Jung Lexicon

A Primer of Terms & Concepts

by Daryl Sharp

Copyright ©1991 Daryl Sharp
All rights reserved.

The Jung Lexicon has been made available to NYAAP through the
generosity of its author, Jungian analyst, Daryl Sharp, publisher and general
editor of Inner City Books.

The clothbound Jung Lexicon can be purchased with a credit card by
phoning BookWorld at 1-800-444-2524, or can be ordered on-line at: Inner City Books.



C. G. Jung died in 1961, without ever having
presented a systematic summary of his psychology. For the past thirty years his
ideas have been explained, explored and amplified by thousands of others, with
varying results.

Jung Lexicon takes the reader to the source. It was designed for those
seeking an understanding of relevant terms and concepts as they were used by
Jung himself. There are choice extracts from Jung’s Collected Works, but
no references to other writers.

Jung Lexicon is not a critique or a defence of Jung’s thoughts, but a
guide to its richness and an illustration of the broad scope and
interrelationship of his interests. Informed by a close reading of Jung’s major
writings, Jung Lexicon contains a comprehensive overview of the basic
principles of Jungian psychology. The implications and practical application of
Jung’s ideas are well covered by other volumes in this series.

Notes on Usage

A word that appears in bold type under
a main heading directs the reader to another entry. Activate the FIND function
on your browser to search for particular terms, themes, topics, etc. For
example, with the FIND dialogue box open, type in “dream” or
“midlife” or “relationship” and see what comes up. Or you
can scroll through the Lexicon from top to bottom and find unexpected gems.

The designation CW in the citations refers to
the twenty volumes of Jung’s Collected Works. The title of the
individual volumes are given in the Bibliography.



 Abaissement du niveau mental. A
lowering of the level of consciousness, a mental and emotional condition
experienced as “loss of soul.” (See also depression.)

It is a slackening of the tensity of
consciousness, which might be compared to a low barometric reading, presaging
bad weather. The tonus has given way, and this is felt subjectively as
listlessness, moroseness, and depression. One no longer has any wish or courage
to face the tasks of the day. One feels like lead, because no part of one’s
body seems willing to move, and this is due to the fact that one no longer has
any disposable energy. . . . The listlessness and paralysis of will can go so
far that the whole personality falls apart, so to speak, and consciousness
loses its unity . . . .
Abaissement du niveau mental can be the result of physical and mental
fatigue, bodily illness, violent emotions, and shock, of which the last has a
particularly deleterious effect on one’s self-assurance. The abaissement
always has a restrictive influence on the personality as a whole. It reduces
one’s self-confidence and the spirit of enterprise, and, as a result of
increasing egocentricity, narrows the mental horizon [“Concerning
Rebirth,” CW 9i, pars. 213f.]

Abreaction. A method of becoming conscious of repressed
emotional reactions through the retelling and reliving of a traumatic
experience. (See also cathartic method.)

After some initial interest in “trauma theory,” Jung abandoned
abreaction (together with suggestion) as an effective tool in the therapy of

I soon discovered that, though traumata of
clearly aetiological significance were occasionally present, the majority of
them appeared very improbable. Many traumata were so unimportant, even so
normal, that they could be regarded at most as a pretext for the neurosis. But
what especially aroused my criticism was the fact that not a few traumata were
simply inventions of fantasy and had never happened at all. . . . I could no
longer imagine that repeated experiences of a fantastically exaggerated or
entirely fictitious trauma had a different therapeutic value from a suggestion
procedure.[ “Some Crucial Points in Psychoanalysis,” CW 4, par. 582.]

The belief, the self-confidence, perhaps
also the devotion with which the analyst does his work, are far more important
to the patient (imponderabilia though they may be), than the rehearsing of old
traumata.[Ibid., par. 584.]

Abstraction. A form of mental activity by which a conscious
content is freed from its association with irrelevant elements, similar to the
process of differentiation. (Compare empathy.)

Abstraction is an activity pertaining to
the psychological functions in general. There is an abstract thinking, just as
there is abstract feeling, sensation, and intuition. Abstract thinking singles
out the rational, logical qualities of a given content from its intellectually
irrelevant components. Abstract feeling does the same with a content
characterized by its feeling-values . . . . Abstract sensation would be
aesthetic as opposed to sensuous sensation, and abstract intuition would be symbolic
as opposed to fantastic intuition.[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 678.]

Jung related abstraction to introversion
(analogous to empathy and extraversion).

I visualize the process of abstraction as
a withdrawal of libido from the object, as a backflow of value from the object
into a subjective, abstract content. For me, therefore, abstraction amounts to
an energic devaluation of the object. In other words, abstraction is an
introverting movement of libido.[Ibid., par. 679.]

To the extent that its purpose is to break
the object’s hold on the subject, abstraction is an attempt to rise above the
primitive state of participation mystique.

Active imagination. A method of assimilating unconscious contents
(dreams, fantasies, etc.) through some form of self-expression. (See also transcendent

The object of active imagination is to give a voice to sides of the personality
(particularly the anima/animus and the shadow) that are normally not heard,
thereby establishing a line of communication between consciousness and the
unconscious. Even when the end products-drawing, painting, writing, sculpture,
dance, music, etc.-are not interpreted, something goes on between creator and
creation that contributes to a transformation of consciousness.

The first stage of active imagination is like dreaming with open eyes. It can
take place spontaneously or be artificially induced.

In the latter case you choose a dream, or
some other fantasy-image, and concentrate on it by simply catching hold of it
and looking at it. You can also use a bad mood as a starting-point, and then
try to find out what sort of fantasy-image it will produce, or what image
expresses this mood. You then fix this image in the mind by concentrating your
attention. Usually it will alter, as the mere fact of contemplating it animates
it. The alterations must be carefully noted down all the time, for they reflect
the psychic processes in the unconscious background, which appear in the form
of images consisting of conscious memory material. In this way conscious and
unconscious are united, just as a waterfall connects above and below.[The
Conjunction,” CW 14, par. 706.]

The second stage, beyond simply observing the
images, involves a conscious participation in them, the honest evaluation of
what they mean about oneself, and a morally and intellectually binding
commitment to act on the insights. This is a transition from a merely
perceptive or aesthetic attitude to one of judgment.

Although, to a certain extent, he looks on
from outside, impartially, he is also an acting and suffering figure in the
drama of the psyche. This recognition is absolutely necessary and marks an
important advance. So long as he simply looks at the pictures he is like the
foolish Parsifal, who forgot to ask the vital question because he was not aware
of his own participation in the action.[An allusion to the medieval Grail
legend. The question Parsifal failed to ask was, “Whom does the Grail
serve?” ].
. . But if you recognize your own involvement you yourself
must enter into the process with your personal reactions, just as if you were
one of the fantasy figures, or rather, as if the drama being enacted before
your eyes were real.[“The Conjunction,” CW 14, par. 753.]

The judging attitude implies a voluntary
involvement in those fantasy-processes which compensate the individual and-in
particular-the collective situation of consciousness. The avowed purpose of
this involvement is to integrate the statements of the unconscious, to
assimilate their compensatory content, and thereby produce a whole meaning
which alone makes life worth living and, for not a few people, possible at all.
[ Ibid., par. 756.]

Adaptation. The process of coming to terms with the external
world, on the one hand, and with one’s own unique psychological characteristics
on the other. (See also neurosis.)

Before [individuation] can be taken as a
goal, the educational aim of adaptation to the necessary minimum of collective
norms must first be attained. If a plant is to unfold its specific nature to
the full, it must first be able to grow in the soil in which it is
planted.[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 761.]

The constant flow of life again and again
demands fresh adaptation. Adaptation is never achieved once and for
all.[“The Transcendent Function,” CW 8, par. 143.]

Man is not a machine in the sense that he
can consistently maintain the same output of work. He can meet the demands of
outer necessity in an ideal way only if he is also adapted to his own inner
world, that is, if he is in harmony with himself. Conversely, he can only adapt
to his inner world and achieve harmony with himself when he is adapted to the
environmental conditions.[“On Psychic Energy,” ibid., par. 75.]

The transition from child to adult initially
entails an increasing adaptation to the outer world. When the libido meets an
obstacle to progression, there is an accumulation of energy that normally gives
rise to increased efforts to overcome the obstacle. But if the obstacle proves
insurmountable, the stored-up energy regresses to an earlier mode of
adaptation. This in turn activates infantile fantasies and wishes, and
necessitates the need to adapt to the inner world.

The best examples of such regressions are
found in hysterical cases where a disappointment in love or marriage has
precipitated a neurosis. There we find those well-known digestive disorders,
loss of appetite, dyspeptic symptoms of all sorts, etc. . . . [typically
accompanied by] a regressive revival of reminiscences from the distant past. We
then find a reactivation of the parental imagos, of the Oedipus complex. Here
the events of early infancy-never before important-suddenly become so. They
have been regressively reactivated. Remove the obstacle from the path of life
and this whole system of infantile fantasies at once breaks down and becomes as
inactive and ineffective as before.[“Psychoanalysis and Neurosis,”
CW4, par. 569.]

In his model of typology, Jung described two
substantially different modes of adaptation, introversion and extraversion. He
also link-ed failures in adaptation to the outbreak of neurosis.

The psychological trouble in neurosis, and
the neurosis itself, can be formulated as an act of adaptation that has
.[ Ibid., par. 574 (italics in original).]

Affect. Emotional reactions marked by physical symptoms and disturbances in
thinking. (See also complex and feeling.)

Affect is invariably a sign that a complex has been activated.

Affects occur usually where adaptation is
weakest, and at the same time they reveal the reason for its weakness, namely a
certain degree of inferiority and the existence of a lower level of
personality. On this lower level with its uncontrolled or scarcely controlled
emotions one . . . [is] singularly incapable of moral judgment.[The
Shadow,” Aion, CW 9ii, par. 15.]

Ambivalence. A state of mind where every attitude or anticipated
course of action is counterbalanced by its opposite. (See also conflict
and opposites.)

Ambivalence is associated in general with the influence of unconscious
complexes, and in particular with the psychological functions when they have
not been differentiated.

Amplification. A method of association based on the comparative
study of mythology, religion and fairy tales, used in the interpretation of
images in dreams and drawings.

Analysis, Jungian.

A form of therapy specializing in neurosis, aimed at
bringing unconscious contents to consciousness; also called analytic therapy,
based on the school of thought developed by C.G. Jung called analytical (or
complex) psychology.

[Analysis] is only a means for removing
the stones from the path of development, and not a method . . . of putting
things into the patient that were not there before. It is better to renounce
any attempt to give direction, and simply try to throw into relief everything
that the analysis brings to light, so that the patient can see it clearly and
be able to draw suitable conclusions. Anything he has not acquired himself he
will not believe in the long run, and what he takes over from authority merely
keeps him infantile. He should rather be put in a position to take his own life
in hand. The art of analysis lies in following the patient on all his erring
ways and so gathering his strayed sheep together.[Some Crucial Points in
Psychoanalysis,” CW 4, par. 643.]

There is a widespread prejudice that
analysis is something like a “cure,” to which one submits for a time
and is then discharged healed. That is a layman’s error left over from the
early days of psychoanalysis. Analytical treatment could be described as a
readjustment of psychological attitude achieved with the help of the doctor. .
. . [But] there is no change that is unconditionally valid over a long period
of time.[The Transcendent Function,” CW 8, par. 142.]

Jung initially made a distinction between
analysis of the unconscious [ Jung deliberately used this expression instead
of “psychoanalysis”: “I wish to leave that term entirely to the
Freudians. What they understand by psychoanalysis is no mere technique, but a
method which is dogmatically bound up with and based upon Freud’s sexual
theory. When Freud publicly declared that psychoanalysis and his sexual theory
were indissolubly wedded, I was obliged to strike out on a different
path.” (“Analytical Psychology and Education,” CW 17, par. 180)]

and anamnestic analysis. The latter is concerned primarily with contents of
consciousness already available or easily brought to mind, and with supporting
or strengthening the ego. The unconscious is a factor only indirectly.

It consists in a careful anamnesis or
reconstruction of the historical development of the neurosis. The material
elicited in this way is a more or less coherent sequence of facts told to the
doctor by the patient, so far as he can remember them. He naturally omits many
details which either seem unimportant to him or which he has forgotten. The
experienced analyst who knows the usual course of neurotic development will put
questions which help the patient to fill in some of the gaps. Very often this
procedure by itself is of great therapeutic value, as it enables the patient to
understand the chief factors of his neurosis and may eventually bring him to a
decisive change of attitude.[“Analytical Psychology and Education,”
ibid., par. 177.]

In addition to the favourable effect
produced by the realization of previously unconscious connections, it is usual
for the doctor to give some good advice, or encouragement, or even a reproof.[
Ibid., par. 178.]

Analysis of the unconscious begins when
conscious material has been exhausted and there is still no satisfactory
resolution of the neurosis; it requires an ego strong enough to deal directly
with unconscious material, particularly dreams. Jung believed that analysis in
this sense was particularly suited to psychological problems in the second half
of life, but even then he expressed caution.

Consistent support of the conscious
attitude has in itself a high therapeutic value and not infrequently serves to
bring about satisfactory results. It would be a dangerous prejudice to imagine
that analysis of the unconscious is the one and only panacea which should
therefore be employed in every case. It is rather like a surgical operation and
we should only resort to the knife when other methods have failed. So long as
it does not obtrude itself the unconscious is best left alone.[The Psychology
of the Transference,” CW 16, par. 381.]

In his analytic work, Jung shunned diagnosis
and prognosis. He used no systematic technique or method. His aim was to
approach each case with a minimum of prior assumptions, although he
acknowledged that the personality and psychological disposition of the analyst
made complete objectivity impossible.

The ideal would naturally be to have no
assumptions at all. But this is impossible even if one exercises the most
rigorous self-criticism, for one is oneself the biggest of all one’s
assumptions, and the one with the gravest consequences. Try as we may to have
no assumptions and to use no ready-made methods, the assumption that I myself
am will determine my method: as I am, so will I proceed. [“Appendix,”
ibid., par.543.]

Jung also insisted that those training to be
analysts must have a thorough personal analysis.

We have learned to place in the foreground
the personality of the doctor himself as a curative or harmful factor; . . .
what is now demanded is his own transformation-the self-education of the
educator. . . . The doctor can no longer evade his own difficulty by treating
the difficulties of others: the man who suffers from a running abscess is not
fit to perform a surgical operation.[“Problems of Modern
Psychotherapy,” ibid., par. 172.]

Anima. The inner feminine side of a man. (See also animus, Eros,
Logos and soul-image.)
The anima is both a personal complex and an archetypal image of woman in the
male psyche. It is an unconscious factor incarnated anew in every male child,
and is responsible for the mechanism of projection. Initially identified with
the personal mother, the anima is later experienced not only in other women but
as a pervasive influence in a man’s life.

The anima is the archetype of life
[“Archetypes of the Collective Unconscious,” CW 9i, par.

There is [in man] an imago not only of the
mother but of the daughter, the sister, the beloved, the heavenly goddess, and
the chthonic Baubo. Every mother and every beloved is forced to become the
carrier and embodiment of this omnipresent and ageless image, which corresponds
to the deepest reality in a man. It belongs to him, this perilous image of
Woman; she stands for the loyalty which in the interests of life he must
sometimes forego; she is the much needed compensation for the risks, struggles,
sacrifices that all end in disappointment; she is the solace for all the
bitterness of life. And, at the same time, she is the great illusionist, the
seductress, who draws him into life with her Maya-and not only into life’s
reasonable and useful aspects, but into its frightful paradoxes and
ambivalences where good and evil, success and ruin, hope and despair,
counterbalance one another. Because she is his greatest danger she demands from
a man his greatest, and if he has it in him she will receive it.[The Syzygy:
Anima and Animus,” CW 9ii, par. 24]

The anima is personified in dreams by images
of women ranging from seductress to spiritual guide. It is associated with the
eros principle, hence a man’s anima development is reflected in how he relates
to women. Within his own psyche, the anima functions as his soul, influencing
his ideas, attitudes and emotions.

The anima is not the soul in the dogmatic
sense, not an anima rationalis, which is a philosophical conception, but
a natural archetype that satisfactorily sums up all the statements of the
unconscious, of the primitive mind, of the history of language and religion. .
. . It is always the a priori element in [a man’s] moods, reactions,
impulses, and whatever else is spontaneous in psychic life.[“Archetypes of
the Collective Unconscious,” CW 9i, par. 57.]

The anima . . . . intensifies,
exaggerates, falsifies, and mythologizes all emotional relations with his work
and with other people of both sexes. The resultant fantasies and entanglements
are all her doing. When the anima is strongly constellated, she softens the
man’s character and makes him touchy, irritable, moody, jealous, vain, and
unadjusted.[“Concerning the Archetypes and the Anima Concept,”[
ibid., par. 144.]

As an inner personality, the anima is
complementary to the persona and stands in a compensatory relationship to it.

The persona, the ideal picture of a man as
he should be, is inwardly compensated by feminine weakness, and as the
individual outwardly plays the strong man, so he becomes inwardly a woman,
i.e., the anima, for it is the anima that reacts to the persona. But because
the inner world is dark and invisible . . . and because a man is all the less
capable of conceiving his weaknesses the more he is identified with the
persona, the persona’s counterpart, the anima, remains completely in the dark
and is at once projected, so that our hero comes under the heel of his wife’s
slipper.[“Anima and Animus,” CW 7, par. 309.]

Hence the character of the anima can
generally be deduced from that of the persona; all those qualities absent from
the outer attitude will be found in the inner.

The tyrant tormented by bad dreams, gloomy
forebodings, and inner fears is a typical figure. Outwardly ruthless, harsh,
and unapproachable, he jumps inwardly at every shadow, is at the mercy of every
mood, as though he were the feeblest and most impressionable of men. Thus his
anima contains all those fallible human qualities his persona lacks. If the
persona is intellectual, the anima will certainly be
sentimental.[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 804.]

Similarly, where a man identifies with the
persona, he is in effect possessed by the anima, with attendant symptoms.

Identity with the persona automatically
leads to an unconscious identity with the anima because, when the ego is not
differentiated from the persona, it can have no conscious relation to the
unconscious processes. Consequently it is these processes, it is identical with
them. Anyone who is himself his outward role will infallibly succumb to the
inner processes; he will either frustrate his outward role by absolute inner
necessity or else reduce it to absurdity, by a process of enantiodromia. He can
no longer keep to his individual way, and his life runs into one deadlock after
another. Moreover, the anima is inevitably projected upon a real object, with
which he gets into a relation of almost total dependence.[Ibid., par. 807.]

Jung distinguished four broad stages of the
anima, analogous to levels of the Eros cult described in the late classical
period. He personified them as Eve, Helen, Mary and Sophia.[“The
Psychology of the Transference,” CW 16, par. 361. ]

In the first stage, Eve, the anima is indistinguishable from the personal
mother. The man cannot function well without a close tie to a woman. In the
second stage, personified in the historical figure of Helen of Troy, the anima
is a collective and ideal sexual image (“All is dross that is not
Helen”-Marlowe). The third stage, Mary, manifests in religious feelings
and a capacity for lasting relationships. In the fourth stage, as Sophia
(called Wisdom in the Bible), a man’s anima functions as a guide to the inner
life, mediating to consciousness the contents of the unconscious. She
cooperates in the search for meaning and is the creative muse in an artist’s

Ideally, a man’s anima proceeds naturally through these stages as he grows
older. In fact, as an archetypal life force, the anima manifests in whatever
shape or form is necessary to compensate the dominant conscious attitude.

So long as the anima is unconscious, everything she stands for is projected.
Most commonly, because of the initially close tie between the anima and the
protective mother-imago, this projection falls on the partner, with predictable

[A man’s] ideal of marriage is so arranged
that his wife has to take over the magical role of the mother. Under the cloak
of the ideally exclusive marriage he is really seeking his mother’s protection,
and thus he plays into the hands of his wife’s possessive instincts. His fear
of the dark incalculable power of the unconscious gives his wife an
illegitimate authority over him, and forges such a dangerously close union that
the marriage is permanently on the brink of explosion from internal
tension.[“Anima and Animus,” CW 7, par. 316.]

No matter where a man is in terms of
psychological development, he is always prone to see aspects of his anima, his
soul, in an actual woman. The same is true of the animus. Their personal
aspects may be integrated and their significance understood, but their
essential nature cannot be exhausted.

Though the effects of anima and animus can
be made conscious, they themselves are factors transcending consciousness and
beyond the reach of perception and volition. Hence they remain autonomous
despite the integration of their contents, and for this reason they should be
borne constantly in mind.[The Syzygy: Anima and Animus,” CW 9ii, par. 40.]

The psychological priority in the first half
of life is for a man to free himself from the anima fascination of the mother.
In later life, the lack of a conscious relationship with the anima is attended
by symptoms characteristic of “loss of soul.”

Younger people . . . can bear even the
total loss of the anima without injury. The important thing at this stage is
for a man to be a man. . . . After the middle of life, however, permanent loss
of the anima means a diminution of vitality, of flexibility, and of human
kindness. The result, as a rule, is premature rigidity, crustiness, stereotypy,
fanatical one-sidedness, obstinacy, pedantry, or else resignation, weariness,
sloppiness, irresponsibility, and finally a childish ramollissement
[petulance] with a tendency to alcohol.[“Concerning the Archetypes and the
Anima Concept,” CW 9i, par. 146f.]

One way for a man to become familiar with the
nature of his anima is through the method of active imagination. This is done
by personifying her as an autonomous personality, asking her questions and
attending to the response.

I mean this as an actual technique. . . .
The art of it consists only in allowing our invisible partner to make herself
heard, in putting the mechanism of expression momentarily at her disposal,
without being overcome by the distaste one naturally feels at playing such an
apparently ludicrous game with oneself, or by doubts as to the genuineness of
the voice of one’s interlocutor.[“Anima and Animus,” CW 7, pars.

Jung suggested that if the encounter with the
shadow is the “apprentice-piece” in a man’s development, then coming
to terms with the anima is the “master-piece.”[“Archetypes of
the Collective Unconscious,” CW 9i, par. 61.] The goal is her
transformation from a troublesome adversary into a function of relationship
between consciousness and the unconscious. Jung called this “the conquest
of the anima as an autonomous complex.”

With the attainment of this goal it
becomes possible to disengage the ego from all its entanglements with
collectivity and the collective unconscious. Through this process the anima
forfeits the daemonic power of an autonomous complex; she can no longer
exercise the power of possession, since she is depotentiated. She is no longer
the guardian of treasures unknown; no longer Kundry, daemonic Messenger of the
Grail, half divine and half animal; no longer is the soul to be called “Mistress,”
but a psychological function of an intuitive nature, akin to what the
primitives mean when they say, “He has gone into the forest to talk with
the spirits” or “My snake spoke with me” or, in the mythological
language of infancy, “A little bird told me.”[The
Mana-Personality,” CW 7, par. 374.]

Animus. The inner masculine side of a woman. (See also anima, Eros,
Logos and soul-image.)
Like the anima in a man, the animus is both a personal complex and an
archetypal image.

Woman is compensated by a masculine
element and therefore her unconscious has, so to speak, a masculine imprint.
This results in a considerable psychological difference between men and women,
and accordingly I have called the projection-making factor in women the animus,
which means mind or spirit. The animus corresponds to the paternal Logos just
as the anima corresponds to the maternal Eros.[The Syzygy: Anima and
Animus,” CW 9ii, pars. 28f.]

The animus is the deposit, as it were, of
all woman’s ancestral experiences of man-and not only that, he is also a
creative and procreative being, not in the sense of masculine creativity, but
in the sense that he brings forth something we might call . . . the spermatic
word.[“Anima and Animus,” CW 7, par. 336.]

Whereas the anima in a man functions as his
soul, a woman’s animus is more like an unconscious mind.[At times Jung also
referred to the animus as a woman’s soul. See soul and soul-image.]

It manifests negatively in fixed ideas, collective opinions and unconscious, a
assumptions that lay claim to absolute truth. In a woman who is
identified with the animus (called animus-possession), Eros generally takes
second place to Logos.

A woman possessed by the animus is always
in danger of losing her femininity.[Anima and Animus,” CW 7, par. 337.]

No matter how friendly and obliging a
woman’s Eros may be, no logic on earth can shake her if she is ridden by the
animus. . . . [A man] is unaware that this highly dramatic situation would
instantly come to a banal and unexciting end if he were to quit the field and
let a second woman carry on the battle (his wife, for instance, if she herself
is not the fiery war horse). This sound idea seldom or never occurs to him,
because no man can converse with an animus for five minutes without becoming
the victim of his own anima.[The Syzygy: Anima and Animus,” CW 9ii, par.

The animus becomes a helpful psychological
factor when a woman can tell the difference between the ideas generated by this
autonomous complex and what she herself really thinks.

Like the anima, the animus too has a
positive aspect. Through the figure of the father he expresses not only
conventional opinion but-equally-what we call “spirit,” philosophical
or religious ideas in particular, or rather the attitude resulting from them.
Thus the animus is a psychopomp, a mediator between the conscious and the
unconscious and a personification of the latter.[Ibid., par. 33.]

Jung described four stages of animus
development in a woman. He first appears in dreams and fantasy as the
embodiment of physical power, an athlete, muscle man or thug. In the second
stage, the animus provides her with initiative and the capacity for planned
action. He is behind a woman’s desire for independence and a career of her own.
In the next stage, the animus is the “word,” often personified in
dreams as a professor or clergyman. In the fourth stage, the animus is the
incarnation of spiritual meaning. On this highest level, like the anima as
Sophia, the animus mediates between a woman’s conscious mind and the unconscious.
In mythology this aspect of the animus appears as Hermes, messenger of the
gods; in dreams he is a helpful guide.

