging missile.
No river contains a spirit, no tree makes a man’s life, no snake is the embodiment of wisdom, and no mountain still harbours a great demon.
Neither do things speak to him nor can he speak to things, like stones, springs, plants and animals.”
~ Carl Jung, CW 18, Para 585

Two weeks passed; then the vision recurred, under the same conditions, even more vividly than before, and the blood was more emphasised.
An inner voice spoke. “Look at it well; it is wholly real, and it will be so. You cannot doubt it.”
That winter, someone asked me what I thought were the political prospects of the world in the near future.
I replied that I had no thoughts on the matter, but that I saw rivers of blood.
I asked myself whether these visions pointed to a revolution, but I could not really imagine anything of the sort.
And so I concluded that they had to do with me myself, and decided that a psychosis menaced me.
The idea of war did not occur to me at all.
Soon afterwards, in the spring and early summer of 1914, I had a thrice-repeated dream that in the middle of summer an Arctic cold wave descended and froze the land to ice.
I saw, for example, the entire region of Lorraine and its canals frozen, and the whole area totally deserted by human beings.
All living green things were killed by frost.
This dream came in April and May, and for the last time in June 1914.
In the third dream, frightful cold had again descended from out of the cosmos.
This dream, however, had an unexpected end. There stood a leaf-bearing tree, but without fruit (my tree of life, I thought), whose leaves had been transformed by the effects of the frost into sweet grapes full of healing juices.
I plucked the grapes and gave them to a large, waiting crowd…

On August 1, World War I broke out!

Now, let’s continue with the next section, following (1, 2), about Dr Jung’s dreams and examining how a forecaster can predict potential human self-destructive plans. As mentioned in Part Two, Jung described hearing a strange woman’s voice in his mind and tried to analyse it.

He believed the voice was “the soul in the primitive sense,” known as the anima, and stated that he employed his analysis to write letters to his anima, experiencing it as both a ghost and a woman. He remembered this voice as that of a Dutch patient from 1912 to 1918, who convinced a colleague that he was a misunderstood artist. The woman had thought the unconscious was art, but Jung had maintained it was a natural phenomenon. The woman was likely Maria Moltzer, and the psychiatrist was Jung’s friend Franz Riklin, who shifted from analysis to painting, studying Augusto Giacometti in 1913. Riklin’s art was semi-figurative and abstract, with a notable 1915/6 work, Verkündigung, in Zürich, donated by Moltzer in 1945. Giacometti found Riklin’s psychological insights exciting, calling him a modern magician.

Franz Beda Riklin Verkündigung 1915, Wikimedia

The November entries in Black Book 2 depict Jung’s return to his soul. He recalled dreams that led him to his scientific career and recent dreams bringing him back to his soul. In 1925, he noted his first writing phase ended in November: ” Not knowing what would come next, I thought perhaps more introspection was needed… I devised such a boring method by fantasising that I was digging a hole, and by accepting this fantasy as perfectly real. ” This experiment occurred on December 12, 1913 (See Liber Primus, chapter 5, p. 147).

To be continued …………

Thank you for reading! I don’t want to spoil your mood, but sometimes thinking more deeply can help us and prepare us for the worst. While I am on my way to spend the holidays, please note that responses to comments, if any, may be delayed.🙏💖

Illustration art at the top: Dali-Inspired Dreamscape

A Collaborative Fusion of two Great Poets Exploring Human Curiosity. Could the answer lie in dreams?

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It’s a lovely day today, and it feels like summer is making one last bid to say goodbye. I was out in the garden, but not sunbathing – I had to mow the lawn! As tenants, these sorts of tasks are our responsibility.
And now, after giving the flat a good vacuum, I thought it was a good time to write a post.

Tomorrow is Leonard Cohen‘s birthday, and I thought it would be a great chance to celebrate with a poem by Pablo Neruda as a tribute.
The theme is human curiosity (the ‘Whys!’), how little we know, and, as Leonard Cohen suggests, why not stand on your own two feet and be your own individual?

There’s no doubt that they’re still alive, truly in our hearts, thanks to their lasting arts and wisdom.

Through a closed mouth, the flies enter
by Pablo Neruda:

Why, with those red flames at hand,
Are rubies so ready to burn?

Why does the heart of the topaz
reveal a yellow honeycomb?
Why does the rose amuse itself
by hanging the colour of its dreams?
Why does the emerald shiver
like a drowned submarine?

Why does the sky grow pale
under the June stars?
Where does the lizard’s tail
Get its fresh supply of paint?
Where is the underground fire
That revives the carnations?

Where does the salt acquire
The transparency of its glance?
Where did the coal sleep
That it awoke so dark?
And where, where does the tiger buy
Its stripes of mourning, its stripes of gold?

When did the jungle begin
to breathe its own perfume?
When did the pine tree realise
its own sweet-smelling consequence?
When did the lemons learn
The same laws as the sun?

