Jung frequently insists in his writings that the inner world has reality, and that as a person, we have to adapt to those inner realities just as we have to those of the external world. But adaptation as such is only one step on the path to individual self-development.
What is the purpose of our lives? What are we here for? Following Hillman, here’s one way of looking at it: We are here to generate psyche. Our task is thus a creative one: we are meant to produce more soul; and we perform this creative job by getting into the activity of loving anima. This makes the generation of soul into something like the telos of ancient eudaimonistic philosophy: an idea...
In our lived experience we navigate both an external world of objects and a subjective stream of psychological states. This is how the surface of reality presents itself to us. But both the external world of objects and the subjective stream of psychological states have a certain depth to them: they exhibit recurring patterns.
Salvador Dalí famously rejected symbolic interpretations of the dream-like imagery in his paintings. Surely there is a good measure of funny insolence (and self-mystification) about this attitude, but it also has a serious and important point behind it.
The problem with projections is two-fold: partly, they falsify the object; and partly, they contain pieces of the subject’s own personality which should be recognized as such and integrated. Or, to put it differently: projections complicate both knowledge of the outer world and the inner world — knowledge of the soul, or self-knowledge.
When I wrote about projection and the mirror of Narcissus last week, I realized there is a hidden connection between some of the topics I recently discussed: the neo-Platonic mirror theory of eros, and Jung's notion of spirit.
If the mirror in the Narcissus myth stands for a "projection" which is dangerous, and should be avoided on pain of suffering Narcissus’ fate, then what exactly is it about "projection" which makes it so risky?
Today’s notion of “narcissism” as self-love, i.e. a conscious exclusion of any other as love object would fit, strictly speaking, the ancient Narcissus not after, but before gazing into the mirror.
In case in which coincidences are explainable by someone’s (hidden agenda), the sense of “meaningfuless” vanishes, and thus we no longer see them as synchronistic. Such cases are often described using the phrase “not a coincidence”.
What is the implication when we say, of a coincidence, that it is “just” a coincidence?
Leif Frenzel is a writer and independent researcher. He has a background in philosophy, literature, music, and information technology.