Any of these aspects of the animus can be projected onto a man. As with the
projected anima, this can lead to unrealistic expectations and acrimony in

Like the anima, the animus is a jealous
lover. He is adept at putting, in place of the real man, an opinion about him,
the exceedingly disputable grounds for which are never submitted to criticism.
Animus opinions are invariably collective, and they override individuals and
individual judgments in exactly the same way as the anima thrusts her emotional
anticipations and projections between man and wife.[“Anima and
Animus,” CW 7, par. 334.]

The existence of the contrasexual complexes
means that in any relationship between a man and a woman there are at least
four personalities involved. The possible lines of communication are shown by
the arrows in the diagram.[Adapted from “The Psychology of the
Transference,” CW 16, par. 422.]


While a man’s task in assimilating the
effects of the anima involves discovering his true feelings, a woman becomes
familiar with the nature of the animus by constantly questioning her ideas and

The technique of coming to terms with the
animus is the same in principle as in the case of the anima; only here the
woman must learn to criticize and hold her opinions at a distance; not in order
to repress them, but, by investigating their origins, to penetrate more deeply
into the background, where she will then discover the primordial images, just
as the man does in his dealings with the anima.[Anima and Animus,” CW 7,
par. 336.]

Anthropos. Original or primordial man, an archetypal image of
wholeness in alchemy, religion and Gnostic philosophy.

There is in the unconscious an already
existing wholeness, the “homo totus” of the Western and the Chên-yên
(true man) of Chinese alchemy, the round primordial being who represents the
greater man within, the Anthropos, who is akin to God.[The Personification of
the Opposites,” CW 14, par. 152.]

Apotropaic. Descriptive of “magical thinking,” based
on the desire to depotentiate the influence of an object or person. Apotropaic
actions are characteristic of introversion as a mode of psychological

I have seen an introverted child who made
his first attempts to walk only after he had learned the names of all the
objects in the room he might touch.[Psychological Types,” CW 6, par. 897.]

Apperception. A psychic process by which a new conscious content
is articulated with similar, already existing contents in such a way that it is
understood. (Compare assimilation.)

Sense-perceptions tell us that something
is. But they do not tell us what it is. This is told us not by the process of
perception but by the process of apperception, and this has a highly complex
structure. Not that sense-perception is anything simple; only, its complex
nature is not so much psychic as physiological. The complexity of apperception,
on the other hand, is psychic. [The Structure of the Psyche,” CW 8, par.

Jung distinguishes active from passive
apperception. In active apperception, the ego grabs hold of something new and comes
to grips with it. In passive apperception, the new content forces itself upon
consciousness, either from outside (through the senses) or from within (the
unconscious). Apperception may also be either directed or undirected.

In the former case we speak of
“attention,” in the latter case of “fantasy” or
“dreaming.” The directed processes are rational, the undirected
irrational. [Ibid., par. 294.]

Archaic. Primal or original. (See also participation mystique.)

Every civilized human being, however high
his conscious development, is still an archaic man at the deeper levels of his
psyche.[Archaic Man,” CW 10, par. 105]

In anthropology, the term archaic is
generally descriptive of primitive psychology. Jung used it when referring to
thoughts, fantasies and feelings that are not consciously differentiated.

Archaism attaches primarily to the
fantasies of the unconscious, i.e., to the products of unconscious fantasy
activity which reach consciousness. An image has an archaic quality when it
possesses unmistakable mythological parallels. Archaic, too, are the
associations-by-analogy of unconscious fantasy, and so is their symbolism. The
relation of identity with an object, or participation mystique, is
likewise archaic. Concretism of thought and feeling is archaic; also compulsion
and inability to control oneself (ecstatic or trance state, possession, etc.).
Fusion of the psychological functions, of thinking with feeling, feeling with
sensation, feeling with intuition, and so on, is archaic, as is also the fusion
of part of a function with its counterpart.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 684.]

Archetype. Primordial, structural elements of the human psyche.
(See also archetypal image and instinct.)

Archetypes are systems of readiness for
action, and at the same time images and emotions. They are inherited with the
brain structure-indeed they are its psychic aspect. They represent, on the one
hand, a very strong instinctive conservatism, while on the other hand they are
the most effective means conceivable of instinctive adaptation. They are thus,
essentially, the chthonic portion of the psyche . . . that portion through
which the psyche is attached to nature.[“Mind and Earth,” CW 10, par.

It is not . . . a question of inherited
ideas but of inherited possibilities of ideas. Nor are they individual
acquisitions but, in the main, common to all, as can be seen from [their]
universal occurrence.[“Concerning the Archetypes and the Anima
Concept,” CW 9i, par. 136.]

Archetypes are irrepresentable in themselves
but their effects are discernible in archetypal images and motifs.

Archetypes . . . present themselves as
ideas and images, like everything else that becomes a content of
consciousness.[On the Nature of the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 435.]

Archetypes are, by definition, factors and
motifs that arrange the psychic elements into certain images, characterized as
archetypal, but in such a way that they can be recognized only from the effects
they produce.[“A Psychological Approach to the Trinity,” CW 11, par.
222, note 2.]

Jung also described archetypes as
“instinctual images,” the forms which the instincts assume. He
illustrated this using the simile of the spectrum.

The dynamism of instinct is lodged as it
were in the infra-red part of the spectrum, whereas the instinctual image lies in
the ultra-violet part. . . . The realization and assimilation of instinct never
take place at the red end, i.e., by absorption into the instinctual sphere, but
only through integration of the image which signifies and at the same time
evokes the instinct, although in a form quite different from the one we meet on
the biological level.[“On the Nature of the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 414.]


Psychologically . .
. the archetype as an image of instinct is a spiritual goal toward which the
whole nature of man strives; it is the sea to which all rivers wend their way,
the prize which the hero wrests from the fight with the dragon.[Ibid., par.

Archetypes manifest both on a personal level,
through complexes, and collectively, as characteristics of whole cultures. Jung
believed it was the task of each age to understand anew their content and their

We can never legitimately cut loose from
our archetypal foundations unless we are prepared to pay the price of a
neurosis, any more than we can rid ourselves of our body and its organs without
committing suicide. If we cannot deny the archetypes or otherwise neutralize
them, we are confronted, at every new stage in the differentiation of
consciousness to which civilization attains, with the task of finding a new interpretation
appropriate to this stage, in order to connect the life of the past that still
exists in us with the life of the present, which threatens to slip away from
it.[“The Psychology of the Child Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 267.]

Archetypal image. The form or representation of an archetype in
consciousness. (See also collective unconscious.)

[The archetype is] a dynamism which makes
itself felt in the numinosity and fascinating power of the archetypal
image.[“On the Nature of the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 414.]

Archetypal images, as universal patterns or
motifs which come from the collective unconscious, are the basic content of
religions, mythologies, legends and fairy tales.

An archetypal content expresses itself,
first and foremost, in metaphors. If such a content should speak of the sun and
identify with it the lion, the king, the hoard of gold guarded by the dragon,
or the power that makes for the life and health of man, it is neither the one
thing nor the other, but the unknown third thing that finds more or less
adequate expression in all these similes, yet-to the perpetual vexation of the
intellect-remains unknown and not to be fitted into a formula.[“The
Psychology of the Child Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 267]

On a personal level, archetypal motifs are
patterns of thought or behavior that are common to humanity at all times and in
all places.

For years I have been observing and
investigating the products of the unconscious in the widest sense of the word,
namely dreams, fantasies, visions, and delusions of the insane. I have not been
able to avoid recognizing certain regularities, that is, types. There
are types of situations and types of figures that repeat
themselves frequently and have a corresponding meaning. I therefore employ the
term “motif” to designate these repetitions. Thus there are not only
typical dreams but typical motifs in dreams. . . . [These] can be arranged
under a series of archetypes, the chief of them being . . . the shadow,
the wise old man, the child (including the child hero), the
mother (“Primordial Mother” and “Earth Mother”) as a
supraordinate personality (“daemonic” because supraordinate), and her
counterpart the maiden, and lastly the anima in man and the animus
in woman.[“The Psychological Aspects of the Kore,” ibid., par. 309.]

Assimilation. The process of integrating outer objects (persons,
things, ideas, values) and unconscious contents into consciousness.

Assimilation is the approximation of a new
content of consciousness to already constellated subjective material . . . .
Fundament-ally, [it] is a process of apperception, but is distinguished from
apperception by this element of approximation to the subjective material. . . .
I use the term assimilation . . . as the approximation of object to subject in
general, and with it I contrast dissimilation, as the approximation of
subject to object, and a consequent alienation of the subject from himself in
favour of the object, whether it be an external object or a
“psychological” object, for instance an
idea.[“Definitions,” CW 6, pars. 685f.]

Association. A spontaneous flow of interconnected thoughts and
images around a specific idea, often determined by unconscious connections.
(See also Word Association Experiment.)
Personal associations to images in dreams, together with amplification, are an
important initial step in their interpretation.


Attitude. The readiness of the psyche to act or react in a
certain way, based on an underlying psychological orientation. (See also
adaptation, type and typology.)

From a great number of existing or
possible attitudes I have singled out four; those, namely, that are primarily
oriented by the four basic psychological functions: thinking, feeling,
sensation, intuition. When any of these attitudes is habitual, thus
setting a definite stamp on the character of an individual, I speak of a
psychological type. These function-types, which one can call the
thinking, feeling, sen-sation, and intuitive types, may be divided into two
classes . . . the rational and the irrational. . . . A further division into
two classes is permitted by the predominant trend of the movement of libido,
namely introversion and extraversion.[Ibid., par. 835.]

The whole psychology of an individual even
in its most fundamental features is oriented in accordance with his habitual
attitude. . . . [which is] a resultant of all the factors that exert a decisive
influence on the psyche, such as innate disposition, environmental influences,
experience of life, insights and convictions gained through differentiation,
collective views, etc. . . .At bottom, attitude is an individual phenomenon
that eludes scientific investigation. In actual experience, however, certain
typical attitudes can be distinguished . . . . When a function habitually
predominates, a typical attitude is produced. . . . There is thus a typical
thinking, feeling, sensation, and intuitive attitude.[Ibid., pars. 690f.]

Adaptation to one’s environment requires an
appropriate attitude. But due to changing circumstances, no one attitude is
permanently suitable. When a particular attitude is no longer appropriate,
whether to internal or external reality, the stage is set for psychological
difficulties (e.g., an outbreak of neurosis).

For example, a feeling-attitude that seeks
to fulfil the demands of reality by means of empathy may easily encounter a
situation that can only be solved through thinking. In this case the
feeling-attitude breaks down and the progression of libido also ceases. The
vital feeling that was present before disappears, and in its place the psychic
value of certain conscious contents increases in an unpleasant way; subjective
contents and reactions press to the fore and the situation becomes full of affect
and ripe for explosions.[“On Psychic Energy,” CW 8, par. 61.]

The tension leads to conflict, the
conflict leads to attempts at mutual repression, and if one of the opposing
forces is successfully repressed a dissociation ensues, a splitting of the personality,
or disunion with oneself.[Ibid.]

Autonomous. Independent of the conscious will, associated in
general with the nature of the unconscious and in particular with activated complexes.

Auxiliary function. A helpful second or third function, according to
Jung’s model of typology, that has a co-determining influence on

Absolute sovereignty always belongs,
empirically, to one function alone, and can belong only to one function,
because the equally independent intervention of another function would
necessarily produce a different orientation which, partially at least, would
contradict the first. But since it is a vital condition for the conscious
process of adaptation always to have clear and unambiguous aims, the presence
of a second function of equal power is naturally ruled out. This other
function, therefore, can have only a secondary importance. . . . Its secondary
importance is due to the fact that it is not, like the primary function . . .
an absolutely reliable and decisive factor, but comes into play more as an
auxiliary or complementary function.[“General Description of the
Types,” CW 6, par. 667.]

The auxiliary function is always one whose
nature differs from, but is not antagonistic to, the superior or primary
function: either of the irrational functions (intuition and sensation) can be
auxiliary to one of the rational functions (thinking and feeling), and vice

Thus thinking and intuition can readily pair, as can thinking and sensation,
since the nature of intuition and sensation is not fundamentally opposed to the
thinking function. Similarly, sensation can be bolstered by an auxiliary
function of thinking or feeling, feeling is aided by sensation or intuition,
and intuition goes well with feeling or thinking.

The resulting combinations [see figure
present the familiar picture of, for instance, practical thinking
allied with sensation, speculative thinking forging ahead with intuition,
artistic intuition selecting and presenting its images with the help of
feeling-values, philosophical intuition systematizing its vision into
comprehensive thought by means of a powerful intellect, and so on.[Ibid., par.

 Type Combinations
Type Combinations

Axiom of Maria. A precept in alchemy: “One becomes two, two
becomes three, and out of the third comes the one as the fourth.”

Jung used the axiom of Maria as a metaphor for the whole process of
individuation. One is the original state of unconscious wholeness; two
signifies the conflict between opposites; three points to a potential
resolution; the third is the transcendent function; and the one as
the fourth
is a transformed state of consciousness, relatively whole and at

Cathartic method. A confessional approach to treating neurosis,
involving the abreaction of emotions associated with a trauma.

Through confession I throw myself into the
arms of humanity again, freed at last from the burden of moral exile. The goal
of the cathartic method is full confession-not merely the intellectual
recognition of the facts with the head, but their confirmation by the heart and
the actual release of suppressed emotion.[“Problems of Modern
Psychotherapy,” CW 16, par. 134.]

Jung acknowledged the therapeutic value of
catharsis, but early in his career he recognized its limitations in the process
of analysis.

The new psychology would have remained at
the stage of confession had catharsis proved itself a panacea. First and
foremost, however, it is not always possible to bring the patients close enough
to the unconscious for them to perceive the shadows. . . . They have quite
enough to confess already, they say; they do not have to turn to the
unconscious for that.[Ibid., par. 137.]

Causal. An approach to the interpretation of psychic phenomena based on cause
and effect. (See also final and reductive.)

Child. Psychologically, an image of both the irrecoverable past and an
anticipation of future development. (See also incest.)

The “child” is . . . . both
beginning and end, an initial and a terminal creature. . . . the pre-conscious
and the post-conscious essence of man. His pre-conscious essence is the
unconscious state of earliest childhood; his post-conscious essence is an
anticipation by analogy of life after death. In this idea the all-embracing
nature of psychic wholeness is expressed.[“The Psychology of the Child
Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 299.]

Feelings of alienation or abandonment can
constellate the child archetype. The effects are two-fold: the “poor-me”
syndrome characteristic of the regressive longing for dependence, and,
paradoxically, a desperate desire to be free of the past-the positive side of
the divine child archetype.

Abandonment, exposure, danger, etc., are
all elaborations of the “child’s” insignificant beginnings and of its
mysterious and miraculous birth. This statement describes a certain psychic
experience of a creative nature, whose object is the emergence of a new and as
yet unknown content. In the psychology of the individual there is always, at
such moments, an agonizing situation of conflict from which there seems to be
no way out-at least for the conscious mind, since as far as this is concerned, tertium
non datur.
[Ibid., par. 285.]

“Child” means something evolving
towards independence. This it cannot do without detaching itself from its
origins: abandonment is therefore a necessary condition [of consciousness], not
just a concomitant symptom.[Ibid., par. 287.]

Circumambulation. A term used to describe the interpretation of an
image by reflecting on it from different points of view. Circumambulation
differs from free association in that it is circular, not linear. Where free
association leads away from the original image, circumambulation stays close to

Collective. Psychic contents that belong not to one individual
but to a society, a people or the human race in general. (See also collective
unconscious, individuation
and persona.)

The conscious personality is a more or
less arbitrary segment of the collective psyche. It consists in a sum of
psychic factors that are felt to be personal [“The Persona as a Segment of
the Collective Psyche,” CW 7, par. 244.]

Identification with the collective and
voluntary segregation from it are alike synonymous with disease.[The Structure
of the Unconscious,” ibid., par. 485]

A collective quality adheres not only to
particular psychic elements or contents but to whole psychological functions.

Thus the thinking function as a whole can
have a collective quality, when it possesses general validity and accords with
the laws of logic. Similarly, the feeling function as a whole can be
collective, when it is identical with the general feeling and accords with
general expectations, the general moral consciousness, etc. In the same way,
sensation and intuition are collective when they are at the same time
characteristic of a large group.[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 692.]

Collective unconscious. A structural layer of the human psyche containing
inherited elements, distinct from the personal unconscious. (See also archetype
and archetypal image.)

The collective unconscious contains the
whole spiritual heritage of mankind’s evolution, born anew in the brain
structure of every individual.[The Structure of the Psyche,” CW 8, par.

Jung derived his theory of the collective
unconscious from the ubiquity of psychological phenomena that could not be
explained on the basis of personal experience. Unconscious fantasy activity,
for instance, falls into two categories.

First, fantasies (including dreams) of a
personal character, which go back unquestionably to personal experiences,
things forgotten or repressed, and can thus be completely explained by
individual anamnesis. Second, fantasies (including dreams) of an impersonal
character, which cannot be reduced to experiences in the individual’s past, and
thus cannot be explained as something individually acquired. These
fantasy-images undoubtedly have their closest analogues in mythological types.
. . . These cases are so numerous that we are obliged to assume the existence
of a collective psychic substratum. I have called this the collective
.[The Psychology of the Child Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 262.]

The collective unconscious-so far as we
can say anything about it at all-appears to consist of mythological motifs or
primordial images, for which reason the myths of all nations are its real
exponents. In fact, the whole of mythology could be taken as a sort of
projection of the collective unconscious. . . . We can therefore study the
collective unconscious in two ways, either in mythology or in the analysis of
the individual.[“The Structure of the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 325.]

The more one becomes aware of the contents of
the personal unconscious, the more is revealed of the rich layer of images and
motifs that comprise the collective unconscious. This has the effect of
enlarging the personality.

In this way there arises a consciousness
which is no longer imprisoned in the petty, oversensitive, personal world of
the ego, but participates freely in the wider world of objective interests.
This widened consciousness is no longer that touchy, egotistical bundle of
personal wishes, fears, hopes, and ambitions which always has to be compensated
or corrected by unconscious counter-tendencies; instead, it is a function of
relationship to the world of objects, bringing the individual into absolute,
binding, and indissoluble communion with the world at large.[The Function of
the Unconscious,” CW 7, par. 275.]

Compensation. A natural process aimed at establishing or
maintaining balance within the psyche. (See also active imagination, dreams,
and self-regulation of the psyche.)

The activity of consciousness is
selective. Selection demands direction. But direction requires the exclusion
of everything irrelevan
t. This is bound to make the conscious orientation
one-sided. The contents that are excluded and inhibited by the chosen direction
sink into the unconscious, where they form a counterweight to the conscious
orientation. The strengthening of this counterposition keeps pace with the
increase of conscious one-sidedness until finally . . . . the repressed
unconscious contents break through in the form of dreams and spontaneous
images. . . . As a rule, the unconscious compensation does not run counter to
consciousness, but is rather a balancing or supplementing of the conscious
orientation. In dreams, for instance, the unconscious supplies all those
contents that are constellated by the conscious situation but are inhibited by
conscious selection, although a knowledge of them would be indispensable for
complete adaptation[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 694.]

In neurosis, where consciousness is one-sided
to an extreme, the aim of analytic therapy is the realization and assimilation
of unconscious contents so that compensation may be reestablished. This can
often be accomplished by paying close attention to dreams, emotions and
behavior patterns, and through active imagination.

Complex. An emotionally charged group of ideas or images. (See also Word
Association Experiment.

[A complex] is the image of a
certain psychic situation which is strongly accentuated emotionally and is,
moreover, incompatible with the habitual attitude of consciousness.[“A
Review of the Complex Theory,” CW 8, par. 201.]

The via regia to the unconscious .
. . is not the dream, as [Freud] thought, but the complex, which is the
architect of dreams and of symptoms. Nor is this via so very
“royal,” either, since the way pointed out by the complex is more
like a rough and uncommonly devious footpath.[ Ibid., par. 210.]

Formally, complexes are “feeling-toned
ideas” that over the years accumulate around certain archetypes, for
instance “mother” and “father.” When complexes are
constellated, they are invariably accompanied by affect. They are always
relatively autonomous.

Complexes interfere with the intentions of
the will and disturb the conscious performance; they produce disturbances of
memory and blockages in the flow of associations; they appear and disappear
according to their own laws; they can temporarily obsess consciousness, or
influence speech and action in an unconscious way. In a word, complexes behave
like independent beings.[Psychological Factors in Human Behaviour,” ibid.,
par. 253.]

Complexes are in fact “splinter
psyches.” The aetiology of their origin is frequently a so-called trauma,
an emotional shock or some such thing, that splits off a bit of the psyche.
Certainly one of the commonest causes is a moral conflict, which ultimately
derives from the apparent impossibility of affirming the whole of one’s nature.[“A
Review of the Complex Theory,” ibid., par. 204.]

Everyone knows nowadays that people
“have complexes.” What is not so well known, though far more
important theoretically, is that complexes can have us.[Ibid., par.

Jung stressed that complexes in themselves
are not negative; only their effects often are. In the same way that atoms and
molecules are the invisible components of physical objects, complexes are the
building blocks of the psyche and the source of all human emotions.

Complexes are focal or nodal points of
psychic life which we would not wish to do without; indeed, they should not be
missing, for otherwise psychic activity would come to a fatal
standstill.[“A Psychological Theory of Types,” CW 6, par. 925.]

Complexes obviously represent a kind of
inferiority in the broadest sense . . . [but] to have complexes does not
necessarily indicate inferiority. It only means that something discordant,
unassimilated, and antagonistic exists, perhaps as an obstacle, but also as an
incentive to greater effort, and so, perhaps, to new possibilities of
achievement.[Ibid., par. 925.]

Some degree of one-sidedness is
unavoidable, and, in the same measure, complexes are unavoidable
too.[“Psychological Factors in Human Behaviour,” CW 8, par. 255.]

The negative effect of a complex is commonly
experienced as a distortion in one or other of the psychological functions
(feeling, thinking, intuition and sensation). In place of sound judgment and an
appropriate feeling response, for instance, one reacts according to what the
complex dictates. As long as one is unconscious of the complexes, one is liable
to be driven by them.

The possession of complexes does not in
itself signify neurosis . . . and the fact that they are painful is no proof of
pathological disturbance. Suffering is not an illness; it is the normal
counterpole to happiness. A complex becomes pathological only when we think we
have not got it.[Psychotherapy and a Philosophy of Life,” CW 16, par.

Identification with a complex, particularly
the anima/animus and the shadow, is a frequent source of neurosis. The aim of
analysis in such cases is not to get rid of the complexes-as if that were
possible-but to minimize their negative effects by understanding the part they
play in behavior patterns and emotional reactions.

A complex can be really overcome only if
it is lived out to the full. In other words, if we are to develop further we
have to draw to us and drink down to the very dregs what, because of our
complexes, we have held at a distance.[“Psychological Aspects of the
Mother Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 184.]

Concretism. A way of thinking or feeling that is archaic
and undifferentiated, based entirely on perception through sensation. (Compare abstraction.)

Concretism as a way of mental functioning is closely related to the more
general concept of participation mystique. Concrete thinking and feeling
are attuned to and bound by physiological stimuli and material facts. Such an
orientation is valuable in the recognition of outer reality, but deficient in
how it is interpreted.

Concretism results in a projection of . .
. inner factors into the objective data and produces an almost superstitious
veneration of mere facts.[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 699.]

[Concrete thinking] has no detached
independence but clings to material phenomena. It rises at most to the level of
analogy. Primitive feeling is equally bound to material phenomena. Both
of them depend on sensation and are only slight differentiated from it.
Concret-ism, therefore, is an archaism. The magical influence of the fetish is
not experienced as a subjective state of feeling, but sensed as a magical
effect. That is concretistic feeling. The primitive does not experience the
idea of the divinity as a subjective content; for him the sacred tree is the
abode of the god, or even the god himself. That is concretistic thinking. In
civilized man, concretistic thinking consists in the inability to conceive of
anything except immediately obvious facts transmitted by the senses, or in the
inability to discriminate between subjective feeling and the sensed
object.[Ibid., par. 697.]

Conflict. A state of indecision, accompanied by inner tension. (See also opposites
and transcendent function.)

The apparently unendurable conflict is
proof of the rightness of your life. A life without inner contradiction is
either only half a life or else a life in the Beyond, which is destined only
for angels. But God loves human beings more than the angels.[C.G. Jung Letters,
vol. 1, p. 375.]

The self is made manifest in the opposites
and in the conflict between them; it is a coincidentia oppositorum
[coincidence of opposites]. Hence the way to the self begins with
conflict.[“Individual Dream Symbolism in Relation to Alchemy,” CW 12,
par. 259.]

Conflict is a hallmark of neurosis, but conflict
is not invariably neurotic. Some degree of conflict is even desirable since
without some tension between opposites the developmental process is inhibited.
Conflict only becomes neurotic when it interferes with the normal functioning
of consciousness.

The stirring up of conflict is a
Luciferian virtue in the true sense of the word. Conflict engenders fire, the
fire of affects and emotions, and like every other fire it has two aspects,
that of combustion and that of creating light.[“Psychological Aspects of
the Mother Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 179.]

When a conflict is unconscious, tension
manifests as physical symptoms, particularly in the stomach, the back and the
neck. Conscious conflict is experienced as moral or ethical tension. Serious
conflicts, especially those involving love or duty, generally involve a
disparity between the functions of thinking and feeling. If one or the other is
not a conscious participant in the conflict, it needs to be introduced.

The objection [may be] advanced that many
conflicts are intrinsically insoluble. People sometimes take this view because
they think only of external solutions-which at bottom are not solutions at all.
. . . A real solution comes only from within, and then only because the patient
has been brought to a different attitude.[“Some Crucial Points in
Psychoanalysis,” CW 4, par. 606.]

