They say that the thought of dying alone causes such a horror in the human soul that it will go to great lengths to avoid it — even if it means to break out of the order of things, for a fraction of an instant. Now I’m a reasonable, grown-up person, and I’ve never given anything much about such talk. But lately, I’m not so sure anymore. I’ve come to believe that there may be something to it, that...
Is there a difference between spirit and soul? In his survey of what the term "spirit" means, Jung notes in passing that it is “common opinion that spirit and soul are essentially the same and therefore only arbitrarily separable”. And it is true that, in Jung’s work, the use of notions such as “psyche”, “spirit”, and “soul” seems at times arbitrary or at least vague...
There is a chapter (naturally) on smartphones and Instagram in Tim Wu’s "The Attention Merchants", his very readable and eye-opening history of the attention industry; its title: “The fourth screen and the mirror of Narcissus”. This choice is very apt indeed.
The archetypal idea of a “hidden meaning behind chaotic events in life” appears when subjects find themselves in certain types of situation: when it seems that “there is no way out”. Jung says this both in the synchronicities essay and in the spirit essay. Yet there is a third line of thought in his work which arrives at the same point, but via an entirely different route.
Jung’s two essays on synchronicities and on spirit in the fairy tale have a striking claim in common: that there is a “hidden meaning [Sinn] behind the chaotic events in life”. It will be interesting to compare how the two essays introduce the core finding: there is an interesting commonality, and one important difference.
There is in human experience a perennial contrast between the external world and the inner world, the interior. With both worlds, we interact; and to some small extent we can influence and control them. But mostly, they’re wide-open ranges of the unknown: abundant, overpowering, and utterly “other” than ourselves.
The distant mountain peaks began to glow in reflected sunlight, while the monastery sank into the shadows of the late afternoon. The old monk sat quietly on the terrace, contemplating both; but he didn’t fail to notice the soft footsteps, either.
I have explored, in some depth now, a particular archetypal idea: that “there is a hidden meaning behind chaotic life”. The way I have explored it was through Jung’s essay on spirit, which deals explicitly with it. But there is a connection between this idea and synchronicities, which Jung, it seems, didn’t make.
In the case of Spirit, Jung does not talk about an individual’s process of integrating archetypal contents as psychological functions: he claims that such a process happened as an overarching development in the history of the human species. That, of course, is a variation on an origin myth: a phantasy, projected backwards into history.
Inflation of consciousness (or 'ego-inflation') is a danger when engaging successfully with an archetype of the unconscious, and integrating its contents. May something like that have occurred when we integrated the spirit archetype, over those centuries of developing human consciousness?
Leif Frenzel is a writer and independent researcher. He has a background in philosophy, literature, music, and information technology. His recent interest is Jungian psychology, especially synchronicities and the relationship between consciousness and the unconscious.