When did smoke learn to fly?
When do roots converse?
What is water like in the stars?
Why is the scorpion poisonous?
Is the elephant benign?

What is the tortoise brooding on?
Where does shade withdraw to?
What song does the rain repeat?
When are the birds going to die?
And why should leaves be green?

What we know is so little,
and what we presume so much,
So slowly do we learn
that we ask questions, then die.
Better for us to keep our pride
for the city of the dead
on the day of the departed,
And there, when the wind blows through
the holes in your skull,
It will unveil to you such mysteries,
whispering the truth to you
through the spaces that were your ears.

I shall forever remember those days when Al and I closed many doors one after another to society, and by listening to Cohen’s songs, we immersed ourselves in our solitude.

Have a great time, everyone. 🙏💖🤗

Source: “Through a closed mouth the flies enter” from EXTRAVAGARIA by Pablo Neruda, translated by Alastair Reid. Copyright © 1958 Pablo Neruda and Fundación Pablo Neruda. Translation copyright © 1974 by Alastair Reid. Used by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux and Fundación Pablo Neruda.

Searching for the Eternal Girl/Boy P. 1 Puella Aeterna/Puer Aeternus and Corne/Senex

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Does fantasy lead to escape, or to the embracing of a new perspective? In other words, does it support psychic growth or impede it? That distinction is often complicated by paradox, but it helps to ask ourselves, “Is concentrating on this fantasy or daydream opening my creative possibilities, or is this sapping my ego strength in the real world?” ~Marion Woodman

This excerpt begins Marion Woodman‘s foreword from Ann Yeoman’s book, Now or Neverland, which I read some time ago, thanks to Deborah Gregory‘s recommendation, and I am very grateful for it.

Frankly, when I began reading this book, I felt at home; I saw myself as a puer aeternus, struggling to stay balanced on life’s rollercoaster.

Traditionally, the term ‘puer aeternus’ (Latin for ‘eternal boy’) is used to describe a child-god who remains eternally young. In Carl Jung’s psychology, it refers to an older person whose emotional life remains stuck in adolescence, often referred to as the “Peter Pan syndrome”. Jung suggests that the puer lives a “provisional life” due to a fear of being trapped. They seek independence, resist boundaries, and find restrictions intolerable. In Greek mythology, the term ‘puer aeternus’ originates from the Metamorphoses, an epic poem by Roman poet Ovid (43 BC – c. 17 AD) that explores Greek and Roman myths. Ovid refers to the child-god Iacchus as “puer aeternus” and praises his role in the Eleusinian mysteries. Iacchus is linked to Dionysus and Eros. The puer represents a deity of vegetation, resurrection, and divine youth, similar to Tammuz, Attis, and Adonis.

Senex is a Latin term that literally means “old man.” It can also be used to describe: a wise, elderly person, an archetype. The wise older person (also known as senex, sage, or sophos) is an archetype outlined by Carl Jung, as well as a familiar literary figure, often portrayed as a stock character. Such a figure can be a profound philosopher renowned for wisdom and sound judgment.

Marie-Louise Von Franz summarised her view of the puer as follows:
None of his reactions are particularly personal or special. He becomes a type—the type of the puer aeternus. He becomes an archetype, and if you become that, you are not at all original… He is merely the archetype of the eternal-youth god, and, therefore, he has all the features of the god: he has a nostalgic longing for death, he thinks of himself as being something special, and he is the one sensitive being among all the other tough sheep. He will have a problem with an aggressive, destructive shadow that he will not want to live with and generally projects. There is nothing special whatsoever. The worse the identification with the youthful god, the less individual the person, although he himself feels so special. (Puer Aeternus, pp. 121f)
Another type of puer that does not display the charm of eternal youth, nor does the archetype of the divine youth shine through him. On the contrary, he lives in a continual sleepy daze, and that, too, is a typical adolescent characteristic… The sleepy daze is only an outer aspect, however, and if you can penetrate it, you will find that a lively fantasy life is being cherished within. (Puer Aeternus, p.2)

Reflecting on my childhood, after my father passed away and my mother kept it a secret from my brother Al and me, I became very introverted. Once I learned the truth, I simply didn’t want to grow up. Al and I drew closer because of our mother’s lie, and over time, during our youth, we swapped roles as eternal children. Initially, I wanted to remain a child forever, while Al, aware of our father’s death almost from the moment it happened, tried to act as a mature older brother to look after me.

As we entered puberty, our roles underwent significant changes. I developed a strong sexual desire much earlier and believed I had to act like a man to attract girls, while Al began creating his own solitary world. For many years, this condition persisted. Although I was accepted into Al’s world and was part of it, I was the one who had to maintain contact with the outside world. As a result, I assumed the role of the senex, but I longed for my puer aeternus and tried to keep it concealed yet protected.

Let’s conclude this now, and I look forward to discussing this topic further in the next part. 🖖🙏