Jung’s major contribution to the psychology
of conflict was his belief that it had a purpose in terms of the
self-regulation of the psyche. If the tension between the opposites can be held
in consciousness, then something will happen internally to resolve the
conflict. The solution, essentially irrational and unforeseeable, generally
appears as a new attitude toward oneself and the outer situation, together with
a sense of peace; energy previously locked up in indecision is released and the
progression of libido becomes possible. Jung called this the tertium non
or transcendent function, because what happens transcends the

Holding the tension between opposites requires patience and a strong ego,
otherwise a decision will be made out of desperation. Then the opposite will be
constellated even more strongly and the conflict will continue with renewed

Jung’s basic hypothesis in working with neurotic conflict was that separate
personalities in oneself-complexes-were involved. As long as these are not made
conscious they are acted out externally, through projection. Conflicts with
other people are thus essentially externalizations of an unconscious conflict
within oneself.

Coniunctio. Literally, “conjunction,” used in alchemy
to refer to chemical combinations; psychologically, it points to the union of
opposites and the birth of new possibilities.

The coniunctio is an a priori image
that occupies a prominent place in the history of man’s mental development. If
we trace this idea back we find it has two sources in alchemy, one Christian,
the other pagan. The Christian source is unmistakably the doctrine of Christ
and the Church, sponsus and sponsa, where Christ takes the role
of Sol and the Church that of Luna. The pagan source is on the one hand the
hieros-gamos, on the other the marital union of the mystic with God.[The
Psychology of the Transference,” CW 16, par. 355.]

Other alchemical terms used by Jung with a
near-equivalent psychological meaning include unio mystica (mystic or
sacred marriage), coincidentia oppositorum (coincidence of opposites), complexio
(the opposites embodied in a single image) unus mundus
(one world) and Philosophers’ Stone.

Consciousness. The function or activity which maintains the
relation of psychic contents to the ego; distinguished conceptually from the psyche,
which encompasses both consciousness and the unconscious. (See also opposites.)

There is no consciousness without discrimination
of opposites.[“Psychological Aspects of the Mother Archetype,” CW 9i,
par. 178.]

There are two distinct ways in which
consciousness arises. The one is a moment of high emotional tension, comparable
to the scene in Parsifal where the hero, at the very moment of greatest
temptation, suddenly realizes the meaning of Amfortas’ wound. The other is a
state of contemplation, in which ideas pass before the mind like dream-images.
Suddenly there is a flash of association between two apparently disconnected
and widely separated ideas, and this has the effect of releasing a latent
tension. Such a moment often works like a revelation. In every case it seems to
be the discharge of energy-tension, whether external or internal, which
produces consciousness.[“Analytical Psychology and Education,” CW 17,
par. 207.]

In Jung’s view of the psyche, individual
consciousness is a superstructure based on, and arising out of, the

Consciousness does not create itself-it
wells up from unknown depths. In childhood it awakens gradually, and all
through life it wakes each morning out of the depths of sleep from an
unconscious condition. It is like a child that is born daily out of the
primordial womb of the unconscious. . . . It is not only influenced by the unconscious
but continually emerges out of it in the form of numberless spontaneous ideas
and sudden flashes of thought.[“The Psychology of Eastern
Meditation,” CW 11, par. 935.]

Constellate. To activate, usually used with reference to a complex
and an accompanying pattern of emotional reactions.

This term simply expresses the fact that
the outward situation releases a psychic process in which certain contents
gather together and prepare for action. When we say that a person is
“constellated” we mean that he has taken up a position from which he
can be expected to react in a quite definite way. . . . The constellated
contents are definite complexes possessing their own specific energy.[“A
Review of the Complex Theory,” CW 8, par. 198.]

Constructive. An approach to the interpretation of psychic
activity based on its goal or purpose rather than its cause or source. (See
also final; compare reductive.)

I use constructive and synthetic to
designate a method that is the antithesis of reductive. The constructive method
is concerned with the elaboration of the products of the unconscious (dreams,
fantasies, etc.). It takes the unconscious product as a symbolic expression
which anticipates a coming phase of psychological
development[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 701.]

The constructive or synthetic method of
treatment presupposes insights which are at least potentially present in the
patient and can therefore be made conscious.[“The Transcendent
Function,” CW 8, par. 145.]

The constructive method involves both the
amplification of symbols and their interpretation on the subjective level. Its
use in dream interpretation aims at understanding how the conscious orientation
may be modified in light of the dream’s symbolic message. This is in line with
Jung’s belief that the psyche is a self-regulating system.

In the treatment of neurosis, Jung saw the constructive method as
complementary, not in opposition, to the reductive approach of classical

We apply a largely reductive point of view
in all cases where it is a question of illusions, fictions, and exaggerated
attitudes. On the other hand, a constructive point of view must be considered
for all cases where the conscious attitude is more or less normal, but capable
of greater development and refinement, or where unconscious tendencies, also
capable of development, are being misunderstood and kept under by the conscious
mind.[“Analytical Psychology and Education,” CW 17, par. 195.]

Countertransference. A particular case of projection, used to
describe the unconscious emotional response of the analyst to the analysand in
a therapeutic relationship. (See also transference.)

A transference is answered by a
counter-transference from the analyst when it projects a content of which he is
unconscious but which nevertheless exists in him. The counter-transference is
then just as useful and meaningful, or as much of a hindrance, as the
transference of the patient, according to whether or not it seeks to establish
that better rapport which is essential for the realization of certain
unconscious contents. Like the transference, the counter-transference is
compulsive, a forcible tie, because it creates a “mystical” or
unconscious identity with the object[General Aspects of Dream Psychology,”
CW 8, par. 519.]

A workable analytic relationship is
predicated on the assumption that the analyst is not as neurotic as the
analysand. Although a lengthy personal analysis is the major requirement in the
training of analysts, this is no guarantee against projection.

Even if the analyst has no neurosis, but
only a rather more extensive area of unconsciousness than usual, this is
sufficient to produce a sphere of mutual unconsciousness, i.e., a
counter-transference. This phenomenon is one of the chief occupational hazards
of psychotherapy. It causes psychic infections in both analyst and patient and
brings the therapeutic process to a standstill. This state of unconscious
identity is also the reason why an analyst can help his patient just so far as
he himself has gone and not a step further.[Appendix,” CW 16, par. 545.]

Crucifixion. An archetypal motif associated with conflict
and the problem of the opposites.

Nobody who finds himself on the road to
wholeness can escape that characteristic suspension which is the meaning of
crucifixion. For he will infallibly run into things that thwart and
“cross” him: first, the thing he has no wish to be (the shadow);
second, the thing he is not (the “other,” the individual reality of
the “You”); and third, his psychic non-ego (the collective
unconscious).[The Psychology of the Transference,” ibid., par. 470.]

Depotentiate. The process of removing energy from an unconscious
content by assimilating its meaning.

Depression. A psychological state characterized by lack of
energy. (See also abaissement du niveau mental, final, libido, night
sea journey
and regression.) Energy not available to consciousness
does not simply vanish. It regresses and stirs up unconscious contents
(fantasies, memories, wishes, etc.) that for the sake of psychological health
need to be brought to light and examined.

Depression should therefore be regarded as
an unconscious compensation whose content must be made conscious if it is to be
fully effective. This can only be done by consciously regressing along with the
depressive tendency and integrating the memories so activated into the
conscious mind-which was what the depression was aiming at in the first
place.[“The Sacrifice,” CW 5, par. 625.]

Depression is not necessarily pathological.
It often foreshadows a renewal of the personality or a burst of creative

There are moments in human life when a new
page is turned. New interests and tendencies appear which have hitherto
received no attention, or there is a sudden change of personality (a so-called
mutation of character). During the incubation period of such a change we can
often observe a loss of conscious energy: the new development has drawn off the
energy it needs from consciousness. This lowering of energy can be seen most
clearly before the onset of certain psychoses and also in the empty stillness
which precedes creative work.[“The Psychology of the Transference,”
CW 16, par. 373.]

Differentiation. The separation of parts from a whole, necessary for
conscious access to the psychological functions.

So long as a function is still so fused
with one or more other functions-thinking with feeling, feeling with sensation,
etc.-that it is unable to operate on its own, it is in an archaic
condition, i.e., not differentiated, not separated from the whole as a special
part and existing by itself. Undifferentiated thinking is incapable of thinking
apart from other functions; it is continually mixed up with sensations,
feelings, intuitions, just as undifferentiated feeling is mixed up with
sensations and fantasies.[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 705.]

An undifferentiated function is characterized
by ambivalence (every position entails its own negative), which leads to
characteristic inhibitions in its use.

Differentiation consists in the separation
of the function from other functions, and in the separation of its individual
parts from each other. Without differentiation direction is impossible, since
the direction of a function towards a goal depends on the elimination of
anything irrelevant. Fusion with the irrelevant precludes direction; only a differentiated
function is capable of being directed.[ Ibid., par. 705.]

Dissociation. The splitting of a personality into its
component parts or complexes, characteristic of neurosis.

A dissociation is not healed by being
split off, but by more complete disintegration. All the powers that strive for
unity, all healthy desire for selfhood, will resist the disintegration, and in
this way he will become conscious of the possibility of an inner integration,
which before he had always sought outside himself. He will then find his reward
in an undivided self.[“Marriage as a Psychological Relationship,” CW
17, pars. 334f.]

In the analysis of neurotic breakdowns, the
aim is to make the conscious ego aware of autonomous complexes. This can be
done both through reductive analysis and by objectifying them in the process of
active imagination.

Every form of communication with the
split-off part of the psyche is therapeutically effective. This effect is also
brought about by the real or merely supposed discovery of the causes. Even when
the discovery is no more than an assumption or a fantasy, it has a healing
effect at least by suggestion if the analyst himself believes in it and makes a
serious attempt to understand.[The Philosophical Tree,” CW 13, par. 465.]

Dreams. Independent, spontaneous manifestations of the unconscious; fragments
of involuntary psychic activity just conscious enough to be reproducible in the
waking state.

Dreams are neither deliberate nor
arbitrary fabrications; they are natural phenomena which are nothing other than
what they pretend to be. They do not deceive, they do not lie, they do not
distort or disguise. . . . They are invariably seeking to express something
that the ego does not know and does not understand.[“Analytical Psychology
and Education,” CW 17, par. 189.]

In symbolic form, dreams picture the current
situation in the psyche from the point of view of the unconscious.

Since the meaning of most dreams is not
in accord with the tendencies of the conscious mind but shows peculiar
deviations, we must assume that the unconscious, the matrix of dreams, has an
independent function. This is what I call the autonomy of the unconscious. The
dream not only fails to obey our will but very often stands in flagrant
opposition to our conscious intentions[“On the Nature of Dreams,” CW
8, par. 545.]

Jung acknowledged that in some cases dreams
have a wish-fulfilling and sleep-preserving function (Freud) or reveal an
infantile striving for power (Adler), but he focused on their symbolic content
and their compensatory role in the self-regulation of the psyche: they reveal
aspects of oneself that are not normally conscious, they disclose unconscious
motivations operating in relationships and present new points of view in
conflict situations.

In this regard there are three
possibilities. If the conscious attitude to the life situation is in large
degree one-sided, then the dream takes the opposite side. If the conscious has
a position fairly near the “middle,” the dream is satisfied with
variations. If the conscious attitude is “correct” (adequate), then
the dream coincides with and emphasizes this tendency, though without
forfeiting its peculiar autonomy.[ Ibid., par. 546.]

In Jung’s view, a dream is an interior drama.

The whole dream-work is essentially
subjective, and a dream is a theatre in which the dreamer is himself the scene,
the player, the prompter, the producer, the author, the public, and the
critic.[“General Aspects of Dream Psychology,” ibid., par. 509.]

This conception gives rise to the
interpretation of dreams on the subjective level, where the images in them are
seen as symbolic representations of elements in the dreamer’s own personality.
Interpretation on the objective level refers the images to people and
situations in the outside world.

Many dreams have a classic dramatic structure. There is an exposition
(place, time and characters), which shows the initial situation of the dreamer.
In the second phase there is a development in the plot (action takes
place). The third phase brings the culmination or climax (a decisive
event occurs). The final phase is the lysis, the result or solution (if
any) of the action in the dream.

The central complex in the field of consciousness. (See also self.)

The ego, the subject of consciousness,
comes into existence as a complex quantity which is constituted partly by the
inherited disposition (character constituents) and partly by unconsciously
acquired impressions and their attendant phenomena [“Analytical Psychology
and Education,” CW 17, par. 169.]

Jung pointed out that knowledge of the
ego-personality is often confused with self-understanding.

Anyone who has any ego-consciousness at
all takes it for granted that he knows himself. But the ego knows only its own
contents, not the unconscious and its contents. People measure their
self-knowledge by what the average person in their social environment knows of
himself, but not by the real psychic facts which are for the most part hidden
from them. In this respect the psyche behaves like the body, of whose physiological
and anatomical structure the average person knows very little too. [“The
Undiscovered Self,” CW 10, par. 491.]

In the process of individuation, one of the
initial tasks is to differentiate the ego from the complexes in the personal
unconscious, particularly the persona, the shadow and anima/animus. A strong
ego can relate objectively to these and other contents of the unconscious
without identifying with them.

Because the ego experiences itself as the
center of the psyche, it is especially difficult to resist identification with
the self, to which it owes its existence and to which, in the hierarchy of the
psyche, it is subordinate.

The ego stands to the self as the moved to
the mover, or as object to subject, because the determining factors which radiate
out from the self surround the ego on all sides and are therefore supraordinate
to it. The self, like the unconscious, is an a priori existent out of
which the ego evolves.[“Transformation Symbolism in the Mass,” CW 11,
par. 391.]

Identification with the self can manifest in
two ways: the assimilation of the ego by the self, in which case the ego
falls under the control of the unconscious; or the assimilation of the self
to the ego
, where the ego becomes overaccentuated. In both cases the result
is inflation, with disturbances in adaptation.

In the first case, reality has to be
protected against an archaic . . . dream-state; in the second, room must be
made for the dream at the expense of the world of consciousness. In the first
case, mobilization of all the virtues is indicated; in the second, the
presumption of the ego can only be damped down by moral defeat.[The Self,”
CW 9ii, par. 47.]

Emotion. An involuntary reaction due to an active complex. (See also affect.)

On the one hand, emotion is the alchemical
fire whose warmth brings everything into existence and whose heat burns all
superfluities to ashes (omnes superfluitates comburit). But on the other hand,
emotion is the moment when steel meets flint and a spark is struck forth, for
emotion is the chief source of consciousness. There is no change from darkness
to light or from inertia to movement without emotion. [“Psychological
Aspects of the Mother Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 179.]

Empathy. An introjection of the object, based on the unconscious projection of
subjective contents. (Compare identification.)

Empathy presupposes a subjective attitude
of confidence, or trustfulness towards the object. It is a readiness to meet
the object halfway, a subjective assimilation that brings about a good
understanding between subject and object, or at least simulates it. [“The
Type Problem in Aesthetics,” CW 6, par. 489.]

In contrast to abstraction, associated with
introversion, empathy corresponds to the attitude of extraversion.

The man with the empathetic attitude finds
himself . . . in a world that needs his subjective feeling to give it life and
soul. He animates it with himself. [ Ibid., par. 492.]

Enantiodromia. Literally, “running counter to,” referring
to the emergence of the unconscious opposite in the course of time.

This characteristic phenomenon practically
always occurs when an extreme, one-sided tendency dominates conscious life; in
time an equally powerful counterposition is built up, which first inhibits the
conscious performance and subsequently breaks through the conscious control.
[Definitions,” ibid., par. 709.]

Enantiodromia is typically experienced in
conjunction with symptoms associated with acute neurosis, and often foreshadows
a rebirth of the personality.

The grand plan on which the unconscious life
of the psyche is constructed is so inaccessible to our understanding that we
can never know what evil may not be necessary in order to produce good by
enantiodromia, and what good may very possibly lead to evil.[The Phenomenology
of the Spirit in Fairytales,” CW 9i, par. 397.]

Energic. See final.

Eros. In Greek mythology, the personification of love, a cosmogonic force
of nature; psychologically, the function of relationship. (See also anima,
animus, Logos
and mother complex.)

Woman’s consciousness is characterized
more by the connective quality of Eros than by the discrimination and cognition
associated with Logos. In men, Eros . . . is usually less developed than Logos.
In women, on the other hand, Eros is an expression of their true nature, while
their Logos is often only a regrettable accident. [The Syzygy: Anima and
Animus,” CW 9ii, par. 29.]

Eros is a questionable fellow and will
always remain so . . . . He belongs on one side to man’s primordial animal
nature which will endure as long as man has an animal body. On the other side
he is related to the highest forms of the spirit. But he thrives only when
spirit and instinct are in right harmony.[The Eros Theory,” CW 7, par.

Where love reigns, there is no will to
power; and where the will to power is paramount, love is lacking. The one is
but the shadow of the other: the man who adopts the standpoint of Eros finds
his compensatory opposite in the will to power, and that of the man who puts
the accent on power is Eros.[The Problem of the Attitude-Type,” ibid.,
par. 78.]

An unconscious Eros always expresses
itself as will to power. [“Psychological Aspects of the Mother
Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 167.]

Extraversion. A mode of psychological orientation where the
movement of energy is toward the outer world. (Compare introversion.)

Extraversion is characterized by interest
in the external object, responsiveness, and a ready acceptance of external
happenings, a desire to influence and be influenced by events, a need to join
in and get “with it,” the capacity to endure bustle and noise of
every kind, and actually find them enjoyable, constant attention to the
surrounding world, the cultivation of friends and acquaintances, none too
carefully selected, and finally by the great importance attached to the figure one
cuts.[“Psychological Typology,” CW 6, par. 972.]

Jung believed that introversion and
extraversion were present in everyone, but that one attitude-type is invariably
dominant. When external factors are the prime motivating force for judgments,
perceptions, affects and actions, we have an extraverted attitude or type.

The extravert’s philosophy of life and his
ethics are as a rule of a highly collective nature with a strong streak of
altruism, and his conscience is in large measure dependent on public opinion.[

Jung believed that type differentiation
begins very early in life, so that it might be described as innate.

The earliest sign of extraversion in a
child is his quick adaptation to the environment, and the extraordinary
attention he gives to objects and especially to the effect he has on them. Fear
of objects is minimal; he lives and moves among them with confidence. . . and
can therefore play with them freely and learn through them. He likes to carry
his enterprises to the extreme and exposes himself to risks. Everything unknown
is alluring.[Psychological Types,” ibid., par. 896.]

In general, the extravert trusts what is
received from the outside world and is not inclined to examine personal

He has no secrets he has not long since shared
with others. Should something unmentionable nevertheless befall him, he prefers
to forget it. Anything that might tarnish the parade of optimism and positivism
is avoided. Whatever he thinks, intends, and does is displayed with conviction
and warmth.[“Psychological Typology,” ibid., par. 973.]

Although everyone is affected by objective
data, the extravert’s thoughts, decisions and behavior are determined by them.
Personal views and the inner life take second place to outer conditions.

He lives in and through others; all
self-communings give him the creeps. Dangers lurk there which are better
drowned out by noise. If he should ever have a “complex,” he finds
refuge in the social whirl and allows himself to be assured several times a day
that everything is in order. [ Ibid., par. 974.]

The psychic life of the extreme extraverted
type is enacted wholly in reaction to the environment, which determines the
personal standpoint. If the mores change, he adjusts his views and behavior
patterns to match. This is both a strength and a limitation.

Adjustment is not adaptation; adaptation .
. . requires observance of laws more universal than the immediate conditions of
time and place. The very adjustment of the normal extraverted type is his
limitation. He owes his normality . . . to his ability to fit into existing
conditions with comparative ease. His requirements are limited to the
objectively possible, for instance to the career that holds out good prospects
at this particular moment; he does what is needed of him, or what is expected
of him, and refrains from all innovations that are not entirely self-evident or
that in any way exceed the expectations of those around him[“General
Description of the Types,” CW 6, par. 564.]

Extraversion is an asset in social situations
and in relating to the external environment. But a too-extraverted attitude may
result in sacrificing oneself in order to fulfil what one sees as objective
demands-the needs of others, for instance, or the requirements of an expanding

This is the extravert’s danger: He gets
sucked into objects and completely loses himself in them. The resultant
functional disorders, nervous or physical, have a compensatory value, as they
force him into an involuntary self-restraint. Should the symptoms be functional,
their peculiar character may express his psychological situation in symbolic
form; for instance, a singer whose fame has risen to dangerous heights that
tempt him to expend too much energy suddenly finds he cannot sing high notes .
. . . Or a man of modest beginnings who rapidly reaches a social position of
great influence with wide prospects is suddenly afflicted with all the symptoms
of mountain sickness.[ Ibid., par. 565.]

The form of neurosis most likely to afflict
the extravert is hysteria, which typically manifests as a pronounced
identification with persons in the immediate environment.

The extravert’s tendency to sacrifice inner reality to outer circumstances is
not a problem as long as the extraversion is not too extreme. But to the extent
that it becomes necessary to compensate the inclination to one-sidedness, there
will arise a markedly self-centered tendency in the unconscious. All those
needs or desires that are stifled or repressed by the conscious attitude come
in the back door, in the form of infantile thoughts and emotions that center on

The more complete the conscious attitude
of extraversion is, the more infantile and archaic the unconscious attitude
will be. The egoism which characterizes the extravert’s unconscious attitude
goes far beyond mere childish selfishness; it verges on the ruthless and
brutal. [ Ibid., par. 572.]

The danger then is that the extravert, so
habitually and apparently selflessly attuned to the outside world and the needs
of others, may suddenly become quite indifferent.

Fantasy. A complex of ideas or imaginative activity expressing the flow of
psychic energy. (See also active imagination.)

A fantasy needs to be understood both
causally and purposively. Causally interpreted, it seems like a symptom
of a physiological state, the outcome of antecedent events. Purposively
interpreted, it seems like a symbol, seeking to characterize a definite goal
with the help of the material at hand, or trace out a line of future
psychological development. [“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 720.]

Jung distinguished between active and passive
fantasies. The for-mer, characteristic of the creative mentality, are evoked by
an intuitive attitude directed toward the perception of unconscious contents;
passive fantasies are spontaneous and autonomous manifestations of unconscious

Passive fantasy, therefore, is always in
need of conscious criticism, lest it merely reinforce the standpoint of the
unconscious opposite. Whereas active fantasy, as the product of a conscious
attitude not opposed to the unconscious, and of unconscious processes not
opposed but merely compensatory to consciousness, does not require criticism so
much as understanding.[Ibid., par. 714.]

Jung developed the method of active
imagination as a way of assimilating the meaning of fantasies. The important
thing is not to interpret but to experience them.

Continual conscious realization of
unconscious fantasies, together with active participation in the fantastic
events, has . . . the effect firstly of extending the conscious horizon by the
inclusion of numerous unconscious contents; secondly of gradually diminishing
the dominant influence of the unconscious; and thirdly of bringing about a
change of personality. [The Technique of Differentiation,” CW 7, par. 358.]

Father complex. A group of feeling-toned ideas associated with the
experience and image of father. (See also Logos.)

In men, a positive father-complex very
often produces a certain credulity with regard to authority and a distinct
willingness to bow down before all spiritual dogmas and values; while in women,
it induces the liveliest spiritual aspirations and interests. In dreams, it is
always the father-figure from whom the decisive convictions, prohibitions, and
wise counsels emanate. [The Phenomenology of the Spirit in Fairytales,” CW
9i, par. 396.]

Jung’s comments on the father complex were
rarely more than asides in writing about something else. In general, the father
complex in a man manifests in the persona (through identification) and as
aspects of his shadow; in a woman, it manifests in the nature of the animus,
colored by the projection of her father’s anima.

The father exerts his influence on the
mind or spirit of his daughter-on her “Logos.” This he does by
increasing her intellectuality, often to a pathological degree which in my
later writings I have described as “animus possession.”[The Origin of
the Hero,” CW 5, par. 272.]

The father is the first carrier of the
animus-image. He endows this virtual image with substance and form, for on
account of his Logos he is the source of “spirit” for the daughter.
Unfortunately this source is often sullied just where we would expect clean
water. For the spirit that benefits a woman is not mere intellect, it is far
more: it is an attitude, the spirit by which a man lives. Even a so-called
“ideal” spirit is not always the best if it does not understand how
to deal adequately with nature, that is, with animal man. . . . Hence every
father is given the opportunity to corrupt, in one way or another, his daughter’s
nature, and the educator, husband, or psychiatrist then has to face the music.
For “what has been spoiled by the father”[ A reference to Hexagram 18
in the I Ching (Richard Wilhelm edition, p. 80): “Work ok on What Has Been
Spoiled.”] can only be made good by a father.[The Personification of the
Opposites,” CW 14, par. 232.]

Feeling. The psychological function that evaluates or judges what
something or someone is worth. (Compare thinking.)

A feeling is as indisputable a reality as
the existence of an idea. [The Psychology of the Transference,” CW 16,
par. 531.]

The feeling function is the basis for
“fight or flight” decisions. As a subjective process, it may be quite
independent of external stimuli. In Jung’s view it is a rational function, like
thinking, in that it is decisively influenced not by perception (as are the
functions of sensation and intuition) but by reflection. A person whose overall
attitude is oriented by the feeling function is called a feeling type.

In everyday usage, feeling is often confused with emotion. The latter, more
appropriately called affect, is the result of an activated complex. Feeling not
contaminated by affect can be quite cold.

Feeling is distinguished from affect by
the fact that it produces no perceptible physical innervations, i.e., neither
more nor less than an ordinary thinking process. [Definitions,” CW 6, par.

Feminine. See anima, Eros and Logos.

Final. A point of view based on the potential result or purpose of psychic
activity, complementary to a causal approach. (See also constructive,
neurosis, reductive
, and self-regulation of the psyche.)

Psychological data necessitate a twofold
point of view, namely that of causality and that of finality. I
use the word finality intentionally, in order to avoid confusion with the
concept of teleology. [Teleology implies the anticipation of a particular
end or goal; finality assumes purpose but an essentially unknown goal.]
finality I mean merely the immanent psychological striving for a goal. Instead
of “striving for a goal” one could also say “sense of
purpose.” All psychological phenomena have some such sense of purpose
inherent in them, even merely reactive phenomena like emotional reactions.[
“General Aspects of Dream Psychology,” CW 8, par. 456.]

Jung also called the final point of view
energic, contrasting it with mechanistic or reductive.

The mechanistic view is purely causal; it
conceives an event as the effect of a cause, in the sense that unchanging
substances change their relations to one another according to fixed laws. The
energic point of view on the other hand is in essence final; the event is
traced back from effect to cause on the assumption that some kind of energy
underlies the changes in phenomena, that it maintains itself as a constant
throughout these changes and finally leads to entropy, a condition of general
equilibrium. The flow of energy has a definite direction (goal) in that it
follows the gradient of potential in a way that cannot be reversed.[On Psychic
Energy,” ibid., pars. 2f.]

Jung believed that laws governing the
physical conservation of energy applied equally to the psyche. Psychologically,
this means that where there is an overabundance of energy in one place, some
other psychic function has been deprived; conversely, when libido “disap-pears,”
as it seems to do in a depression, it must appear in another form, for instance
as a symptom.

Every time we come across a person who has
a “bee in his bonnet,” or a morbid conviction, or some extreme
attitude, we know that there is too much libido, and that the excess must have
been taken from somewhere else where, consequently, there is too little. . . .
Thus the symptoms of a neurosis must be regarded as exaggerated functions
over-invested with libido. . . .The question has to be reversed in the case of
those syndromes characterized mainly by lack of libido, for instance apathetic
states. Here we have to ask, where did the libido go? . . . The libido is
there, but it is not visible and is inaccessible to the patient himself. . . .
It is the task of psychoanalysis to search out that hidden place where the
libido dwells.[The Theory of Psychoanalysis,” CW 4, pars. 254f]

The energic or final point of view, coupled
with the concept of compensation, led Jung to believe that an outbreak of
neurosis is essentially an attempt by the psyche to cure itself.

Fourth function. See inferior function.

Function. A form of psychic activity, or manifestation of libido, that remains
the same in principle under varying conditions. (See also auxiliary
function, differentiation, inferior function, primary function
and typology.)

Jung’s model of typology distinguishes four
psychological functions: thinking, feeling, sensation and intuition.

Sensation establishes what is actually
present, thinking enables us to recognize its meaning, feeling tells us its
value, and intuition points to possibilities as to whence it came and whither
it is going in a given situation.[“A Psychological Theory of Types,”
CW 6, par. 958.]

Though all the functions exist in every
psyche, one function is invariably more consciously developed than the others,
giving rise to a one-sidedness that often leads to neurosis.

The more [a man] identifies with one
function, the more he invests it with libido, and the more he withdraws libido
from the other functions. They can tolerate being deprived of libido for even
quite long periods, but in the end they will react. Being drained of libido,
they gradually sink below the threshold of consciousness, lose their
associative connection with it, and finally lapse into the unconscious. This is
a regressive development, a reversion to the infantile and finally to the
archaic level. . . . [which] brings about a dissociation of the
personality.[The Type Problem in Aesthetics,” ibid., pars. 502f.]

Hero. An archetypal motif based on overcoming obstacles and achieving
certain goals.

The hero’s main feat is to overcome the
monster of darkness: it is the long-hoped-for and expected triumph of
consciousness over the unconscious.[The Psychology of the Child
Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 284.]

The hero myth is an unconscious drama seen
only in projection, like the happenings in Plato’s parable of the cave.[The
Dual Mother,” CW 5, par. 612.]

The hero symbolizes a man’s unconscious
self, and this manifests itself empirically as the sum total of all archetypes
and therefore includes the archetype of the father and of the wise old man. To
that extent the hero is his own father and his own begetter [Ibid., par. 516.]

Mythologically, the hero’s goal is to find
the treasure, the princess, the ring, the golden egg, elixir of life, etc.
Psychologically these are metaphors for one’s true feelings and unique
potential. In the process of individuation, the heroic task is to assimilate
unconscious contents as opposed to being overwhelmed by them. The potential
result is the release of energy that has been tied up with unconscious

In myths the hero is the one who conquers
the dragon, not the one who is devoured by it. And yet both have to deal with
the same dragon. Also, he is no hero who never met the dragon, or who, if he
once saw it, declared afterwards that he saw nothing. Equally, only one who has
risked the fight with the dragon and is not overcome by it wins the hoard, the
“treasure hard to attain.” He alone has a genuine claim to self-confidence,
for he has faced the dark ground of his self and thereby has gained himself. .
. . He has acquired the right to believe that he will be able to overcome all
future threats by the same means.[“The Conjunction,” CW 14, par.

The hero’s journey is a round as illustrated
in the diagram. [Adapted from Joseph Campbell, Hero with a Thousand Faces,
Bollingen Series XVII (Princeton University press, 1949), p. 245.]

Call to Adventure

In myth and legend, the hero typically
travels by ship, fights a sea monster, is swallowed, struggles against being
bitten or crushed to death, and having arrived inside the belly of the whale,
like Jonah, seeks the vital organ and cuts it off, thereby winning release.
Eventually he must return to his beginnings and bear witness.

In terms of a man’s individuation, the whale-dragon is the mother or the
mother-bound anima. The vital organ that must be severed is the umbilical cord.

The hero is the ideal masculine type:
leaving the mother, the source of life, behind him, he is driven by an
unconscious desire to find her again, to return to her womb. Every obstacle
that rises in his path and hampers his ascent wears the shadowy features of the
Terrible Mother, who saps his strength with the poison of secret doubt and
retrospective longing.[“The Dual Mother,” CW 5, par. 611.]

In a woman’s psychology, the hero’s journey
is lived out through the worldly exploits of the animus, or else in a male
partner, through projection.

Homosexuality. Usually characterized psychologically by
identification with the anima. (See also mother complex.) Jung
acknowledged the potential neurotic effects of homosexuality, but he did not
see it as an illness in itself.

In view of the recognized frequency of
this phenomenon, its interpretation as a pathological perversion is very
dubious. The psychological findings show that it is rather a matter of
incomplete detachment from the hermaphroditic archetype, coupled with a
distinct resistance to identify with the role of a one-sided sexual being. Such
a disposition should not be adjudged negative in all circumstances, in so far
as it preserves the archetype of the Original Man, which a one-sided sexual
being has, up to a point, lost.[“Concerning the Archetypes and the Anima
Concept,” CW 9i, par. 146.]

Hostile brothers. An archetypal motif associated with the opposites
constellated in a conflict situation. Examples of the hostile brothers
motif in mythology are the struggle between Gilgamesh and Enkidu in The
Gilgamesh Epic,
and the Biblical story of Cain and Abel. Psychologically,
it is generally interpreted in terms of the tug of war between ego and shadow.

Hysteria. A state of mind marked by an exaggerated rapport with persons in the
immediate environment and an adjustment to surrounding conditions that amounts
to imitation.

Hysteria is, in my view, by far the most
frequent neurosis of the extraverted type. . . . A constant tendency to make
himself interesting and produce an impression is a basic feature of the
hysteric. The corollary of this is his proverbial suggestibility, his proneness
to another person’s influence. Another unmistakable sign of the extraverted
hysteric is his effusiveness, which occasionally carries him into the realm of
fantasy, so that he is accused of the “hysterical lie.”[“General
Description of the Types,” CW 6, par. 566.]

Hysterical neurosis is usually accompanied by
compensatory reactions from the unconscious.

[These] counteract the exaggerated
extraversion by means of physical symptoms that force the libido to introvert.
The reaction of the unconscious produces another class of symptoms having a
more introverted character, one of the most typical being a morbid
intensification of fantasy activity.[ Ibid., par. 566.]

Identification. A psychological process in which
the personality is partially or totally dissimilated. (See also participation
and projection.)

Identity, denoting an unconscious conformity between subject and object, oneself
and others, is the basis for identification, projection and introjection.

Identity is
responsible for the naïve assumption that the psychology of one man is like
that of another, that the same motives occur everywhere, that what is agreeable
to me must obviously be pleasurable for others, that what I find immoral must
also be immoral for them, and so on. It is also responsible for the almost
universal desire to correct in others what most needs correcting in
oneself.[“Definitions,” ibid., par. 742.]

facilitates early adaptation to the outside world, but in later life becomes a
hindrance to individual development.

For example,
identification with the father means, in practice, adopting all the father’s
ways of behaving, as though the son were the same as the father and not a
separate individuality. Identification differs from imitation in that it is an
unconscious imitation, whereas imitation is a conscious copying. . . .
Identification can be beneficial so long as the individual cannot go his own
way. But when a better possibility presents itself, identification shows its
morbid character by becoming just as great a hindrance as it was an unconscious
help and support before. It now has a dissociative effect, splitting the
individual into two mutually estranged personalities.[ Ibid., par. 738.]

Identification with a
complex (experienced as possession) is a frequent source of neurosis, but it is
also possible to identify with a particular idea or belief.

The ego keeps its
integrity only if it does not identify with one of the opposites, and if it
understands how to hold the balance between them. This is possible only if it
remains conscious of both at once. However, the necessary insight is made
exceedingly difficult not by one’s social and political leaders alone, but also
by one’s religious mentors. They all want decision in favour of one thing, and
therefore the utter identification of the individual with a necessarily
one-sided “truth.” Even if it were a question of some great truth,
identification with it would still be a catastrophe, as it arrests all further
spiritual development.[On the Nature of the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 425.]

One-sidedness is usually
due to identifying with a particular conscious attitude. This can result in
losing touch with the compensating powers of the unconscious.

In a case like this
the unconscious usually responds with violent emotions, irritability, lack of
control, arrogance, feelings of inferiority, moods, depressions, outbursts of
rage, etc., coupled with lack of self-criticism and the misjudgments, mistakes,
and delusions which this entails.[“The Philosophical Tree,” CW 13,
par. 454.]

Image, primordial. See archetype
and archetypal image.

Imago. A term used to differentiate the
objective reality of a person or a thing from the subjective perception of its

The image we form of a
human object is, to a very large extent, subjectively conditioned. In practical
psychology, therefore, we would do well to make a rigorous distinction between
the image or imago of a man and his real existence. Because of its
extremely subjective origin, the imago is frequently more an image of a
subjective functional complex than of the object itself. In the analytical
treatment of unconscious products it is essential that the imago should
not be assumed to be identical with the object; it is better to regard it as an
image of the subjective relation to the object. [“Definitions,” CW 6,
par. 812.]

Imagos are the
consequence of personal experience combined with archetypal images in the
collective unconscious. Like everything else unconscious, they are experienced
in projection.

The more limited a
man’s field of consciousness is, the more numerous the psychic contents
(imagos) which meet him as quasi-external apparitions, either in the form of
spirits, or as magical potencies projected upon living people (magicians,
witches, etc.)[“The Function of the Unconscious,” CW 7, par. 295.]

Incest. Psychologically, the regressive
longing for the security of childhood and early youth.
Jung interpreted incest images in dreams and fantasies not concretely but
symbolically, as indicating the need for a new adaptation more in accord with
the instincts. (This differed so radically from the psychoanalytic view that it
led to his break with Freud.)

So long as the child
is in that state of unconscious identity with the mother, he is still one with
the animal psyche and is just as unconscious as it. The development of
consciousness inevitably leads not only to separation from the mother, but to
separation from the parents and the whole family circle and thus to a relative
degree of detachment from the unconscious and the world of instinct. Yet the
longing for this lost world continues and, when difficult adaptations are
demanded, is forever tempting one to make evasions and retreats, to regress to
the infantile past, which then starts throwing up the incestuous symbolism.
[Symbols of the Mother and of Rebirth,” CW 5, par. 351.]

Whenever [the] drive
for wholeness appears, it begins by disguising itself under the symbolism of
incest, for, unless he seeks it in himself, a man’s nearest feminine
counterpart is to be found in his mother, sister, or daughter. [“The
Psychology of the Transference,” CW 16, par. 471.]

Individual. Unique and unlike anyone else,
distinguished from what is collective. (See also individuality.)

A distinction must be
made between individuality and the individual. The individual is determined on
the one hand by the principle of uniqueness and distinctiveness, and on the
other by the society to which he belongs. He is an indispensable link in the
social structure. [The Structure of the Unconscious,” CW 7, par. 519.]

The individual is
precisely that which can never be merged with the collective and is never
identical with it.[ Ibid., par. 485.]

The larger a community
is, and the more the sum total of collective factors peculiar to every large
community rests on conservative prejudices detrimental to individuality, the
more will the individual be morally and spiritually crushed, and, as a result,
the one source of moral and spiritual progress for society is choked up.[The
Assimilation of the Unconscious,” ibid., par. 240.]

The individual standpoint
is not antagonistic to collective norms, only differently oriented.

The individual way can
never be directly opposed to the collective norm, because the opposite of the
collective norm could only be another, but contrary, norm. But the individual
way can, by definition, never be a norm. [Definitions,” CW 6, par. 761.]

Jung believed that the
survival of the individual within a group depended not only on psychological
self-understanding, but also on the personal experience of a higher truth.

The individual will
never find the real justification for his existence and his own spiritual and
moral autonomy anywhere except in an extramundane principle capable of
relativizing the overpowering influence of external factors. . . . For this he
needs the evidence of inner, transcendent experience which alone can protect
him from the otherwise inevitable submersion in the mass.[The Undiscovered
Self,” CW 10, par. 511.]

Resistance to the
organized mass can be effected only by the man who is as well organized in his
individuality as the mass itself.
[Ibid., par. 540 (italics in original).]

Individualism. A belief in the supremacy of
individual interests over those of the collective, not to be confused with individuality
or individuation.

Individualism means
deliberately stressing and giving prominence to some supposed peculiarity
rather than to collective considerations and obligations. But individuation
means precisely the better and more complete fulfilment of the collective
qualities of the human being, since adequate consideration of the peculiarity
of the individual is more conducive to a better social performance than when
the peculiarity is neglected or suppressed.
. . . . Since the universal factors always appear only in individual form, a
full consideration of them will also produce an individual effect, and one
which cannot be surpassed by anything else, least of all by
individualism.[“The Function of the Unconscious,” CW 7, pars. 267f.]

Individuality. The qualities or characteristics
that distinguish one person from another. (See also personality.)

By individuality I
mean the peculiarity and singularity of the individual in every psychological
respect. Everything that is not collective is individual, everything in fact
that pertains only to one individual and not to a larger group of
individuals.[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 756.]

The psychological
individual, or his individuality, has an a priori unconscious existence, but
exists consciously only so far as a consciousness of his peculiar nature is
present . . . . A conscious process of differentiation, or individuation, is
needed to bring the individuality to consciousness, i.e., to raise it out of
the state of identity with the object.[ Ibid., par. 755.]

In the undifferentiated
psyche, individuality is subjectively identified with the persona but is
actually possessed by an inner, unrecognized aspect of oneself. In such cases,
one’s individuality is commonly experienced in another person, through
projection. If and when this situation becomes intolerable to the psyche,
appropriate images appear in an attempt at compensation.

This . . . frequently
gives rise in dreams to the symbol of psychic pregnancy, a symbol that goes
back to the primordial image of the hero’s birth. The child that is to be born
signifies the individuality, which, though present, is not yet
conscious.[Ibid., par. 806.]

Individuation. A process of psychological differentiation,
having for its goal the development of the individual personality.

In general, it is the
process by which individual beings are formed and differentiated; in
particular, it is the development of the psychological individual as a being
distinct from the general, collective psychology.[ Ibid., par. 757.]

The aim of
individuation is nothing less than to divest the self of the false wrappings of
the persona on the one hand, and of the suggestive power of primordial images
on the other.[“The Function of the Unconscious,” CW 7, par. 269. ]

Individuation is a
process informed by the archetypal ideal of wholeness, which in turn depends on
a vital relationship between ego and unconscious. The aim is not to overcome
one’s personal psychology, to become perfect, but to become familiar with it.
Thus individuation involves an increasing awareness of one’s unique
psychological reality, including personal strengths and limitations, and at the
same time a deeper appreciation of humanity in general.

As the individual is
not just a single, separate being, but by his very existence presupposes a
collective relationship, it follows that the process of individuation must lead
to more intense and broader collective relationships and not to isolation.[Definitions,”
CW 6, par. 758.]

Individuation does not
shut one out from the world, but gathers the world to itself.[“On the
Nature of the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 432.]

Individuation has two
principle aspects: in the first place it is an internal and subjective process
of integration, and in the second it is an equally indispensable process of
objective relationship. Neither can exist without the other, although sometimes
the one and sometimes the other predominates.[The Psychology of the
Transference,” CW 16, par. 448.]

Individuation and a life
lived by collective values are nevertheless two divergent destinies. In Jung’s
view they are related to one another by guilt. Whoever embarks on the personal
path becomes to some extent estranged from collective values, but does not
thereby lose those aspects of the psyche which are inherently collective. To
atone for this “desertion,” the individual is obliged to create
something of worth for the benefit of society.

Individuation cuts one
off from personal conformity and hence from collectivity. That is the guilt
which the individuant leaves behind him for the world, that is the guilt he
must endeavor to redeem. He must offer a ransom in place of himself, that is,
he must bring forth values which are an equivalent substitute for his absence
in the collective personal sphere. Without this production of values, final
individuation is immoral and-more than that-suicidal. . . .
The individuant has no a priori claim to any kind of esteem. He has to
be content with whatever esteem flows to him from outside by virtue of the
values he creates. Not only has society a right, it also has a duty to condemn
the individuant if he fails to create equivalent values.[“Adaptation,
Individuation, Collectivity,” CW 18, pars. 1095f.]

Individuation differs
from individualism in that the former deviates from collective norms but
retains respect for them, while the latter eschews them entirely.

A real conflict with
the collective norm arises only when an individual way is raised to a norm,
which is the actual aim of extreme individualism. Naturally this aim is
pathological and inimical to life. It has, accordingly, nothing to do with
individuation, which, though it may strike out on an individual bypath,
precisely on that account needs the norm for its orientation to society and for
the vitally necessary relationship of the individual to society. Individuation,
therefore, leads to a natural esteem for the collective norm.
[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 761.]

The process of
individuation, consciously pursued, leads to the realization of the self as a
psychic reality greater than the ego. Thus individuation is essentially
different from the process of simply becoming conscious.

The goal of the
individuation process is the synthesis of the self. [The Psychology of the
Child Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 278.]

Again and again I note
that the individuation process is confused with the coming of the ego into
consciousness and that the ego is in consequence identified with the self,
which naturally produces a hopeless conceptual muddle. Individuation is then
nothing but ego-centredness and autoeroticism. But the self comprises
infinitely more than a mere ego, as the symbolism has shown from of old. It is
as much one’s self, and all other selves, as the ego.[On the Nature of the
Psyche,” CW 8, par. 432.]

In Jung’s view, no one is
ever completely individuated. While the goal is wholeness and a healthy working
relationship with the self, the true value of individuation lies in what
happens along the way.

The goal is important
only as an idea; the essential thing is the opus which leads to the goal: that
is the goal of a lifetime.[“The Psychology of the Transference,” CW
16, par. 400.]

Inferior function. The least differentiated of the
four psychological functions. (Compare primary function.)

The inferior function
is practically identical with the dark side of the human
personality.[“Concerning Rebirth,” CW 9i, par. 222.]

In Jung’s model of
typology, the inferior or fourth function is opposite to the superior or
primary function. Whether it operates in an introverted or extraverted way, it
behaves like an autonomous complex; its activation is marked by affect and it
resists integration.

The inferior function
secretly and mischievously influences the superior function most of all, just
as the latter represses the former most strongly.[“The Phenomenology of
the Spirit in Fairytales,” ibid., par. 431.]

Positive as well as
negative occurrences can constellate the inferior counter-function. When this
happens, sensitiveness appears. Sensi-tiveness is a sure sign of of the
presence of inferiority. This provides the psychological basis for discord and
misunderstanding, not only as between two people, but also in ourselves. The
essence of the inferior function is autonomy: it is independent, it attacks, it
fascinates and so spins us about that we are no longer masters of ourselves and
can no longer rightly distinguish between ourselves and others[“The
Problem of the Attitude-Type,” CW 7, par. 85.]

The inferior function is
always of the same nature, rational or irrational, as the primary function:
when thinking is most developed, the other rational function, feeling, is
inferior; if sensation is dominant, then intuition, the other irrational
function, is the fourth function, and so on. This accords with general
experience: the thinker is tripped up by feeling values; the practical
sensation type gets into a rut, blind to the possibilities seen by intuition;
the feeling type is deaf to logical thinking; and the intuitive, at home in the
inner world, runs afoul of concrete reality.

One may be aware of the perceptions or judgments associated with the inferior
function, but these are generally over-ridden by the superior function.
Thinking types, for example, do not give their feelings much weight. Sensation
types have intuitions, but they are not motivated by them. Similarly, feeling
types brush away disturbing thoughts and intuitives ignore what is right in
front of them.

Although the inferior
function may be conscious as a phenomenon its true significance nevertheless
remains unrecognized. It behaves like many repressed or insufficiently
appreciated contents, which are partly conscious and partly unconscious . . . .
Thus in normal cases the inferior function remains conscious, at least in its
effects; but in a neurosis it sinks wholly or in part into the unconscious.
[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 764.]

To the extent that a
person functions too one-sidedly, the inferior function becomes correspondingly
primitive and troublesome. The overly dominant primary function takes energy
away from the inferior function, which falls into the unconscious. There it is
prone to be activated in an unnatural way, giving rise to infantile desires and
other symptoms of imbalance. This is the situation in neurosis.

In order to extricate
the inferior function from the unconscious by analysis, the unconscious fantasy
formations that have now been activated must be brought to the surface. The
conscious realization of these fantasies brings the inferior function to
consciousness and makes further development possible.[Ibid., par. 764.]

When it becomes desirable
or necessary to develop the inferior function, this can only happen gradually.

I have frequently
observed how an analyst, confronted with a terrific thinking type, for instance,
will do his utmost to develop the feeling function directly out of the
unconscious. Such an attempt is foredoomed to failure, because it involves too
great a violation of the conscious standpoint. Should the violation
nevertheless be successful, a really compulsive dependence of the patient on
the analyst ensues, a transference that can only be brutally terminated,
because, having been left without a standpoint, the patient has made his
standpoint the analyst. . . . [Therefore] in order to cushion the impact of the
unconscious, an irrational type needs a stronger development of the rational
auxiliary function present in consciousness [and vice versa].[“General
Description of the Types,” ibid., par. 670.]

Attempts to assimilate
the inferior function are usually accompanied by a deterioration in the primary
function. The thinking type can’t write an essay, the sensation type gets lost
and forgets appointments, the intuitive loses touch with possibilities, and the
feeling type can’t decide what something’s worth.

And yet it is
necessary for the development of character that we should allow the other side,
the inferior function, to find expression. We cannot in the long run allow one
part of our personality to be cared for symbiotically by another; for the moment
when we might have need of the other function may come at any time and find us
unprepared. [“The Problem of the Attitude-Type,” CW 7, par. 86.]

Inflation. A state of mind characterized by
an exaggerated sense of self-importance, often compensated by feelings of
inferiority. (See also mana-personality and negative inflation.)
Inflation, whether positive or negative, is a symptom of psychological
possession, indicating the need to assimilate unconscious complexes or
disidentify from the self.

An inflated
consciousness is always egocentric and conscious of nothing but its own
existence. It is incapable of learning from the past, incapable of
understanding contemporary events, and incapable of drawing right conclusions
about the future. It is hypnotized by itself and therefore cannot be argued
with. It inevitably dooms itself to calamities that must strike it dead.
Paradoxically enough, inflation is a regression of consciousness into
unconsciousness. This always happens when consciousness takes too many unconscious
contents upon itself and loses the faculty of discrimination, the sine qua non
of all consciousness.[“Epilogue,” CW 12, par. 563.]

[Inflation] should not
be interpreted as . . . conscious self-aggrandizement. Such is far from being
the rule. In general we are not directly conscious of this condition at all,
but can at best infer its existence indirectly from the symptoms. These include
the reactions of our immediate environment. Inflation magnifies the blind spot
in the eye.[The Self,” CW 9ii, par. 44.]

Instinct. An involuntary drive toward
certain activities. (See also archetype and archetypal image.)

All psychic processes
whose energies are not under conscious control are
instinctive.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 765.]

Instincts in their
original strength can render social adaptation almost impossible.[“The
Transcendent Function,” CW 8, par. 161.]

Instinct is not an
isolated thing, nor can it be isolated in practice. It always brings in its
train archetypal contents of a spiritual nature, which are at once its
foundation and its limitation. In other words, an instinct is always and
inevitably coupled with something like a philosophy of life, however archaic,
unclear, and hazy this may be. Instinct stimulates thought, and if a man does
not think of his own free will, then you get compulsive thinking, for the two
poles of the psyche, the physiological and the mental, are indissolubly
connected. [“Psychotherapy and a Philosophy of Life,” CW 16, par.

Psychic processes which
ordinarily are consciously controlled can become instinctive when imbued with
unconscious energy. This is liable to occur when the level of consciousness is
low, due to fatigue, intoxication, depression, etc. Conversely, instincts can
be modified according to the extent that they are civilized and under
con-scious control, a process Jung called psychization.

An instinct which has
undergone too much psychization can take its revenge in the form of an
autonomous complex. This is one of the chief causes of
neurosis.[“Psychological Factors in Human Behaviour,” CW 8, par.

Too much of the animal
distorts the civilized man, too much civilization makes sick animals.[The Eros
Theory,” CW 7, par. 32.]

Jung identified five
prominent groups of instinctive factors: creativity, reflection, activity,
sexuality and hunger. Hunger is a primary instinct of self-preservation,
perhaps the most fundamental of all drives. Sexuality is a close second,
particularly prone to psychization, which makes it possible to divert its
purely biological energy into other channels. The urge to activity
manifests in travel, love of change, restlessness and play. Under reflection,
Jung included the religious urge and the search for meaning. Creativity
was for Jung in a class by itself. His descriptions of it refer specifically to
the impulse to create art.

Though we cannot
classify it with a high degree of accuracy, the creative instinct is
something that deserves special mention. I do not know if “instinct”
is the correct word. We use the term “creative instinct” because this
factor behaves at least dynamically, like an instinct. Like instinct it is
compulsive, but it is not common, and it is not a fixed and invariably
inherited organization. Therefore I prefer to designate the creative impulse as
a psychic factor similar in nature to instinct, having indeed a very close
connection with the instincts, but without being identical with any one of
them. Its connections with sexuality are a much discussed problem and,
furthermore, it has much in common with the drive to activity and the
reflective instinct. But it can also suppress them, or make them serve it to
the point of the self-destruction of the individual. Creation is as much
destruction as construction.[“Psychological Factors in Human
Behaviour,” CW 8, par. 245.]

Jung also believed that
true creativity could only be enhanced by the analytic process.

Creative power is
mightier than its possessor. If it is not so, then it is a feeble thing, and
given favourable conditions will nourish an endearing talent, but no more. If,
on the other hand, it is a neurosis, it often takes only a word or a look for
the illusion to go up in smoke. . . . Disease has never yet fostered creative
work; on the contrary, it is the most formidable obstacle to creation. No
breaking down of repressions can ever destroy true creativeness, just as no
analysis can ever exhaust the unconscious.[Analytical Psychology and
Education,” CW 17, par. 206.]

Instinct and archetype
are a pair of opposites, inextricably linked and therefore often difficult to
tell apart.

Psychic processes seem
to be balances of energy flowing between spirit and instinct, though the
question of whether a process is to be described as spiritual or as instinctual
remains shrouded in darkness. Such evaluation or interpretation depends
entirely upon the standpoint or state of the conscious mind.[On the Nature of
the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 407.]

When consciousness become
overspiritualized, straying too far from its instinctual foundation,
self-regulating processes within the psyche become active in an attempt to
correct the balance. This is often signaled in dreams by animal symbols,
particularly snakes.

The snake is the
representative of the world of instinct, especially of those vital processes
which are psychologically the least accessible of all. Snake dreams always
indicate a discrepancy between the attitude of the conscious mind and instinct,
the snake being a personification of the threatening aspect of that
conflict.[The Sacrifice,” CW 5, par. 615.]

Introjection. A process of assimilation
of object to subject, the opposite of projection.

Introjection is a
process of extraversion, since assimilation to the object requires empathy and
an investment of the object with libido. A passive and an active introjection
may be distinguished: transference phenomena in the treatment of the neuroses
belong to the former category, and, in general, all cases where the object
exercises a compelling influence on the subject, while empathy as a process of
adaptation belongs to the latter category.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 768.]

Introspection. A process of reflection
that focuses on personal reactions, behavior patterns and attitudes. (See also meditation.)

The difference between introspection and introversion is that the latter refers
to the direction in which energy naturally moves, while the former refers to
self-examination. Neither introverts nor those with a well-developed thinking
function have a monopoly on introspection.

Introversion. A mode of psychological orientation
where the movement of energy is toward the inner world. (Compare extraversion.)

Everyone whose
attitude is introverted thinks, feels, and acts in a way that clearly
demonstrates that the subject is the prime motivating factor and that the
object is of secondary importance. [ Ibid., par. 769.]

Always he has to prove
that everything he does rests on his own decisions and convictions, and never
because he is influenced by anyone, or desires to please or conciliate some
person or opinion.[“Psychological Types,” CW 6, par. 893.]

An introverted
consciousness can be well aware of external conditions, but is not motivated by
them. The extreme introvert responds primarily to internal impressions.

In a large gathering
he feels lonely and lost. The more crowded it is, the greater becomes his resistance.
He is not in the least “with it,” and has no love of enthusiastic
get-togethers. He is not a good mixer. What he does, he does in his own way,
barricading himself against influences from outside. . . . Under normal
conditions he is pessimistic and worried, because the world and human beings
are not in the least good but crush him. . . .His own world is a safe harbour,
a carefully tended and walled-in garden, closed to the public and hidden from
prying eyes. His own company is the best.[“Psychological Typology,”
ibid., pars. 976f.]

Signs of introversion in
a child are a reflective, thoughtful manner and resistance to outside

The child wants his
own way, and under no circumstances will he submit to an alien rule he cannot
understand. When he asks questions, it is not from curiosity or a desire to
create a sensation, but because he wants names, meanings, explanations to give
him subjective protection against the object.[“Psychological Types,”
ibid., par. 897.]

The introverted attitude
tends to devalue things and other persons, to deny their importance. Hence, by
way of compensation, extreme introversion leads to an unconscious reinforcement
of the object’s influence. This makes itself felt as a tie, with concomitant
emotional reactions, to outer circumstances or another person.

The individual’s
freedom of mind is fettered by the ignominy of his financial dependence, his
freedom of action trembles in the face of public opinion, his moral superiority
collapses in a morass of inferior relationships, and his desire to dominate
ends in a pitiful craving to be loved. It is now the unconscious that takes
care of the relation to the object, and it does so in a way that is calculated
to bring the illusion of power and the fantasy of superiority to utter ruin.[“General
Description of the Types,” ibid., par. 626.]

A person in this
situation can be worn out from fruitless attempts to impose his or her will.

These efforts are
constantly being frustrated by the overwhelming impressions received from the
object. It continually imposes itself on him against his will, it arouses in
him the most disagreeable and intractable affects and persecutes him at every
step. A tremendous inner struggle is needed all the time in order to “keep
going.” The typical form his neurosis takes is psychasthenia, a malady
characterized on the one hand by extreme sensitivity and on the other by great
proneness to exhaustion and chronic fatigue.[ Ibid.]

In less extreme cases,
introverts are simply more conservative than not, preferring the familiar
surroundings of home and intimate times with a few close friends; they husband
their energy and would rather stay put than go from place to place. Their best
work is done on their own resources, on their own initiative and in their own

His retreat into
himself is not a final renunciation of the world, but a search for quietude,
where alone it is possible for him to make his contribution to the life of the
community.[Psychological Typology,” ibid., par. 979.]

Intuition. The psychic function that
perceives possibilities inherent in the present. (Compare sensation.)

Intuition gives
outlook and insight; it revels in the garden of magical possibilities as if
they were real.[The Psychology of the Transference,” CW 16, par. 492.]

In Jung’s model of
typology, intuition, like sensation, is an irrational function because its
apprehension of the world is based on the perception of given facts. Unlike
sensation, however, it perceives via the unconscious and is not dependent on
concrete reality.

In intuition a content
presents itself whole and complete, without our being able to explain or
discover how this content came into existence. Intuition is a kind of
instinctive apprehension, no matter of what contents. . . . Intuitive knowledge
possesses an intrinsic certainty and conviction.[Definitions,” CW 6, par.

Intuition may receive
information from within (for instance, as a flash of insight of unknown
origin), or be stimulated by what is going on in someone else.

The first is a
perception of unconscious psychic data originating in the subject, the second
is a perception of data dependent on subliminal perceptions of the object and
on the feelings and thoughts they evoke.[Ibid., par. 771.]

Irrational. Not grounded in reason. (Compare

Jung pointed out that
elementary existential facts fall into this category-for instance, that the
earth has a moon, that chlorine is an element or that water freezes at a
certain temperature and reaches its greatest density at four degrees
centigrade-as does chance. They are irrational not because they are illogical,
but because they are beyond reason.

In Jung’s model of typology, the psychological functions of intuition and
sensation are described as irrational.

Both intuition and
sensation are functions that find fulfilment in the absolute perception
of the flux of events. Hence, by their very nature, they will react to every
possible occurrence and be attuned to the absolutely contingent, and must
therefore lack all rational direction. For this reason I call them irrational
functions, as opposed to thinking and feeling, which find fulfilment only when
they are in complete harmony with the laws of reason.[Ibid., pars. 776f.]

Merely because
[irrational types] subordinate judgment to perception, it would be quite wrong
to regard them as “unreasonable.” It wouldbe truer to say that they
are in the highest degree empirical. They base themselves entirely on
experience. [“General Description of the Types,” ibid., par. 616.]

Kore. In Greek mythology, a term for
the personification of feminine innocence (e.g., Persephone); psychologically,
in man or wom-an, it refers to an archetypal image of potential renewal.

The phenomenology of the Kore is essentially bipolar (as is that of any
archetype), associated with the mother-maiden dyad. When observed in the
products of a woman’s unconscious, it is an image of the supraordinate
personality or self. In a man, the Kore is an aspect of the anima and partakes
in all the symbolism attached to his inner personality.

As a matter of practical
observation, the Kore often appears in woman as an unknown young girl .
. . . The maiden’s helplessness exposes her to all sorts of dangers, for
instance of being devoured by reptiles or ritually slaughtered like a beast of
sacrifice. Often there are bloody, cruel, and even obscene orgies to which the
innocent child falls victim. Sometimes it is a true nekyia, a descent
into Hades and a quest for the “treasure hard to attain,”
occasionally connected with orgiastic sexual rites or offerings of menstrual
blood to the moon. Oddly enough, the various tortures and obscenities are
carried out by an “Earth Mother.” . . . The maiden who crops up in
case histories differs not inconsiderably from the vaguely flower-like Kore in
that the modern figure is more sharply delineated and not nearly so
“unconscious.”[The Psychological Aspects of the Kore,” CW 9i,
par. 311.]

Demeter and Kore,
mother and daughter, extend the feminine consciousness both upwards and
downwards. They add an “older and younger,” “stronger and weaker”
dimension to it and widen out the narrowly limited conscious mind bound in
space and time, giving it intimations of a greater and more comprehensive
personality which has a share in the eternal course of things. . . . We could
therefore say that every mother contains her daughter in herself and every
daughter her mother, and that every woman extends backwards into her mother and
forwards into her daughter. . . . The conscious experience of these ties
produces the feeling that her life is spread out over generations-the first
step towards the immediate experience and conviction of being outside time,
which brings with it a feeling of immortality.[ Ibid., par. 316.]

Libido. Psychic energy in general. (See
also final.)

Libido can never be
apprehended except in a definite form; that is to say, it is identical with
fantasy-images. And we can only release it from the grip of the unconscious by
bringing up the corresponding fantasy-images.[The Technique of
Differentiation,” CW 7, par. 345.]

Jung specifically
distanced his concept of libido from that of Freud, for whom it had a
predominantly sexual meaning.

All psychological
phenomena can be considered as manifestations of energy, in the same way that
all physical phenomena have been understood as energic manifestations ever
since Robert Mayer discovered the law of the conservation of energy.
Subjectively and psychologically, this energy is conceived as desire. I call it
libido, using the word in its original sense, which is by no means only
sexual.[Psychoanalysis and Neurosis,” CW 4, par. 567.]

[Libido] denotes a
desire or impulse which is unchecked by any kind of authority, moral or
otherwise. Libido is appetite in its natural state. From the genetic point of
view it is bodily needs like hunger, thirst, sleep, and sex, and emotional
states or affects, which constitute the essence of libido.[“The Concept of
Libido,” CW 5, par. 194.]

In line with his belief
that the psyche is a self-regulating system, Jung associated libido with
intentionality. It “knows” where it ought to go for the overall
health of the psyche.

The libido has, as it
were, a natural penchant: it is like water, which must have a gradient if it is
to flow.[Symbols of the Mother and of Rebirth,” ibid., par. 337.]

Where there is a lack of
libido (depression), it has backed up (re-gressed) in order to stir up
unconscious contents, the aim being to compensate the attitudes of
consciousness. What little energy is left resists being applied in a
consciously chosen direction.

It does not lie in our
power to transfer “disposable” energy at will to a rationally chosen
object. The same is true in general of the apparently disposable energy which
is disengaged when we have destroyed its unserviceable forms through the
corrosive of reductive analysis. [It] can at best be applied voluntarily for
only a short time. But in most cases it refuses to seize hold, for any length
of time, of the possibilities rationally presented to it. Psychic energy is a
very fastidious thing which insists on fulfilment of its own conditions.
However much energy may be present, we cannot make it serviceable until we have
succeeded in finding the right gradient.[The Problem of the
Attitude-Type,” CW 7, par. 76]

The analytic task in such
a situation is to discover the natural gradient of the person’s energy.

What is it, at this
moment and in this individual, that represents the natural urge of life? That
is the question.[The Structure of the Unconscious,” ibid., par. 488.]

Logos. The principle of logic and
structure, traditionally associated with spirit, the father world and the
God-image. (See also animus and Eros.)

There is no
consciousness without discrimination of opposites. This is the paternal
principle, the Logos, which eternally struggles to extricate itself from the
primal warmth and primal darkness of the maternal womb; in a word, from
unconsciousness.[“Psychological Aspects of the Mother Archetype,” CW
9i, par. 178.]

In Jung’s earlier
writings, he intuitively equated masculine consciousness with the concept of
Logos and feminine consciousness with that of Eros. Either one could be
dominant in a particular man or woman, due to the contrasexual complexes.

By Logos I meant
discrimination, judgment, insight, and by Eros I meant the capacity to relate.
I regarded both concepts as intuitive ideas which cannot be defined accurately
or exhaustively. From the scientific point of view this is regrettable, but
from a practical one it has its value, since the two concepts mark out a field
of experience which it is equally difficult to define.

As we can hardly ever make a psychological proposition without immediately
having to reverse it, instances to the contrary leap to the eye at once: men
who care nothing for discrimination, judgment, and insight, and women who
display an almost excessively masculine proficiency in this respect. . . .
Wherever this exists, we find a forcible intrusion of the unconscious, a
corresponding exclusion of the consciousness specific to either sex,
predominance of the shadow and of contrasexuality.[The Personification of the
Opposites,” CW 14, pars. 224f.]

In his later writing on
alchemy, Jung described Logos and Eros as psychologically equivalent to solar
and lunar consciousness, arche-typal ideas analogous to the Eastern concepts of
yang and yin-different qualities of energy. This did not change his view that
Eros was more “specific” to feminine consciousness and Logos to
masculine. Hence he attributed Eros in a man to the influence of the anima, and
Logos in a woman to that of the animus.

In a man it is the
lunar anima, in a woman the solar animus, that influences consciousness in the
highest degree. Even if a man is often unaware of his own anima-possession, he
has, understandably enough, all the more vivid an impression of the
animus-possession of his wife, and vice versa. [Ibid., par. 225.]

Loss of soul. A concept borrowed from
anthropology, referring psychologically to a state of general malaise.

The peculiar condition
covered by this term is accounted for in the mind of the primitive by the
supposition that a soul has gone off, just like a dog that runs away from his
master overnight. It is then the task of the medicine man to fetch the fugitive
back. . . . Some-thing similar can happen to civilized man, only he does not
describe it as “loss of soul” but as an “abaissement du niveau
mental.”[Concerning Rebirth,” CW 9i, par. 213.]

Mana-personality. A personified archetypal image
of a supernatural force.

The mana-personality
is a dominant of the collective unconscious, the well-known archetype of the
mighty man in the form of hero, chief, magician, medicine-man, saint, the ruler
of men and spirits, the friend of God.[The Mana-Personality,” CW 7, par.

Historically, the
mana-personality evolves into the hero and the godlike being, whose earthly
form is the priest. How very much the doctor is still mana is the whole plaint
of the analyst![Ibid., par. 389.]

Mana is a Melanesian word referring to
a bewitching or numinous quality in gods and sacred objects. A mana-personality
embodies this magical power. In individual psychology, Jung used it to describe
the inflationary effect of assimilating autonomous unconscious contents,
particularly those associated with anima and animus.

The ego has
appropriated something that does not belong to it. But how has it appropriated
the mana? If it was really the ego that conquered the anima, then the mana does
indeed belong to it, and it would be correct to conclude that one has become
important. But why does not this importance, the mana, work upon others? . . .
It does not work because one has not in fact become important, but has merely
become adulterated with an archetype, another unconscious figure. Hence we must
conclude that the ego never conquered the anima at all and therefore has not
acquired the mana. All that has happened is a new adulteration. [ Ibid., par.

Mandala. See quaternity and temenos.

Masculine. See animus and Logos.

Mechanistic. See causal, objective level
and reductive.

Meditation. A technique of focused introspection.

Jung distinguished
between meditation practiced in the East or in traditional Western religious
exercises, and its use as a tool for self-understanding, particularly in the
realization of projections.

If the ancient art of
meditation is practised at all today, it is practised only in religious or
philosophical circles, where a theme is subjectively chosen by the meditant or
prescribed by an instructor, as in the Ignatian Exercitia or in certain
theosophical exercises that developed under Indian influence. These methods are
of value only for increasing concentration and consolidating consciousness, but
have no significance as regards affecting a synthesis of the personality. On
the contrary, their purpose is to shield consciousness from the unconscious and
to suppress it.[The Conjunction,” CW 14, par. 708.]

When meditation is
concerned with the objective products of the unconscious that reach
consciousness spontaneously, it unites the conscious with contents that proceed
not from a conscious causal chain but from an essentially unconscious process. .
. . Part of the unconscious contents is projected, but the projection as such
is not recognized. Meditation or critical introspection and objective
investigation of the object are needed in order to establish the existence of
projections. If the individual is to take stock of himself it is essential that
his projections should be recognized, because they falsify the nature of the
object and besides this contain items which belong to his own personality and
should be integrated with it.[ Ibid., par. 710.]

Mother complex. A group of feeling-toned ideas
associated with the experience and image of mother.

The mother complex is a potentially active component of everyone’s psyche,
informed first of all by experience of the personal mother, then by significant
contact with other women and by collective assumptions. The constellation of a
mother complex has differing effects according to whether it appears in a son
or a daughter.

Typical effects on the
son are homosexuality and Don Juanism, and sometimes also impotence [though
here the father complex also plays a part]. In homosexuality, the son’s entire
heterosexuality is tied to the mother in an unconscious form; in Don Juanism,
he unconsciously seeks his mother in every woman he meets.[Psychological
Aspects of the Mother Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 162.]

A man’s mother complex is
influenced by the contrasexual complex, the anima. To the extent that a man
establishes a good relationship with his inner woman (instead of being
possessed by her), even a negative mother complex may have positive effects.

[He] may have a finely
differentiated Eros instead of, or in addition to, homosexuality. . . . This
gives him a great capacity for friendship, which often creates ties of
astonishing tenderness between men and may even rescue friendship between the
sexes from the limbo of the impossible. . . .In the same way, what in its
negative aspect is Don Juanism can appear positively as bold and resolute
manliness; ambitious striving after the highest goals; opposition to all stupidity,
narrow-mindedness, injustice, and laziness; willingness to make sacrifices for
what is regarded as right, sometimes bordering on heroism; perseverance,
inflexibility and toughness of will; a curiosity that does not shrink even from
the riddles of the universe; and finally, a revolutionary spirit which strives
to put a new face upon the world.[Ibid., pars 164f.]

In the daughter, the
effect of the mother complex ranges from stimulation of the feminine instinct
to its inhibition. In the first case, the preponderance of instinct makes the
woman unconscious of her own personality.

The exaggeration of
the feminine side means an intensification of all female instincts, above all
the maternal instinct. The negative aspect is seen in the woman whose only goal
is childbirth. To her the husband is . . . first and foremost the instrument of
procreation, and she regards him merely as an object to be looked after, along
with children, poor relations, cats, dogs, and household furniture. [Ibid.,
par. 167.]

In the second case, the
feminine instinct is inhibited or wiped out altogether.

As a substitute, an
overdeveloped Eros results, and this almost invariably leads to an unconscious
incestuous relationship with the father. The intensified Eros places an
abnormal emphasis on the personality of others. Jealousy of the mother and the
desire to outdo her become the leitmotifs of subsequent undertakings.[Ibid.,
par. 168.]

Alternatively, the
inhibition of the feminine instinct may lead a woman to identify with her
mother. She is then unconscious of both her own maternal instinct and her Eros,
which are then projected onto the mother.

As a sort of
superwoman (admired involuntarily by the daughter), the mother lives out for
her beforehand all that the girl might have lived for herself. She is content
to cling to her mother in selfless devotion, while at the same time
unconsciously striving, almost against her will, to tyrannize over her,
naturally under the mask of complete loyalty and devotion. The daughter leads a
shadow-existence, often visibly sucked dry by her mother, and she prolongs her
mother’s life by a sort of continuous blood transfusion.[ Ibid., par. 169.]

Because of their apparent
“emptiness,” these women are good hooks for men’s projections. As
devoted and self-sacrificing wives, they often project their own unconscious
gifts onto their husbands.

And then we have the
spectacle of a totally insignificant man who seemed to have no chance
whatsoever suddenly soaring as if on a magic carpet to the highest summits of
achievement. [ Ibid., par. 182.]

In Jung’s view, these
three extreme types are linked together by many intermediate stages, the most
important being where there is an overwhelming resistance to the mother and all
she stands for.

It is the supreme
example of the negative mother-complex. The motto of this type is: Anything, so
long as it is not like Mother! . . . All instinctive processes meet with
unexpected difficulties; either sexuality does not function properly, or the
children are unwanted, or maternal duties seem unbearable, or the demands of
marital life are responded to with impatience and irritation.[Ibid., par. 170.]

Such a woman often excels
in Logos activities, where her mother has no place. If she can overcome her
merely reactive attitude toward reality, she may later in life come to a deeper
appreciation of her femininity.

Thanks to her lucidity,
objectivity, and masculinity, a woman of this type is frequently found in
important positions in which her tardily discovered maternal quality, guided by
a cool intelligence, exerts a most beneficial influence. This rare combination
of womanliness and masculine understanding proves valuable in the realm of
intimate relationships as well as in practical matters. [Ibid., par. 186.]

At the core of any mother
complex is the mother archetype, which means that behind emotional associations
with the personal mother, both in men and in women, there is a collective image
of nourishment and security on the one hand (the positive mother), and
devouring possessiveness on the other (the negative mother).

Motif. See archetypal image.

Myth. An involuntary collective
statement based on an unconscious psychic experience.

The primitive
mentality does not invent myths, it experiences them. Myths are
original revelations of the preconscious psyche . . . . Many of these
unconscious processes may be indirectly occasioned by consciousness, but never
by conscious choice. Others appear to arise spontaneously, that is to say, from
no discernible or demonstrable conscious cause.[“The Psychology of the
Child Archetype,” ibid., par. 261.]

Negative inflation. An unrealistically low opinion
of oneself, due to identification with the negative side of the shadow.
(See also inflation.)

Whenever a sense of
moral inferiority appears, it indicates not only a need to assimilate an
unconscious component, but also the possibility of such assimilation.[The
Personal and the Collective Unconscious,” CW 7, par. 218.]

Neurosis. A psychological crisis due to a
state of disunity with oneself, or, more formally, a mild dissociation
of the personality due to the activation of complexes. (See also adaptation,
and self-regulation of the psyche.)

Any incompatibility of
character can cause dissociation, and too great a split between the thinking
and the feeling function, for instance, is already a slight neurosis. When you
are not quite at one with yourself . . . you are approaching a neurotic
condition.[The Tavistock Lectures,” CW 18, par. 383.]

Every neurosis is
characterized by dissociation and conflict, contains complexes, and shows
traces of regression and abaissement.[Analytical Psychology and
Education,” CW 17, par. 204.]

Jung’s view was that an
outbreak of neurosis is purposeful, an opportunity to become conscious of who
we are as opposed to who we think we are. By working through the symptoms that
invariably accompany neurosis-anxiety, fear, depression, guilt and particularly
conflict-we become aware of our limitations and discover our true strengths.

In many cases we have
to say, “Thank heaven he could make up his mind to be neurotic.”
Neurosis is really an attempt at self-cure. . . . It is an attempt of the
self-regulating psychic system to restore the balance, in no way different from
the function of dreams-only rather more forceful and drastic.[The Tavistock
Lectures,” CW 18, par. 389.]

I myself have known
more than one person who owed his entire usefulness and reason for existence to
a neurosis, which prevented all the worst follies in his life and forced him to
a mode of living that developed his valuable potentialities. These might have
been stifled had not the neurosis, with iron grip, held him to the place where
he belonged. [“The Problem of the Attitude-Type,” CW 7, par. 68.]

In any breakdown in
conscious functioning, energy regresses and unconscious contents are activated
in an attempt to compensate the one-sidedness of consciousness.

Neuroses, like all
illnesses, are symptoms of maladjustment. Be-cause of some obstacle-a
constitutional weakness or defect, wrong education, bad experiences, an unsuitable
attitude, etc.-one shrinks from the difficulties which life brings and thus
finds oneself back in the world of the infant. The unconscious compensates this
regression by producing symbols which, when understood objectively, that is, by
means of comparative research, reactivate general ideas that underlie all such
natural systems of thought. In this way a change of attitude is brought about
which bridges the dissociation between man as he is and man as he ought to be.
[“The Philosophical Tree,” CW 13, par. 473.]

Jung called his attitude
toward neurosis energic or final since it was based on the potential
progression of energy rather than causal or mechanistic reasons for its
regression. The two views are not incompatible but rather complementary: the
mechanistic approach looks to the past for the cause of psychic discomfort in
the present; Jung focused on the present with an eye to future possibilities.

I no longer seek the
cause of a neurosis in the past, but in the present. I ask, what is the
necessary task which the patient will not accomplish?[“Psychoanalysis and
Neurosis,” CW4, par. 570.]

In psychic
disturbances it is by no means sufficient in all cases merely to bring the
supposed or real causes to consciousness. The treatment involves the
integration of contents that have become dissociated from consciousness.[The
Philosophical Tree,” CW 13, par. 464.]

Jung did not dispute
Freudian theory that Oedipal fixations can manifest as neurosis in later life.
He acknowledged that certain periods in life, and particularly infancy, often
have a permanent and determining influence on the personality. But he found
this to be an insufficient explanation for those cases in which there was no
trace of neurosis until the time of the breakdown.

Freud’s sexual theory
of neurosis is grounded on a true and factual principle. But it makes the
mistake of being one-sided and exclusive; also it commits the imprudence of
trying to lay hold of unconfinable Eros with the crude terminology of sex. In
this respect Freud is a typical representative of the materialistic epoch,
whose hope it was to solve the world riddle in a test-tube.[“The Eros
Theory,” CW 7, par. 33.]

If the fixation were
indeed real [i.e., the primary cause] we should expect to find its influence
constant; in other words, a neurosis lasting throughout life. This is obviously
not the case. The psychological determination of a neurosis is only partly due
to an early infantile predisposition; it must be due to some cause in the
present as well. And if we carefully examine the kind of infantile fantasies
and occurrences to which the neurotic is attached, we shall be obliged to agree
that there is nothing in them that is specifically neurotic. Normal individuals
have pretty much the same inner and outer experiences, and may be attached to
them to an astonishing degree without developing a neurosis.[Psychoanalysis and
Neurosis,” CW4, par. 564.]

What then determines why
one person becomes neurotic while another, in similar circumstances, does not?
Jung’s answer is that the individual psyche knows both its limits and its
potential. If the former are being exceeded, or the latter not realized, a
breakdown occurs. The psyche itself acts to correct the situation.

There are vast masses
of the population who, despite their notorious unconsciousness, never get
anywhere near a neurosis. The few who are smitten by such a fate are really
persons of the “higher” type who, for one reason or another, have
remained too long on a primitive level. Their nature does not in the long run
tolerate persistence in what is for them an unnatural torpor. As a result of
their narrow conscious outlook and their cramped existence they save energy;
bit by bit it accumulates in the unconscious and finally explodes in the form
of a more or less acute neurosis.[The Function of the Unconscious,” CW 7,
par. 291.]

Jung’s view of neurosis
differs radically from the classical reductive approach, but it does not
substantially change what happens in analysis. Activated fantasies still have
to be brought to light, because the energy needed for life is attached to them.
The object, however, is not to reveal a supposed root cause of the neurosis but
to establish a connection between consciousness and the unconscious that will
result in the renewed progression of energy.

Night sea journey. An archetypal motif in
mythology, psychologically associated with depression and the loss of
energy characteristic of neurosis.

The night sea journey
is a kind of descensus ad inferos--a descent into Hades and a journey to
the land of ghosts somewhere beyond this world, beyond consciousness, hence an
immersion in the unconscious.[“The Psychology of the Transference,”
CW 16, par. 455.]

Mythologically, the night
sea journey motif usually involves being swallowed by a dragon or sea monster. It
is also represented by imprisonment or crucifixion, dismemberment or abduction,
experiences traditionally weathered by sun-gods and heroes: Gilgamesh, Osiris,
Christ, Dante, Odysseus, Aeneas. In the language of the mystics it is the dark
night of the soul.

Jung interpreted such legends symbolically, as illustrations of the regressive
movement of energy in an outbreak of neurosis and its potential progression.

The hero is the
symbolical exponent of the movement of libido. Entry into the dragon is the regressive
direction, and the journey to the East (the “night sea journey”) with
its attendant events symbolizes the effort to adapt to the conditions of the
psychic inner world. The complete swallowing up and disappearance of the hero
in the belly of the dragon represents the complete withdrawal of interest from
the outer world. The overcoming of the monster from within is the achievement
of adaptation to the conditions of the inner world, and the emergence
(“slipping out”) of the hero from the monster’s belly with the help
of a bird, which happens at the moment of sunrise, symbolizes the
recommencement of progression.[“On Psychic Energy,” CW 8, par. 68.]

All the night sea journey
myths derive from the perceived behavior of the sun, which, in Jung’s lyrical
image, “sails over the sea like an immortal god who every evening is
immersed in the maternal waters and is born anew in the morning.[“Symbols
of the Mother and of Rebirth,” CW 5, par. 306.] The sun going down,
analogous to the loss of energy in a depression, is the necessary prelude to
rebirth. Cleansed in the healing waters (the unconscious), the sun
(ego-consciousness) lives again.

Nigredo. An alchemical term,
corresponding psychologically to the mental disorientation that typically
arises in the process of assimilating unconscious contents, particularly
aspects of the shadow.

Self-knowledge is an
adventure that carries us unexpectedly far and deep. Even a moderately
comprehensive knowledge of the shadow can cause a good deal of confusion and
mental darkness, since it gives rise to personality problems which one had
never remotely imagined before. For this reason alone we can understand why the
alchemists called their nigredo melancholia, “a black blacker than
black,” night, an affliction of the soul, confusion, etc., or, more
pointedly, the “black raven.” For us the raven seems only a funny
allegory, but for the medieval adept it was . . . a well-known allegory of the
devil.[The Conjunction,” CW 14, par. 741.]

Numinous. Descriptive of persons, things
or situations having a deep emotional resonance, psychologically associated
with experiences of the self.
Numinous, like numinosity, comes from Latin numinosum, referring to a dynamic
agency or effect independent of the conscious will.

Religious teaching as
well as the consensus gentium always and everywhere explain this
experience as being due to a cause external to the individual. The numinosum
is either a quality belonging to a visible object or the influence of an
invisible presence that causes a peculiar alteration of
consciousness.[Psychology and Religion,” CW 11, par. 6.]

Objectivation. A process of differentiating
the ego from both other persons and contents of the unconscious. (See also active

Its goal is to detach
consciousness from the object so that the individual no longer places the
guarantee of his happiness, or of his life even, in factors outside himself,
whether they be persons, ideas, or circumstances, but comes to realize that
everything depends on whether he holds the treasure or not. If the possession
of that gold is realized, then the centre of gravity is in the
individual and no longer in an object on which he depends.[The Tavistock
Lectures,” CW 18, par. 377.]

Jung pointed out that the
“treasure” has traditionally been projected onto sacred figures, but
that many modern individuals no longer find satisfaction in such historical
symbols. They therefore need to find an individual method to “give
shape” to the personal complexes and archetypal images.

For they have to take
on form, they have to live their characteristic life, otherwise the individual
is severed from the basic function of the psyche [compensation], and then he is
neurotic, he is disorientated and in conflict with himself. But if he is able
to objectify the impersonal images and relate to them, he is in touch with that
vital psychological function which from the dawn of consciousness has been
taken care of by religion.[Ibid., par. 378.]

Objective level. An approach to understanding the
meaning of images in dreams and fantasies by reference to persons or situations
in the outside world. (See also reductive; compare constructive
and subjective level.)

Freud’s interpretation
of dreams is almost entirely on the objective level, since the dream wishes
refer to real objects, or to sexual processes which fall within the
physiological, extra-psychological sphere. [Definitions,” CW 6, par. 779.]

Although Jung pioneered
the teaching of dream interpretation on the subjective level, where symbolic
meaning is paramount, he also recognized the value of the objective approach.

Enlightening as
interpretation on the subjective level may be . . . it may be entirely
worthless when a vitally important relationship is the content and cause of the
conflict [behind the dream]. Here the dream-figure must be related to the real
object. The criterion can always be discovered from the conscious material.
[General Aspects of Dream Psychology,” CW 8, par. 515.]

Objective psyche. See collective unconscious.

Opposites. Psychologically, the ego and the
unconscious. (See also compensation, conflict, progression and transcendent

There is no
consciousness without discrimination of opposites.[“Psychological Aspects
of the Mother Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 178.]

There is no form of
human tragedy that does not in some measure proceed from [the] conflict between
the ego and the unconscious.[“Analytical Psychology and
Weltanschauung,” CW 8, par. 706.”]

Whatever attitude exists
in the conscious mind, and whichever psychological function is dominant, the
opposite is in the unconscious. This situation seldom precipitates a crisis in
the first half of life. But for older people who reach an impasse,
characterized by a one-sided conscious attitude and the blockage of energy, it
is necessary to bring to light psychic contents that have been repressed.

The repressed content
must be made conscious so as to produce a tension of opposites, without which
no forward movement is possible. The conscious mind is on top, the shadow
underneath, and just as high always longs for low and hot for cold, so all
consciousness, perhaps without being aware of it, seeks its unconscious
opposite, lacking which it is doomed to stagnation, congestion, and
ossification. Life is born only of the spark of opposites.[The Problem of the
Attitude-Type,” CW 7, par. 78.]

This in turn activates
the process of compensation, which leads to an irrational “third,”
the transcendent function.

Out of [the] collision
of opposites the unconscious psyche always creates a third thing of an
irrational nature, which the conscious mind neither expects nor understands. It
presents itself in a form that is neither a straight “yes” nor a
straight “no.”[The Psychology of the Child Archetype,” CW 9i,
par. 285.The Psychology of the Child Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 285.]

Jung explained the
potential renewal of the personality in terms of the principle of entropy in
physics, according to which transformations of energy in a relatively closed
system take place, and are only possible, as a result of differences in

Psychologically, we
can see this process at work in the development of a lasting and relatively
unchanging attitude. After violent oscillations at the beginning the opposites
equalize one another, and gradually a new attitude develops, the final
stability of which is the greater in proportion to the magnitude of the initial
differences. The greater the tension between the pairs of opposites, the
greater will be the energy that comes from them . . . [and] the less chance is
there of subsequent disturbances which might arise from friction with material
not previously constellated.[“On Psychic Energy,” CW 8, par.

Some degree of tension
between consciousness and the unconsciousness is both unavoidable and
necessary. The aim of analysis is therefore not to eliminate the tension but
rather to understand the role it plays in the self-regulation of the psyche.
Moreover, the assimilation of unconscious contents results in the ego becoming
responsible for what was previously unconscious. There is thus no question of
anyone ever being completely at peace.

The united personality
will never quite lose the painful sense of innate discord. Complete redemption
from the sufferings of this world is and must remain an illusion. Christ’s
earthly life likewise ended, not in complacent bliss, but on the
cross.[“The Psychology of the Transference,” CW 16, par. 400.]

Jung further believed
that anyone who attempts to deal with the problem of the opposites on a
personal level is making a significant contribution toward world peace.

The psychological rule
says that when an inner situation is not made conscious, it happens outside, as
fate. That is to say, when the individual remains undivided and does not become
conscious of his inner opposite, the world must perforce act out the conflict
and be torn into opposing halves.[Christ, A Symbol of the Self,” CW 9ii,
par. 126.]

Orientation. A term used to indicate the
general principle governing a personal attitude or viewpoint.

One’s psychological orientation determines how one sees and interprets reality.
In Jung’s model of typology, a thinking attitude is oriented by the principle
of logic; a sensation attitude is oriented by the direct perception of concrete
facts; intuition orients itself to future possibilities; and feeling is governed
by subjective worth. Each of these attitudes may operate in an introverted or
extraverted way.

Parental complex. A group of emotionally charged
images and ideas associated with the parents. (See also incest.)
Jung believed that the numinosity surrounding the personal parents, apparent in
their more or less magical influence, was to a large extent due to an
archetypal image of the primordial parents resident in every psyche.

The importance that
modern psychology attaches to the “parental complex” is a direct
continuation of primitive man’s experience of the dangerous power of the
ancestral spirits. Even the error of judgment which leads him unthinkingly to
assume that the spirits are realities of the external world is carried on in
our assumption (which is only partially correct) that the real parents are
responsible for the parental complex. In the old trauma theory of Freudian
psychoanalysis, and in other quarters as well, this assumption even passed for
a scientific explanation. (It was in order to avoid this confusion that I
advocated the term “parental imago.”)[The Function of the
Unconscious,” CW 7, par. 293.]

The imago of the parents
is composed of both the image created in the individual psyche from the
experience of the personal parents and collective elements already present.

The image is
unconsciously projected, and when the parents die, the projected image goes on
working as though it were a spirit existing on its own. The primitive then
speaks of parental spirits who return by night (revenants), while the modern
man calls it a father or mother complex. [ Ibid., par. 294.]

So long as a positive
or negative resemblance to the parents is the deciding factor in a love choice,
the release from the parental imago, and hence from childhood, is not complete.[Mind
and Earth,” CW 10, par. 74].

Participation mystique. A term derived from anthropology
and the study of primitive psychology, denoting a mystical connection, or
identity, between subject and object. (See also archaic, identification and

mystique] consists in the fact that the subject cannot clearly distinguish
himself from the object but is bound to it by a direct relationship which
amounts to partial identity. . . . Among civilized peoples it usually occurs
between persons, seldom between a person and a thing. In the first case it is a
transference relationship . . . . In the second case there is a similar
influence on the part of the thing, or else an identification with a thing or
the idea of a thing.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 781.]

[Identity] is a
characteristic of the primitive mentality and the real foundation of participation
, which is nothing but a relic of the original non-differentiation
of subject and object, and hence of the primordial unconscious state. It is
also a characteristic of the mental state of early infancy, and, finally, of
the unconscious of the civilized adult.[Ibid., par. 741.]

Persona. The “I,” usually ideal
aspects of ourselves, that we present to the outside world.

The persona is . . . a
functional complex that comes into existence for reasons of adaptation or
personal convenience. [Ibid., par. 801.]

The persona is that
which in reality one is not, but which oneself as well as others think one
is.[“Concerning Rebirth,” CW 9i, par. 221.]

Originally the word
persona meant a mask worn by actors to indicate the role they played. On this
level, it is both a protective covering and an asset in mixing with other
people. Civilized society depends on interactions between people through the

There are indeed
people who lack a developed persona . . . blundering from one social solecism
to the next, perfectly harmless and innocent, soulful bores or appealing
children, or, if they are women, spectral Cassandras dreaded for their
tactlessness, eternally misunderstood, never knowing what they are about,
always taking forgiveness for granted, blind to the world, hopeless dreamers.
From them we can see how a neglected persona works.[“Anima and
Animus,” CW 7, par. 318.]

Before the persona has
been differentiated from the ego, the persona is experienced as individuality.
In fact, as a social identity on the one hand and an ideal image on the other,
there is little individual about it.

It is, as its name
implies, only a mask of the collective psyche, a mask that feigns
individuality, making others and oneself believe that one is individual,
whereas one is simply acting a role through which the collective psyche speaks.
When we analyse the persona we strip off the mask, and discover that what
seemed to be individual is at bottom collective; in other words, that the
persona was only a mask of the collective psyche. Fundamentally the persona is
nothing real: it is a compromise between individual and society as to what a
man should appear to be. He takes a name, earns a title, exercises a function,
he is this or that. In a certain sense all this is real, yet in relation to the
essential individuality of the person concerned it is only a secondary reality,
a compromise formation, in making which others often have a greater share than
he. [“The Persona as a Segment of the Collective Psyche,” ibid.,
pars. 245f.]

A psychological
understanding of the persona as a function of relationship to the outside world
makes it possible to assume and drop one at will. But by rewarding a particular
persona, the outside world invites identification with it. Money, respect and
power come to those who can perform single-mindedly and well in a social role.
From being a useful convenience, therefore, the persona may become a trap and a
source of neurosis.

A man cannot get rid
of himself in favour of an artificial personality without punishment. Even the
attempt to do so brings on, in all ordinary cases, unconscious reactions in the
form of bad moods, affects, phobias, obsessive ideas, backsliding vices, etc.
The social “strong man” is in his private life often a mere child
where his own states of feeling are concerned.[“Anima and Animus,”
ibid., par. 307. ]

The demands of
propriety and good manners are an added inducement to assume a becoming mask.
What goes on behind the mask is then called “private life.” This
painfully familiar division of consciousness into two figures, often
preposterously different, is an incisive psychological operation that is bound
to have repercussions on the unconscious.[Ibid., par. 305.]

Among the consequences of
identifying with a persona are: we lose sight of who we are without a
protective covering; our reactions are predetermined by collective expectations
(we do and think and feel what our persona “should” do, think and
feel); those close to us complain of our emotional distance; and we cannot
imagine life without it.

To the extent that ego-consciousness is identified with the persona, the
neglected inner life (personified in the shadow and anima or animus) is
activated in compensation. The consequences, experienced in symptoms
characteristic of neurosis, can stimulate the process of individuation.

There is, after all,
something individual in the peculiar choice and delineation of the persona, and
. . . despite the exclusive identity of the ego-consciousness with the persona
the unconscious self, one’s real individuality, is always present and makes
itself felt indirectly if not directly. Although the ego-consciousness is at
first identical with the persona-that compromise role in which we parade before
the community-yet the unconscious self can never be repressed to the point of
extinction. Its influence is chiefly manifest in the special nature of the
contrasting and compensating contents of the unconscious. The purely personal
attitude of the conscious mind evokes reactions on the part of the unconscious,
and these, together with personal repressions, contain the seeds of individual
development.[The Persona as a Segment of the Collective Psyche,” ibid.,
par. 247.]

Personal unconscious. The personal layer of the unconscious,
distinct from the collective unconscious.

The personal
unconscious contains lost memories, painful ideas that are repressed (i.e.,
forgotten on purpose), subliminal perceptions, by which are meant
sense-perceptions that were not strong enough to reach consciousness, and
finally, contents that are not yet ripe for consciousness.[The Personal and the
Collective Unconscious,” ibid., par. 103.]

Personality. Aspects of the soul as it
functions in the world. (See also individuality.)

For the development of
personality, differentiation from collective values, particularly those
embodied in and adhered to by the persona, is essential.

A change from one
milieu to another brings about a striking alteration of personality, and on
each occasion a clearly defined character emerges that is noticeably different
from the previous one. . . . The social character is oriented on the one hand
by the expectations and demands of society, and on the other by the social aims
and aspirations of the individual. The domestic character is, as a rule,
moulded by emotional demands and an easy-going acquiescence for the sake of
comfort and convenience; when it frequently happens that men who in public life
are extremely energetic, spirited, obstinate, wilful and ruthless appear
good-natured, mild, compliant, even weak, when at home and in the bosom of the
family. Which is the true character, the real personality? . . .
. . . . In my view the answer to the above question should be that such a man
has no real character at all: he is not individual but collective, the
plaything of circumstance and general expectations. Were he individual, he
would have the same character despite the variation of attitude. He would not
be identical with the attitude of the moment, and he neither would nor could
prevent his individuality from expressing itself just as clearly in one state
as in another.[“Definitions,” CW 6, pars. 798f.]

Personification. The tendency of psychic contents
or complexes to take on a distinct personality, separate from the ego.

Every autonomous or
even relatively autonomous complex has the peculiarity of appearing as a
personality, i.e., of being personified. This can be observed most readily in
the so-called spiritualistic manifestations of automatic writing and the like.
The sentences produced are always personal statements and are propounded in the
first person singular, as though behind every utterance there stood an actual
personality. A naïve intelligence at once thinks of spirits.[“Anima and
Animus,” CW 7, par. 312.]

The ego may also
deliberately personify unconscious contents or the affects that arise from
them, using the method of active imagination, in order to facilitate
communication between consciousness and the unconscious.

Philosophers’ stone. In alchemy, a metaphor for the
successful transmutation of base metal into gold; psychologically, an
archetypal image of wholeness. (See also coniunctio.)

Jung quoted from the Rosarium

Make a round circle of
man and woman, extract therefrom a quadrangle and from it a triangle. Make the
circle round, and you will have the Philosophers’ Stone.[“Psychology and
Religion,” CW 11, par. 92.]

Possession. A term used to describe the identification
of consciousness with an unconscious content or complex. The most common
forms of possession are by the shadow and the contrasexual complexes,

A man who is possessed
by his shadow is always standing in his own light and falling into his own
traps. Whenever possible, he prefers to make an unfavorable impression on
others. . . .
Possession caused by the anima or animus presents a different picture. . . . In
the state of possession both figures lose their charm and their values; they
retain them only when they are turned away from the world, in the introverted
state, when they serve as bridges to the unconscious. Turned towards the world,
the anima is fickle, capricious, moody, uncontrolled and emotional, sometimes
gifted with daemonic intuitions, ruthless, malicious, untruthful, bitchy,
double-faced, and mystical. The animus is obstinate, harping on principles,
laying down the law, dogmatic, world-reforming, theoretic, word-mongering,
argumentative, and domineering. Both alike have bad taste: the anima surrounds herself
with inferior people, and the animus lets himself be taken in by second-rate
thinking.[“Concerning Rebirth,” CW 9i, pars. 222f.]

Power complex. A group of emotionally toned
ideas associated with an attitude that seeks to subordinate all influences and
experience to the supremacy of the personal ego.

Prima materia. An alchemical term meaning
“original matter,” used psychologically to denote both the
instinctual foundation of life and the raw material one works with in
analysis-dreams, emotions, conflicts, etc.

Primary function. The psychological function that
is most differentiated. (Compare inferior function.) In Jung’s model of
typology, the primary or superior function is the one we automatically use
because it comes most naturally.

Experience shows that
it is practically impossible, owing to adverse circumstances in general, for
anyone to develop all his psychological functions simultaneously. The demands
of society compel a man to apply himself first and foremost to the
differentiation of the function with which he is best equipped by nature, or
which will secure him the greatest social success. Very frequently, indeed as a
general rule, a man identifies more or less completely with the most favoured
and hence the most developed function. It is this that gives rise to the
various psychological types.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 763.]

In deciding which of the
four functions-thinking, feeling, sensation or intuition-is primary, one must
closely observe which function is more or less completely under conscious
control, and which functions have a haphazard or random character. The superior
function (which can manifest in either an introverted or an extraverted way) is
always more highly developed than the others, which possess infantile and
primitive traits.

The superior function
is always an expression of the conscious personality, of its aims, will, and
general performance, whereas the less differentiated functions fall into the
category of things that simply “happen” to one.[General Description of
the Types,” ibid., par. 575.]

Primitive. Descriptive of the original, or
undifferentiated, human psyche. (See also archaic.)

I use the term
“primitive” in the sense of “primordial,” and . . . do not
imply any kind of value judgment. Also, when I speak of a “vestige”
of a primitive state, I no not necessarily mean that this state will sooner or
later come to an end. On the contrary, I see no reason why it should not endure
as long as humanity lasts.[“A Review of the Complex Theory,” CW 8,
par. 218.]

Primordial image. See archetypal image.

Progression. The daily advance of the process
of psychological adaptation, the opposite of regression. (See
also neurosis.)

Progression is a
forwards movement of life in the same sense that time moves forwards. This
movement can occur in two different forms: either extraverted, when the
progression is predominantly influenced by objects and environmental
conditions, or introverted, when it has to adapt itself to the conditions of
the ego (or, more accurately, of the “subjective factor”). Similarly,
regression can proceed along two lines: either as a retreat from the outside
world (introversion), or as a flight into extravagant experience of the outside
world (extraversion). Failure in the first case drives a man into a state of dull
brooding, and in the second case into leading the life of a wastrel. [“On
Psychic Energy,” ibid., par. 77.]

In the normal course of
life, there is a relatively easy progression of libido; energy may be directed
more or less at will. This is not the same as psychological development or
individuation. Progression refers simply to the continuous flow or current of
life. It is commonly interrupted by a conflict or the inability to adapt to
changing circumstances.

During the progression
of libido the pairs of opposites are united in the co-ordinated flow of psychic
processes. . . . But in the stoppage of libido that occurs when progression has
become impossible, positive and negative can no longer unite in co-ordinated
action, because both have attained an equal value which keeps the scales
balanced. [Ibid., par. 61.]

The struggle between the
opposites would continue unabated if the process of regression, the backward
movement of libido, did not set in, its purpose being to compensate the
conscious attitude.

Through their
collision the opposites are gradually deprived of value and depotentiated. . .
. In proportion to the decrease in value of the conscious opposites there is an
increase in value of all those psychic processes which are not concerned with
outward adaptation and therefore are seldom or never employed
consciously.[“On Psychic Energy,” ibid., par. 62.]

As the energic value of
these previously unconscious psychic processes increases, they manifest
indirectly as disturbances of conscious behavior and symptoms characteristic of
neurosis. Prominent aspects of the psyche one then needs to become aware of are
the persona, the contrasexual complex (anima/animus) and the shadow.

Projection. An automatic process whereby
contents of one’s own unconscious are perceived to be in others. (See also archaic,
and participation mystique.)

Just as we tend to
assume that the world is as we see it, we naïvely suppose that people are as we
imagine them to be. . . . All the contents of our unconscious are constantly
being projected into our surroundings, and it is only by recognizing certain
properties of the objects as projections or imagos that we are able to
distinguish them from the real properties of the objects. . . . Cum grano
, we always see our own unavowed mistakes in our opponent. Excellent
examples of this are to be found in all personal quarrels. Unless we are
possessed of an unusual degree of self-awareness we shall never see through our
projections but must always succumb to them, because the mind in its natural
state presupposes the existence of such projections. It is the natural and
given thing for unconscious contents to be projected.[“General Aspects of
Dream Psychology,” ibid., par. 507.]”

Projection means the
expulsion of a subjective content into an object; it is the opposite of
introjection. Accordingly, it is a process of dissimilation, by which a
subjective content becomes alienated from the subject and is, so to speak,
embodied in the object. The subject gets rid of painful, incompatible contents
by projecting them.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 783.]

Projection is not a
conscious process. One meets with projections, one does not make them.

The general
psychological reason for projection is always an activated unconscious that
seeks expression.[“The Tavistock Lectures,” CW 18, par. 352.]

It is possible to project
certain characteristics onto another person who does not possess them at all,
but the one being projected upon may unconsciously encourage it.

It frequently happens
that the object offers a hook to the projection, and even lures it out. This is
generally the case when the object himself (or herself) is not conscious of the
quality in question: in that way it works directly upon the unconscious of the
projicient. For all projections provoke counter-projections when the
object is unconscious of the quality projected upon it by the subject.[General
Aspects of Dream Psychology,” CW 8, par. 519.]

Through projection one
can create a series of imaginary relationships that often have little or nothing
to do with the outside world.

The effect of
projection is to isolate the subject from his environment, since instead of a
real relation to it there is now only an illusory one. Projections change the
world into the replica of one’s own unknown face. In the last analysis,
therefore, they lead to an autoerotic or autistic condition in which one dreams
a world whose reality remains forever unattainable.[The Shadow,” CW 9ii,
par. 17.]

Projection also has
positive effects. In everyday life it facilitates interpersonal relations. In
addition, when we assume that some quality or characteristic is present in
another, and then, through experience, find that this is not so, we can learn
something about ourselves. This involves withdrawing or dissolving projections.

So long as the libido
can use these projections as agreeable and convenient bridges to the world,
they will alleviate life in a positive way. But as soon as the libido wants to
strike out on another path, and for this purpose begins running back along the
previous bridges of projection, they will work as the greatest hindrances it is
possible to imagine, for they effectively prevent any real detachment from the
former object.[“General Aspects of Dream Psychology,” CW 8, par.

The need to withdraw
projections is generally signaled by frustrated expectations in relationships,
accompanied by strong affect. But Jung believed that until there is an obvious
discordance between what we imagine to be true and the reality we are presented
with, there is no need to speak of projections, let alone withdraw them.

Projection . . . is
properly so called only when the need to dissolve the identity with the object
has already arisen. This need arises when the identity becomes a disturbing
factor, i.e., when the absence of the projected content is a hindrance to
adaptation and its withdrawal into the subject has become desirable. From this
moment the previous partial identity acquires the character of projection. The
term projection therefore signifies a state of identity that has become
noticeable.[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 783.]

Jung distinguished
between passive projection and active projection. Passive
projection is completely automatic and unintentional, like falling in love. The
less we know about another person, the easier it is to passively project
unconscious aspects of ourselves onto them.
Active projection is better known as empathy-we feel ourselves into the other’s
shoes. Empathy that extends to the point where we lose our own standpoint
becomes identification.

The projection of the
personal shadow generally falls on persons of the same sex. On a collective
level, it gives rise to war, scapegoating and confrontations between political
parties. Projection that takes place in the context of a therapeutic relationship
is called transference or countertransference, depending on whether the
analysand or the analyst is the one projecting.

In terms of the contrasexual complexes, anima and animus, projection is both a
common cause of animosity and a singular source of vitality.

When animus and anima
meet, the animus draws his sword of power and the anima ejects her poison of
illusion and seduction. The outcome need not always be negative, since the two
are equally likely to fall in love.[The Syzygy: Anima and Animus,” CW 9ii,
par. 30.]

Provisional life. A term used to describe an
attitude toward life that is more or less imaginary, not rooted in the here and
now, commonly associated with puer psychology.

Psyche. The totality of all
psychological processes, both conscious and unconscious.

The psyche is far from
being a homogenous unit–on the contrary, it is a boiling cauldron of
contradictory impulses, inhibitions, and affects, and for many people the
conflict between them is so insupportable that they even wish for the
deliverance preached by theologians.[“Psychological Aspects of the Mother
Archetype,” CW 9i, par. 190.]

The way in which the
psyche manifests is a complicated interplay of many factors, including an
individual’s age, sex, hereditary disposition, psychological type and attitude,
and degree of conscious control over the instincts.

Psychic processes . .
. behave like a scale along which consciousness “slides.” At one
moment it finds itself in the vicinity of instinct, and falls under its
influence; at another, it slides along to the other end where spirit
predominates and even assimilates the instinctual processes most opposed to it.
[“On the Nature of the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 408.]

The tremendous complexity
of psychic phenomena led Jung to the belief that attempts to formulate a
comprehensive theory of the psyche were doomed to failure.

The premises are
always far too simple. The psyche is the starting-point of all human
experience, and all the knowledge we have gained eventually leads back to it.
The psyche is the beginning and end of all cognition. It is not only the object
of its science, but the subject also. This gives psychology a unique place
among all the other sciences: on the one hand there is a constant doubt as to
the possibility of its being a science at all, while on the other hand
psychology acquires the right to state a theoretical problem the solution of
which will be one of the most difficult tasks for a future
philosophy.[Psychological Factors in Human Behaviour,” ibid., par. 261.]

Psychic energy. See libido.

Psychization. The process of reflection
whereby an instinct or unconscious content is made conscious.

Psychogenic. Descriptive of mental
disturbances having a psychological rather than physiological origin.

Nobody doubts that the
neuroses are psychogenic. “Psychogenesis” means that the
essential cause of a neurosis, or the condition under which it arises, is of a
psychic nature. It may, for instance, be a psychic shock, a gruelling conflict,
a wrong kind of psychic adaptation, a fatal illusion, and so on.[“Mental
disease and the Psyche,” CW 3, par. 496.]

Psychoid. A concept applicable to
virtually any archetype, expressing the essentially unknown but experienceable
connection between psyche and matter.

Psyche is essentially
conflict between blind instinct and will (freedom of choice). Where instinct
predominates, psychoid processes set in which pertain to the sphere of
the unconscious as elements incapable of consciousness. The psychoid process is
not the unconscious as such, for this has a far greater extension.[“On the
Nature of the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 380.]

It seems to me
probable that the real nature of the archetype is not capable of being made
conscious, that it is transcendent, on which account I call it psychoid. [
Ibid., par. 417.]

Psychological types. See type and typology.

Psychopomp. A psychic factor that mediates
unconscious contents to consciousness, often personified in the image of a wise
old man or woman, and sometimes as a helpful animal.

Psychosis. An extreme dissociation of the
personality. Like neurosis, a psychotic condition is due to the activity of
unconscious complexes and the phenomenon of splitting. In neurosis, the
complexes are only relatively autonomous. In psychosis, they are completely
disconnected from consciousness.

To have complexes is
in itself normal; but if the complexes are incompatible, that part of the
personality which is too contrary to the conscious part becomes split off. If
the split reaches the organic structure, the dissociation is a psychosis, a schizophrenic
condition, as the term denotes. Each complex then lives an existence of its
own, with no personality left to tie them together.[“The Tavistock
Lectures,” CW 18, par. 382.]

[In schizophrenia] the
split-off figures assume banal, grotesque, or highly exaggerated names and
characters, and are often objectionable in many other ways. They do not,
moreover, co-operate with the patient’s consciousness. They are not tactful and
they have no respect for sentimental values. On the contrary, they break in and
make a disturbance at any time, they torment the ego in a hundred ways; all are
objectionable and shocking, either in their noisy and impertinent behaviour or
in their grotesque cruelty and obscenity. There is an apparent chaos of
incoherent visions, voices, and characters, all of an overwhelmingly strange
and incomprehensible nature.[On the Psychogenesis of Schizophrenia,” CW 3,
par. 508.]

Jung believed that many
psychoses, and particularly schizophrenia, were psychogenic, resulting from an abaissement
du niveau mental
and an ego too weak to resist the onslaught of unconscious
contents. He reserved judgment on whether biological factors were a
contributing cause.

Puer aeternus. Latin for “eternal
child,” used in mythology to designate a child-god who is forever young;
psychologically it refers to an older man whose emotional life has remained at
an adolescent level, usually coupled with too great a dependence on the mother.[The
term puella is used when referring to a woman, though one might also speak of a
puer animus-or a puella anima.]

The puer typically leads a provisional life, due to the fear of being caught in
a situation from which it might not be possible to escape. His lot is seldom
what he really wants and one day he will do something about it-but not just
yet. Plans for the future slip away in fantasies of what will be, what could
be, while no decisive action is taken to change. He covets independence and
freedom, chafes at boundaries and limits, and tends to find any restriction

[The world] makes
demands on the masculinity of a man, on his ardour, above all on his courage
and resolution when it comes to throwing his whole being into the scales. For
this he would need a faithless Eros, one capable of forgetting his mother and
undergoing the pain of relinquishing the first love of his life.[The Syzygy:
Anima and Animus,” CW 9ii, par. 22.]

Common symptoms of puer
psychology are dreams of imprisonment and similar imagery: chains, bars, cages,
entrapment, bondage. Life itself, existential reality, is experienced as a
prison. The bars are unconscious ties to the unfettered world of early life.

The puer’s shadow is the senex (Latin for “old man”), associated with
the god Apollo-disciplined, controlled, responsible, rational, ordered. Conversely,
the shadow of the senex is the puer, related to Dionysus-unbounded instinct,
disorder, intoxication, whimsy.

Whoever lives out one
pattern to the exclusion of the other risks constellating the opposite. Hence
individuation quite as often involves the need for a well-controlled person to
get closer to the spontaneous, instinctual life as it does the puer’s need to
grow up.

The “eternal
child” in man is an indescribable experience, an incongruity, a handicap,
and a divine prerogative; an imponderable that determines the ultimate worth or
worthlessness of a personality.[The Psychology of the Child Archetype,” CW
9i, par. 300.]






















Quaternity. An image with a four-fold
structure, usually square or circular and symmetrical; psychologically, it
points to the idea of wholeness. (See also temenos.)

The quaternity is one
of the most widespread archetypes and has also proved to be one of the most
useful schemata for representing the arrangement of the functions by which the
conscious mind takes its bearings.[See below, typology.] It is like the
crossed threads in the telescope of our understanding. The cross formed by the
points of the quaternity is no less universal and has in addition the highest
possible moral and religious significance for Western man. Similarly the
circle, as the symbol of completeness and perfect being, is a widespread
expression for heaven, sun, and God; it also expresses the primordial image of
man and the soul.[“The Psychology of the Transference,” CW 16, par.

From the circle and
quaternity motif is derived the symbol of the geometrically formed crystal and
the wonder-working stone. From here analogy formation leads on to the city,
castle, church, house, and vessel. Another variant is the wheel (rota). The
former motif emphasizes the ego’s containment in the greater dimension of the
self; the latter emphasizes the rotation which also appears as a ritual
circumambulation. Psychologically, it denotes concentration on and
preoccupation with a centre.[The Structure and Dynamics of the Self,” CW
9ii, par. 352.]

Jung believed that the
spontaneous production of quaternary images (including mandalas), whether
consciously or in dreams and fantasies, can indicate the ego’s capacity to
assimilate unconscious material. But they may also be essentially apotropaic,
an attempt by the psyche to prevent itself from disintegrating.

These images are
naturally only anticipations of a wholeness which is, in principle, always just
beyond our reach. Also, they do not invariably indicate a subliminal readiness
on the part of the patient to realize that wholeness consciously, at a later
stage; often they mean no more than a temporary compensation of chaotic
confusion.[The Psychology of the Transference,” CW 16, par. 536.]

Rapport. A feeling of agreement between
oneself and others.

It frequently happens
that despite an absolute difference of standpoint a rapport nevertheless comes
about, and in the following way: one party, by unspoken projection, assumes
that the other is, in all essentials, of the same opinion as himself, while the
other divines or senses an objective community of interest, of which, however,
the former has no conscious inkling and whose existence he would at once
dispute, just as it would never occur to the other that his relationship should
be based on a common point of view. A rapport of this kind is by far the most
frequent; it rests on mutual projection, which later becomes the source of many
misunderstandings. [“General Description of the Types,” CW 6, par.

Rational. Descriptive of thoughts,
feelings and actions that accord with reason, an attitude based on objective
values established by practical experience. (Compare irrational.)

The rational attitude
which permits us to declare objective values as valid at all is not the work of
the individual subject, but the product of human history.
Most objective values-and reason itself-are firmly established complexes of
ideas handed down through the ages. Countless generations have laboured at
their organization with the same necessity with which the living organism
reacts to the average, constantly recurring environmental conditions,
confronting them with corresponding functional complexes, as the eye, for
instance, perfectly corresponds to the nature of light. . . . Thus the laws of
reason are the laws that designate and govern the average, “correct,”
adapted attitude. Everything is “rational” that accords with these
laws, everything that contravenes them is “irrational.”[Definitions,”
ibid., par. 785f.]

Jung described the
psychological functions of thinking and feeling as rational because they are
decisively influenced by reflection.

Rebirth. A process experienced as a
renewal or transformation of the personality. (See also individuation.)

Rebirth is not a
process that we can in any way observe. We can neither measure nor weigh nor
photograph it. It is entirely beyond sense perception. . . . One speaks of
rebirth; one professes rebirth; one is filled with rebirth. . . . We have to be
content with its psychic reality.[Concerning Rebirth,” CW 9i, par. 206.]

Jung distinguished
between five different forms of rebirth: metempsychosis (transmigration
of souls), reincarnation (in a human body), resurrection, psychological
(individuation) and indirect change that comes about through
participation in the process of transformation.

Psychological rebirth was Jung’s particular focus. Induced by ritual or
stimulated by immediate personal experience, it results in an enlargement of
the personality. He acknowledged that one might feel transformed during certain
group experiences, but he cautioned against confusing this with genuine

If any considerable
group of persons are united and identified with one another by a particular
frame of mind, the resultant transformation experience bears only a very remote
resemblance to the experience of individual transformation. A group experience
takes place on a lower level of consciousness than the experience of an
individual. This is due to the fact that, when many people gather together to
share one common emotion, the total psyche emerging from the group is below the
level of the individual psyche. If it is a very large group, the collective
psyche will be more like the psyche of an animal . . . .
. . . The group experience goes no deeper than the level of one’s own mind in
that state. It does work a change in you, but the change does not last.[Ibid.,
pars. 225f.]

Reductive. Literally, “leading
back,” descriptive of interpretations of dreams and neurosis
in terms of events in outer life, particularly those in childhood. (Compare constructive
and final.)

The reductive method
is oriented backwards, in contrast to the constructive method . . . . The
interpretive methods of both Freud and Adler are reductive, since in both cases
there is a reduction to the elementary processes of wishing or striving, which
in the last resort are of an infantile or physiological nature. . . . Reduction
has a disintegrative effect on the real significance of the unconscious
product, since this is either traced back to its historical antecedents [e.g.,
childhood] and thereby annihilated, or integrated once again with the same
elementary process from which it arose.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 788.]

In dream interpretation,
the reductive (also called mechanistic) method seeks to explain images of
persons and situations in terms of concrete reality. The constructive or final
approach focuses on the dream’s symbolic content.

Although Jung himself concentrated on the constructive approach, he regarded reductive
analysis as an important first step in the treatment of psychological problems,
particularly in the first half of life.

The neuroses of the
young generally come from a collision between the forces of reality and an
inadequate, infantile attitude, which from the causal point of view is
characterized by an abnormal dependence on the real or imaginary parents, and
from the teleological point of view by unrealizable fictions, plans, and
aspirations. Here the reductive methods of Freud and Adler are entirely in
place.[The Problem of the Attitude-Type,” CW 7, par. 88.]

Reflection. Mental activity that
concentrates on a particular content of consciousness, an instinct encompassing
religion and the search for meaning.

Ordinarily we do not
think of “reflection” as ever having been instinctive, but associate
it with a conscious state of mind. Reflexio means “bending
back” and, used psychologically, would denote the fact that the reflex
which carries the stimulus over into its instinctive discharge is interfered
with by psychization. . . . Thus in place of the compulsive act there appears a
certain degree of freedom, and in place of predictability a relative
unpredictability as to the effect of the impulse.[“Psychological Factors
in Human Behaviour,” CW 8, par. 241.]

In Jung’s view, the
richness of the human psyche and its essential character are determined by the
reflective instinct.

Reflection is the
cultural instinct par excellence, and its strength is shown in the power of
culture to maintain itself in the face of untamed nature.[ Ibid., par. 243. ]

Regression. The backward movement of libido
to an earlier mode of adaptation, often accompanied by infantile
fantasies and wishes. (See also depression; compare progression.)

Regression . . . as an
adaptation to the conditions of the inner world, springs from the vital need to
satisfy the demands of individuation.[“On Psychic Energy,” ibid.,
par. 75.]

What robs Nature of
its glamour, and life of its joy, is the habit of looking back for something
that used to be outside, instead of looking inside, into the depths of the
depressive state. This looking back leads to regression and is the first step
along that path. Regression is also an involuntary introversion in so far as
the past is an object of memory and therefore a psychic content, an endopsychic
factor. It is a relapse into the past caused by a depression in the
present.[The Sacrifice,” CW 5, par. 625.]

Jung believed that the
blockage of the forward movement of energy is due to the inability of the
dominant conscious attitude to adapt to changing circumstances. However, the
unconscious contents thereby activated contain the seeds of a new progression.
For instance, the opposite or inferior function is waiting in the wings,
potentially capable of modifying the inadequate conscious attitude.

If thinking fails as
the adapted function, because it is dealing with a situation to which one can
adapt only by feeling, then the unconscious material activated by regression
will contain the missing feeling function, although still in embryonic form,
archaic and undeveloped. Similarly, in the opposite type, regression would
activate a thinking function that would effectively compensate the inadequate
feeling. [“On Psychic Energy,” CW 8, par. 65.]

The regression of energy
confronts us with the problem of our own psychology. From the final point of
view, therefore, regression is as necessary in the developmental process as is

Regarded causally,
regression is determined, say, by a “mother fixation.” But from the
final standpoint the libido regresses to the imago of the mother in
order to find there the memory associations by means of which further
development can take place, for instance from a sexual system into an
intellectual or spiritual system.
The first explanation exhausts itself in stressing the importance of the cause
and completely overlooks the final significance of the regressive process. From
this angle the whole edifice of civilization becomes a mere substitute for the
impossibility of incest. But the second explanation allows us to foresee what
will follow from the regression, and at the same time it helps us to understand
the significance of the memory-images that have been reactivated.[ Ibid., pars.
43f. ]

Jung believed that behind
the mundane symptoms of regression lay its symbolic meaning: the need for
psychological renewal, reflected in mythology as the journey of the hero.

It is precisely the
strongest and best among men, the heroes, who give way to their regressive
longing and purposely expose themselves to the danger of being devoured by the
monster of the maternal abyss. But if a man is a hero, he is a hero because, in
the final reckoning, he did not let the monster devour him, but subdued it, not
once but many times. Victory over the collective psyche alone yields the true
value-the capture of the hoard, the invincible weapon, the magic talisman, or
whatever it be that the myth deems most desirable.[The Relations between the
Ego and the Unconscious,” CW 7, par. 261.]

Regressive restoration
of the persona
. A
term used to describe what can happen when there has been a major collapse in
the conscious attitude.

Take as an example a
businessman who takes too great a risk and consequently goes bankrupt. If he
does not allow himself to be discouraged by this depressing experience, but,
undismayed, keeps his former daring, perhaps with a little salutary caution
added, his wound will be healed without permanent injury. But if, on the other
hand, he goes to pieces, abjures all further risks, and laboriously tries to
patch up his social reputation within the confines of a much more limited
personality, doing inferior work with the mentality of a scared child, in a
post far below him, then, technically speaking, he will have restored his
persona in a regressive way. . . . Formerly perhaps he wanted more than he
could accomplish; now he does not even dare to attempt what he has it in him to
do.[ Ibid., par. 254.]

The regressive
restoration of the persona is a possible course only for the man who owes the
critical failure of his life to his own inflatedness. With diminished
personality, he turns back to the measure he can fill. But in every other case
resignation and self-belittlement are an evasion, which in the long run can be
kept up only at the cost of neurotic sickliness.[Ibid., par. 259.]

Religious attitude. Psychologically, an attitude
informed by the careful observation of, and respect for, invisible forces and
personal experience.

We might say . . .
that the term “religion” designates the attitude peculiar to a
consciousness which has been changed by experience of the
numinosum.[“Psychology and Religion,” CW 11, par. 9.]

Religion . . . is an
instinctive attitude peculiar to man, and its manifestations can be followed
all through human history. [“The Undiscovered Self,” CW 10, par.

The religious attitude is
quite different from faith associated with a specific creed. The latter, as a
codified and dogmatized form of an original religious experience, simply gives
expression to a particular collective belief. True religion involves a
subjective relationship to certain metaphysical, extramundane factors.

A creed is a
confession of faith intended chiefly for the world at large and is thus an
intramundane affair, while the meaning and purpose of religion lie in the
relationship of the individual to God (Christianity, Judaism, Islam) or to the
path of salvation and liberation (Buddhism). [Ibid., par. 507.]

Jung believed that a
neurosis in the second half of life is seldom cured without the development of
a religious attitude, prompted by a spontaneous revelation of the spirit.

This spirit is an
autonomous psychic happening, a hush that follows the storm, a reconciling
light in the darkness of man’s mind, secretly bringing order into the chaos of
his soul. [“A Psychological Approach to the Trinity,” CW 11, par.

Repression. The unconscious suppression of
psychic contents that are incompatible with the attitude of consciousness.

Repression is a
process that begins in early childhood under the moral influence of the environment
and continues through life.[“The Personal and the Collective
Unconscious,” CW 7, par. 202.]

Repression causes what
is called a systematic amnesia, where only specific memories or groups
of ideas are withdrawn from recollection. In such cases a certain attitude or
tendency can be detected on the part of the conscious mind, a deliberate
intention to avoid even the bare possibility of recollection, for the very good
reason that it would be painful or disagreeable [Analytical Psychology and
Education,” CW 17, par. 199a.]

Repression is not only a
factor in the etiology of many neuroses, it also determines contents of the
personal shadow, since the ego generally represses material that would disturb
peace of mind

In the course of
development following puberty, consciousness is confronted with affective
tendencies, impulses, and fantasies which for a variety of reasons it is not
willing or not able to assimilate. It then reacts with repression in various
forms, in the effort to get rid of the troublesome intruders. The general rule
is that the more negative the conscious attitude is, and the more it resists,
devalues, and is afraid, the more repulsive, aggressive, and frightening is the
face which the dissociated content assumes.[“The Philosophical Tree,”
CW 13, par. 464.]

Many repressed contents
come to the surface naturally during the analytic process. Where there are
strong resistances to uncovering repressed material, Jung believed these should
always be respected lest the ego be overwhelmed.

The general rule
should be that the weakness of the conscious attitude is proportional to the
strength of the resistance. When, therefore, there are strong resistances, the
conscious rapport with the patient must be carefully watched, and-in certain
cases-his conscious attitude must be supported to such a degree that, in view
of later developments, one would be bound to charge oneself with the grossest
inconsistency. That is inevitable, because one can never be too sure that the
weak state of the patient’s conscious mind will prove equal to the subsequent
assault of the unconscious. In fact, one must go on supporting his conscious
(or, as Freud thinks, “repres-sive”) attitude until the patient can
let the “repressed” contents rise up spontaneously.[The Psychology of
the Unconscious,” CW 16, par. 381.]

Sacred marriage. See coniunctio.

Sacrifice. Psychologically, associated with
the need to give up the world of childhood, often signaled by the regression
of energy.

One must give up the
retrospective longing which only wants to resuscitate the torpid bliss and
effortlessness of childhood.[The Sacrifice,” CW 5, par. 643.]

For him who looks
backwards the whole world, even the starry sky, becomes the mother who bends
over him and enfolds him on all sides, and from the renunciation of this image,
and of the longing for it, arises the picture of the world as we know it
today.[ Ibid., par. 646.]

Schizophrenia. See psychosis.

Self. The archetype of wholeness and
the regulating center of the psyche; a transpersonal power that transcends the

As an empirical
concept, the self designates the whole range of psychic phenomena in man. It
expresses the unity of the personality as a whole. But in so far as the total
personality, on account of its unconscious component, can be only in part
conscious, the concept of the self is, in part, only potentially
empirical and is to that extent a postulate. In other words, it encompasses
both the experienceable and the inexperienceable (or the not yet experienced).
. . . It is a transcendental concept, for it presupposes the existence
of unconscious factors on empirical grounds and thus characterizes an entity
that can be described only in part.[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 789.]

The self is not only
the centre, but also the whole circumference which embraces both conscious and
unconscious; it is the centre of this totality, just as the ego is the centre
of consciousness. [“Introduction,” CW 12, par. 44.]

Like any archetype, the
essential nature of the self is unknowable, but its manifestations are the
content of myth and legend.

The self appears in
dreams, myths, and fairytales in the figure of the “supraordinate
personality,” such as a king, hero, prophet, saviour, etc., or in the form
of a totality symbol, such as the circle, square, quadratura circuli,
cross, etc. When it represents a complexio oppositorum, a union of
opposites, it can also appear as a united duality, in the form, for instance,
of tao as the interplay of yang and yin, or of the hostile
brothers, or of the hero and his adversary (arch-enemy, dragon), Faust and
Mephistopheles, etc. Empirically, therefore, the self appears as a play of
light and shadow, although conceived as a totality and unity in which the
opposites are united.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 790.]

The realization of the
self as an autonomous psychic factor is often stimulated by the irruption of
unconscious contents over which the ego has no control. This can result in
neurosis and a subsequent renewal of the personality, or in an inflated
identification with the greater power.

The ego cannot help
discovering that the afflux of unconscious contents has vitalized the
personality, enriched it and created a figure that somehow dwarfs the ego in
scope and intensity. . . . Naturally, in these circumstances there is the
greatest temptation simply to follow the power-instinct and to identify the ego
with the self outright, in order to keep up the illusion of the ego’s mastery.
. . . [But] the self has a functional meaning only when it can act
compensatorily to ego-consciousness. If the ego is dissolved in identification
with the self, it gives rise to a sort of nebulous superman with a puffed-up
ego.[On the Nature of the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 430.]

Experiences of the self
possess a numinosity characteristic of religious revelations. Hence Jung
believed there was no essential difference between the self as an experiential,
psychological reality and the traditional concept of a supreme deity.

It might equally be
called the “God within us.”[The Mana-Personality,” CW 7, par.

Self-regulation of the
. A concept
based on the compensatory relationship between consciousness and the
unconscious. (See also adaptation, compensation, neurosis, opposites and
transcendent function.)

The psyche does not
merely react, it gives its own specific answer to the influences at work upon
it.[Some Crucial Points in Psychoanalysis,” CW 4, par. 665.]

The process of
self-regulation is going on all the time within the psyche. It only becomes
noticeable when ego-consciousness has particular difficulty in adapting to
external or internal reality. That is often the start of a process, proceeeding
along the lines outlined in the chart, that may lead to individuation.



The Self-regulation of
the Psyche

1. Difficulty of
adaptation. Little progression of libido.

2. Regression of energy
(depression, lack of disposable energy).

3. Activation of
unconscious contents (fantasies, complexes,
archetypal images, inferior function, opposite attitude,
shadow, anima/animus, etc.). Compensation.

4. Symptoms of neurosis
(confusion, fear, anxiety, guilt, moods, extreme affect, etc.).

5. Unconscious or
half-conscious conflict between ego and contents activated in the unconscious.
Inner tension. Defensive reactions.

6. Activation of the
transcendent function, involving the self and archetypal patterns of wholeness.

7. Formation of symbols
(numinosity, synchronicity).

8. Transfer of energy
between unconscious contents and consciousness. Enlargement of the ego,
progression of energy.

9. Assimilation of
unconscious contents. Individuation.



Consciousness and the
unconscious seldom agree as to their contents and their tendencies. The
self-regulating activities of the psyche, manifest in dreams, fantasies and
synchronistic experiences, attempt to correct any significant imbalance. According
to Jung, this is necessary for several reasons:

(1) Consciousness
possesses a threshold intensity which its contents must have attained, so that
all elements that are too weak remain in the unconscious.

(2) Consciousness,
because of its directed functions, exercises an inhibition (which Freud calls
censorship) on all incompatible material, with the result that it sinks into
the unconscious.

(3) Consciousness
constitutes the momentary process of adaptation, whereas the unconscious
contains not only all the forgotten material of the individual’s own past, but
all the inherited behaviour traces constituting the structure of the mind
[i.e., archetypes].

(4) The unconscious
contains all the fantasy combinations which have not yet attained the threshold
intensity, but which in the course of time and under suitable conditions will
enter the light of consciousness.[“The Transcendent Function,” CW 8,
par. 132.]

Sensation. The psychological function
that perceives immediate reality through the physical senses. (Compare intuition.)

An attitude that seeks
to do justice to the unconscious as well as to one’s fellow human beings cannot
possibly rest on knowledge alone, in so far as this consists merely of thinking
and intuition. It would lack the function that perceives values, i.e., feeling,
as well as the fonction du réel, i.e., sensation, the sensible
perception of reality. [“the Psychology of the Transference,” CW 16,

In Jung’s model of
typology, sensation, like intuition, is an irrational function. It perceives
concrete facts, with no judgment of what they mean or what they are worth.

Sensation must be
strictly differentiated from feeling, since the latter is an entirely different
process, although it may associate itself with sensation as
“feeling-tone.” Sensation is related not only to external stimuli but
to inner ones, i.e., to changes in the internal organic
processes.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 792.]

Jung also distinguished
between sensuous or concrete sensation and abstract sensation.

Concrete sensation
never appears in “pure” form, but is always mix-ed up with ideas,
feelings, thoughts. . . . The concrete sensation of a flower . . . conveys a
perception not only of the flower as such, but also of the stem, leaves,
habitat, and so on. It is also instantly mingled with feeling of pleasure or
dislike which the sight of the flower evokes, or with simultaneous olfactory
perceptions, or with thoughts about its botanical classification, etc. But
abstract sensation immediately picks out the most salient sensuous attribute of
the flower, its brilliant redness, for instance, and makes this the sole or at
least the principle content of consciousness, entirely detached from all other
admixtures. Abstract sensation is found chiefly among artists. Like every
abstraction, it is a product of functional differentiation.[Ibid., par. 794.]

Shadow. Hidden or unconscious aspects of
oneself, both good and bad, which the ego has either repressed or never
recognized. (See also repression.)

The shadow is a moral
problem that challenges the whole ego-personality, for no one can become
conscious of the shadow without considerable moral effort. To become conscious
of it involves recognizing the dark aspects of the personality as present and
real. [“The Shadow,” CW 9ii, par. 14.]

Before unconscious
contents have been differentiated, the shadow is in effect the whole of the
unconscious. It is commonly personified in dreams by persons of the same sex as
the dreamer.

The shadow is composed for the most part of repressed desires and uncivilized
impulses, morally inferior motives, childish fantasies and resentments,
etc.–all those things about oneself one is not proud of. These unacknowledged
personal characteristics are often experienced in others through the mechanism
of projection.

Although, with insight
and good will, the shadow can to some extent be assimilated into the conscious
personality, experience shows that there are certain features which offer the
most obstinate resistance to moral control and prove almost impossible to influence.
These resistances are usually bound up with projections, which are not
recognized as such, and their recognition is a moral achievement beyond the
ordinary. While some traits peculiar to the shadow can be recognized without
too much difficulty as one’s personal qualities, in this case both insight and
good will are unavailing because the cause of the emotion appears to lie,
beyond all possibility of doubt, in the other person.[Ibid., par. 16.]

The realization of the
shadow is inhibited by the persona. To the degree that we identify with a
bright persona, the shadow is correspondingly dark. Thus shadow and persona
stand in a compensatory relationship, and the conflict between them is
invariably present in an outbreak of neurosis. The characteristic depression at
such times indicates the need to realize that one is not all one pretends or
wishes to be.

There is no generally effective technique for assimilating the shadow. It is
more like diplomacy or statesmanship and it is always an individual matter. First
one has to accept and take seriously the existence of the shadow. Second, one
has to become aware of its qualities and intentions. This happens through
conscientious attention to moods, fantasies and impulses. Third, a long process
of negotiation is unavoidable.

It is a therapeutic
necessity, indeed, the first requisite of any thorough psychological method,
for consciousness to confront its shadow. In the end this must lead to some
kind of union, even though the union consists at first in an open conflict, and
often remains so for a long time. It is a struggle that cannot be abolished by
rational means. When it is wilfully repressed it continues in the unconscious
and merely expresses itself indirectly and all the more dangerously, so no
advantage is gained. The struggle goes on until the opponents run out of
breath. What the outcome will be can never be seen in advance. The only certain
thing is that both parties will be changed.[“Rex and Regina,” CW 14,
par. 514.]

This process of coming
to terms with the Other in us is well worth while, because in this way we get
to know aspects of our nature which we would not allow anybody else to show us
and which we ourselves would never have admitted.[The Conjunction,” ibid.,
par. 706.]

Responsibility for the
shadow rests with the ego. That is why the shadow is a moral problem. It is one
thing to realize what it looks like-what we are capable of. It is quite
something else to determine what we can live out, or with.

Confrontation with the
shadow produces at first a dead balance, a standstill that hampers moral
decisions and makes convictions ineffective or even impossible. Everything
becomes doubtful.[Ibid., par. 708.]

The shadow is not,
however, only the dark underside of the personality. It also consists of
instincts, abilities and positive moral qualities that have long been buried or
never been conscious.

The shadow is merely
somewhat inferior, primitive, unadapted, and awkward; not wholly bad. It even
contains childish or primitive qualities which would in a way vitalize and
embellish human existence, but-convention forbids![Psychology and
Religion,” CW 11, par. 134.]

If it has been
believed hitherto that the human shadow was the source of all evil, it can now
be ascertained on closer investigation that the unconscious man, that is, his
shadow, does not consist only of morally reprehensible tendencies, but also
displays a number of good qualities, such as normal instincts, appropriate
reactions, realistic insights, creative impulses, etc.[Conclusion,” CW
9ii, par. 423.]

An outbreak of neurosis
constellates both sides of the shadow: those qualities and activities one is
not proud of, and new possibilities one never knew were there.

Jung distinguished between the personal and the collective or archetypal

With a little
self-criticism one can see through the shadow-so far as its nature is personal.
But when it appears as an archetype, one encounters the same difficulties as
with anima and animus. In other words, it is quite within the bounds of
possibility for a man to recognize the relative evil of his nature, but it is a
rare and shattering experience for him to gaze into the face of absolute
evil.[“The Shadow,” ibid., par. 19.]

Soul. A functional complex in the
psyche. (See also Eros, Logos and soul-image.)
While Jung often used the word soul in its traditional theological sense, he
strictly limited its psychological meaning.

I have been compelled,
in my investigations into the structure of the unconscious, to make a
conceptual distinction between soul and psyche. By psyche I
understand the totality of all psychic processes, conscious as well as
unconscious. By soul, on the other hand, I understand a clearly demarcated
functional complex that can best be described as a “personality.”
[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 797]

With this understanding,
Jung outlined partial manifestations of the soul in terms of anima/animus and
persona. In his later writing on the transference, informed by his study of the
alchemical opus-which Jung understood as psychologically analogous to the
individuation process–he was more specific.

The “soul”
which accrues to ego-consciousness during the opus has a feminine character in
the man and a masculine character in a woman. His anima wants to reconcile and
unite; her animus tries to discern and discriminate.[The Psychology of the
Transference,” CW 16, par. 522.]

Soul-image. The representation, in dreams or
other products of the unconscious, of the inner personality, usually
contrasexual. (See also anima and animus.)

Wherever an
impassioned, almost magical, relationship exists between the sexes, it is
invariably a question of a projected soul-image. Since these relationships are
very common, the soul must be unconscious just as
frequently.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 809. ]

The soul-image is a
specific archetypal image produced by the unconscious, commonly experienced in
projection onto a person of the opposite sex.

For an idealistic
woman, a depraved man is often the bearer of the soul-image; hence the
“saviour-fantasy” so frequent in such cases. The same thing happens
with men, when the prostitute is surrounded with the halo of a soul crying for
succour.[ Ibid., par. 811.]

Where consciousness
itself is identified with the soul, the soul-image is more likely to be an
aspect of the persona.

In that event, the
persona, being unconscious, will be projected on a person of the same sex, thus
providing a foundation for many cases of open or latent homosexuality, and of
father-transferences in men or mother-transferences in women. In such cases
there is always a defective adaptation to external reality and a lack of
relatedness, because identification with the soul produces an attitude
predominantly oriented to the perception of inner processes.[Ibid., par. 809.]

Many relationships begin
and initially thrive on the basis of projected soul-images. Inherently
symbiotic, they often end badly.

Spirit. An archetype and a functional
complex, often personified and experienced as enlivening, analogous to
what the archaic mind felt to be an invisible, breathlike “presence.”

Spirit, like God,
denotes an object of psychic experience which cannot be proved to exist in the
external world and cannot be understood rationally. This is its meaning if we
use the word “spirit” in its best sense.[Spirit and Life,” CW 8,
par. 626.]

The archetype of
spirit in the shape of a man, hobgoblin, or animal always appears in a
situation where insight, understanding, good advice, determination, planning,
etc., are needed but cannot be mustered on one’s own resources. The archetype
compensates this state of spiritual deficiency by contents designed to fill the
gap.[“The Phenomenology of the Spirit in Fairytales,” CW 9i, par.

Jung was careful to
distinguish between spirit as a psychological concept and its traditional use
in religion.

From the psychological
point of view, the phenomenon of spirit, like every autonomous complex, appears
as an intention of the unconscious superior to, or at least on a par with,
intentions of the ego. If we are to do justice to the essence of the thing we
call spirit, we should really speak of a “higher” consciousness
rather than of the unconscious. [“Spirit and Life,” CW 8, par. 643.]

The common modern idea
of spirit ill accords with the Christian view, which regards it as the summum
, as God himself. To be sure, there is also the idea of an evil
spirit. But the modern idea cannot be equated with that either, since for us
spirit is not necessarily evil; we would have to call it morally indifferent or
neutral.[The Phenomenology of the Spirit in Fairytales,” CW 9i, par. 394.]

Splitting. A term used to describe the dissociation
of the personality, marked by attitudes and behavior patterns determined by complexes.
(See also neurosis.)

Although this
peculiarity is most clearly observable in psychopathology, fundamentally it is
a normal phenomenon, which can be recognized with the greatest ease in the
projections made by the primitive psyche. The tendency to split means that
parts of the psyche detach themselves from consciousness to such an extent that
they not only appear foreign but lead an autonomous life of their own. It need
not be a question of hysterical multiple personality, or schizophrenic
alterations of personality, but merely of so-called “complexes” that
come entirely within the scope of the normal. [“Psychological Factors in
Human Behaviour,” CW 8, par. 253].

Subjective level. The approach to dreams and
other images where the persons or situations pictured are seen as symbolic
representations of factors belonging entirely to the subject’s own psyche. (Compare
objective level.)

Interpretation of an
unconscious product on the subjective level reveals the presence of subjective
judgments and tendencies of which the object is made the vehicle. When,
therefore, an object-imago appears in an unconscious product, it is not on that
account the image of a real object; it is far more likely that we are dealing
with a subjective functional complex. Interpretation on the subjective level
allows us to take a broader psychological view not only of dreams but also of literary
works, in which the individual figures then appear as representatives of
relatively autonomous functional complexes in the psyche of the
author.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 813.]

In the analytic process,
the main task after the reductive interpretation of images thrown up by the
unconscious is to understand what they say about oneself.

To establish a really
mature attitude, he has to see the subjective value of all these images
which seem to create trouble for him. He has to assimilate them into his own psychology;
he has to find out in what way they are part of himself; how he attributes for
instance a positive value to an object, when as a matter of fact it is
he who could and should develop this value. And in the same way, when he
projects negative qualities and therefore hates and loathes the object, he has
to discover that he is projecting his own inferior side, his shadow, as it
were, because he prefers to have an optimistic and one-sided image of
himself.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 813.]

Subjective psyche. See personal unconscious.

Subtle body. The somatic unconscious, a
transcendental concept involving the relationship between mind and body.

The part of the
unconscious which is designated as the subtle body becomes more and more
identical with the functioning of the body, and therefore it grows darker and
darker and ends in the utter darkness of matter. . . . Somewhere our
unconscious becomes material, because the body is the living unit, and our
conscious and our unconscious are embedded in it: they contact the body.
Somewhere there is a place where the two ends meet and become interlocked. And
that is the [subtle body] where one cannot say whether it is matter, or what
one calls “psyche.”[ Nietzsche’s Zarathustra, vol. 1, p. 441.]

Superior function. See primary function.

. An
aspect of the psyche superior to, and transcending, the ego. (See also self.)

“supraordinate personality” is the total man, i.e., man as he really
is, not as he appears to himself. . . . I usually describe the supraordinate
personality as the “self,” thus making a sharp distinction between
the ego, which, as is well known, extends only as far as the conscious mind,
and the whole of the personality, which includes the unconscious as well
as the conscious component. The ego is thus related to the self as part to
whole. To that extent the self is supraordinate.[The Psychological Aspects of
the Kore,” CW 9i, pars. 314f.]

Symbiosis. A psychological state where
contents of one’s personal unconscious are experienced in another person. (See
also projection and soul-image.)

Symbiosis manifests in unconscious interpersonal bonds, easily established and
difficult to break. Jung gave an example in terms of introversion and
extraversion. Where one of these attitudes is dominant, the other, being
unconscious, is automatically projected.

Either type has a
predilection to marry its opposite, each being unconsciously complementary to
the other. . . . The one takes care of reflection and the other sees to the
initiative and practical action. When the two types marry, they may effect an
ideal union. So long as they are fully occupied with their adaptation to the
manifold external needs of life they fit together admirably.[“The Problem
of the Attitude-Type,” CW 7, par. 80.]

Problems in such
relationships typically surface only later in life, accompanied by strong

When the man has made
enough money, or if a fine legacy should drop from the skies and external
necessity no longer presses, then they have time to occupy themselves with one
another. Hitherto they stood back to back and defended themselves against
necessity. But now they turn face to face and look for understanding-only to
discover that they have never understood one another. Each speaks a different
language. Then the conflict between the two types begins. This struggle is
envenomed, brutal, full of mutual depreciation, even when conducted quietly and
in the greatest intimacy. For the value of the one is the negation of value for
the other.[Ibid.]

The ending of a symbiotic
relationship often precipitates an outbreak of neurosis, stimulated by an inner
need to assimilate those aspects of oneself that were projected onto the

Symbol. The best possible expression for
something unknown. (See also constructive and final.)

Every psychological
expression is a symbol if we assume that it states or signifies something more
and other than itself which eludes our present knowledge.[Definitions,” CW
6, par. 817.]

Jung distinguished
between a symbol and a sign. Insignia on uniforms, for instance, are not
symbols but signs that identify the wearer. In dealing with unconscious
material (dreams, fantasies, etc.), the images can be interpreted semiotically,
as symptomatic signs pointing to known or knowable facts, or symbolically, as
expressing something essentially unknown.

The interpretation of
the cross as a symbol of divine love is semiotic, because “divine
love” describes the fact to be expressed better and more aptly than a
cross, which can have many other meanings. On the other hand, an interpretation
of the cross is symbolic when it puts the cross beyond all conceivable
explanations, regarding it as expressing an as yet unknown and incomprehensible
fact of a mystical or transcendent, i.e., psychological, nature, which simply
finds itself most appropriately represented in the cross.[ Ibid., par. 815.]

Whether something is
interpreted as a symbol or a sign depends mainly on the attitude of the
observer. Jung linked the semiotic and symbolic approaches, respectively, to the
causal and final points of view. He acknowledged the importance of both.

Psychic development
cannot be accomplished by intention and will alone; it needs the attraction of
the symbol, whose value quantum exceeds that of the cause. But the formation of
a symbol cannot take place until the mind has dwelt long enough on the
elementary facts, that is to say until the inner or outer necessities of the
life-process have brought about a transformation of energy.[“On Psychic
Energy,” CW 8, par. 47.]

The symbolic attitude is
at bottom constructive, in that it gives priority to understanding the meaning
or purpose of psychological phenomena, rather than seeking a reductive

There are, of course,
neurotics who regard their unconscious products, which are mostly morbid
symptoms, as symbols of supreme importance. Generally, however, this is not
what happens. On the contrary, the neurotic of today is only too prone to
regard a product that may actually be full of significance as a mere
“symptom.[Definitions, CW 6, par. 821.]

Jung’s primary interest
in symbols lay in their ability to transform and redirect instinctive energy.

How are we to explain
religious processes, for instance, whose nature is essentially symbolical? In
abstract form, symbols are religious ideas; in the form of action, they are
rites or ceremonies. They are the manifestation and expression of excess
libido. At the same time they are stepping-stones to new activities, which must
be called cultural in order to distinguish them from the instinctual functions
that run their regular course according to natural law.[“On Psychic
Energy,” CW 8, par. 91.]

The formation of symbols
is going on all the time within the psyche, appearing in fantasies and dreams.
In analysis, after reductive explanations have been exhausted, symbol-formation
is reinforced by the constructive approach. The aim is to make instinctive
energy available for meaningful work and a productive life.

Synchronicity. A phenomenon where an event in
the outside world coincides meaningfully with a psychological state of mind.

Synchronicity . . .
consists of two factors: a) An unconscious image comes into consciousness
either directly (i.e., literally) or indirectly (symbolized or suggested) in
the form of a dream, idea, or premonition. b) An objective situation coincides
with this content. The one is as puzzling as the other.[“Synchronicity: An
Acausal Connecting Principle,” ibid., par. 858.]

Jung associated
synchronistic experiences with the relativity of space and time and a degree of

The very diverse and
confusing aspects of these phenomena are, so far as I can see at present,
completely explicable on the assumption of a psychically relative space-time
continuum. As soon as a psychic content crosses the threshold of consciousness,
the synchronistic marginal phenomena disappear, time and space resume their
accustomed sway, and consciousness is once more isolated in its subjectivity. .
. . Conversely, synchronistic phenomena can be evoked by putting the subject
into an unconscious state.[On the Nature of the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 440.]

Synchronicity was defined
by Jung as an “acausal connecting principle,” an essentially
mysterious connection between the personal psyche and the material world, based
on the fact that at bottom they are only different forms of energy.

It is not only
possible but fairly probable, even, that psyche and matter are two different
aspects of one and the same thing. The synchronicity phenomena point, it seems
to me, in this direction, for they show that the nonpsychic can behave like the
psychic, and vice versa, without there being any causal connection between
them.[Ibid., par. 418.]

Synthetic. See constructive.

Temenos. A Greek word meaning a sacred,
protected space; psychologically, descriptive of both a personal container and
the sense of privacy that surrounds an analytical relationship.

Jung believed that the need to establish or preserve a temenos is often
indicated by drawings or dream images of a quaternary nature, such as mandalas.

The symbol of the
mandala has exactly this meaning of a holy place, a temenos, to protect
the centre. And it is a symbol which is one of the most important motifs in the
objectivation of unconscious images. It is a means of protecting the centre of
the personality from being drawn out and from being influenced from
outside.[“The Tavistock Lectures,” CW 18, par. 410.]

Tertium non datur. The reconciling
“third,” not logically foreseeable, characteristic of a resolution in
a conflict situation when the tension between opposites has been
held in consciousness. (See also transcendent function.)

As a rule it occurs
when the analysis has constellated the opposites so powerfully that a union or
synthesis of the personality becomes an imperative necessity. . . . [This
situation] requires a real solution and necessitates a third thing in which the
opposites can unite. Here the logic of the intellect usually fails, for in a
logical antithesis there is no third. The “solvent” can only be of an
irrational nature. In nature the resolution of opposites is always an energic
process: she acts symbolically in the truest sense of the word, doing
something that expresses both sides, just as a waterfall visibly mediates
between above and below.[The Conjunction,” CW 14, par. 705.]

Thinking. The mental process of
interpreting what is perceived. (Compare feeling.)

In Jung’s model of
typology, thinking is one of the four functions used for psychological
orientation. Along with feeling, it is a rational function. If thinking is the
primary function, then feeling is automatically the inferior function.

Thinking, if it is to
be real thinking and true to its own principle, must rigorously exclude
feeling. This, of course, does not do away with the the fact that there are
individuals whose thinking and feeling are on the same level, both being of
equal motive power for consciousness. But in these cases there is also no
question of a differentiated type, but merely of relatively undeveloped
thinking and feeling.[“General Description of the Types,” CW 6, par.

As a process of
apperception, thinking may be active or passive.

Active thinking is an
act of the will, passive thinking is a mere occurrence. In the former
case, I submit the contents of ideation to a voluntary act of judgment; in the
latter, conceptual connections establish themselves of their own accord, and
judgments are formed that may even contradict my intention. . . . Active
thinking, accordingly, would correspond to my concept of directed thinking.
Passive thinking . . . I would call . . . intuitive
thinking.[“Definitions,” ibid., par. 830.]

The capacity for
directed thinking I call intellect; the capacity for passive or
undirected thinking I call intellectual intuition.[Ibid., par. 832.]

Transcendent function. A psychic function that arises
from the tension between consciousness and the unconscious and supports their
union. (See also opposites and tertium non datur.)

When there is full
parity of the opposites, attested by the ego’s absolute participation in both,
this necessarily leads to a suspension of the will, for the will can no longer
operate when every motive has an equally strong countermotive. Since life
cannot tolerate a standstill, a damming up of vital energy results, and this
would lead to an insupportable condition did not the tension of opposites
produce a new, uniting function that transcends them. This function arises
quite naturally from the regression of libido caused by the blockage.[Ibid.,
par. 824.]

The tendencies of the
conscious and the unconscious are the two factors that together make up the
transcendent function. It is called “transcendent” because it makes
the transition from one attitude to another organically possible.[The
Transcendent Function,” CW 8, par. 145.]

In a conflict situation,
or a state of depression for which there is no apparent reason, the development
of the transcendent function depends on becoming aware of unconscious material.
This is most readily available in dreams, but because they are so difficult to
understand Jung considered the method of active imagination-giving
“form” to dreams, fantasies, etc.–to be more useful.

Once the unconscious
content has been given form and the meaning of the formulation is understood,
the question arises as to how the ego will relate to this position, and how the
ego and the unconscious are to come to terms. This is the second and more
important stage of the procedure, the bringing together of opposites for the
production of a third: the transcendent function. At this stage it is no longer
the unconscious that takes the lead, but the ego.[Ibid., par. 181.]

This process requires an
ego that can maintain its standpoint in face of the counterposition of the
unconscious. Both are of equal value. The confrontation between the two
generates a tension charged with energy and creates a living, third essence.

From the activity of
the unconscious there now emerges a new content, constellated by thesis and
antithesis in equal measure and standing in a compensatory relation to both. It
thus forms the middle ground on which the opposites can be united. If, for
instance, we conceive the opposition to be sensuality versus spirituality, then
the mediatory content born out of the unconscious provides a welcome means of
expression for the spiritual thesis, because of its rich spiritual
associations, and also for the sensual antithesis, because of its sensuous
imagery. The ego, however, torn between thesis and antithesis, finds in the
middle ground its own counterpart, its sole and unique means of expression, and
it eagerly seizes on this in order to be delivered from its
division.[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 825.]

The transcendent function
is essentially an aspect of the self-regulation of the psyche. It typically
manifests symbolically and is experienced as a new attitude toward oneself and

If the mediatory
product remains intact, it forms the raw material for a process not of
dissolution but of construction, in which thesis and antithesis both play their
part. In this way it becomes a new content that governs the whole attitude, putting
an end to the division and forcing the energy of the opposites into a common
channel. The standstill is overcome and life can flow on with renewed power
towards new goals.[Ibid., par. 827.]

Transference. A particular case of projection,
used to describe the unconscious, emotional bond that arises in the analysand
toward the analyst. (See also countertransference.)

Unconscious contents
are invariably projected at first upon concrete persons and situations. Many
projections can ultimately be integrated back into the individual once he has
recognized their subjective origin; others resist integration, and although
they may be detached from their original objects, they thereupon transfer
themselves to the doctor. Among these contents the relation to the parent of
opposite sex plays an important part, i.e., the relation of son to mother,
daughter to father, and also that of brother to sister.[“The Psychology of
the Transference,” CW 16, par. 357.]

Once the projections
are recognized as such, the particular form of rapport known as the
transference is at an end, and the problem of individual relationship
begins.[The Therapeutic Value of Abreaction,” ibid., par. 287.]

A transference may be
either positive or negative; the former is marked by feelings of affection and
respect, the latter by hostility and resistance.

For one type of person
(called the infantile-rebel) a positive transference is, to begin with, an
important achievement with a healing significance; for the other (the
infantile-obedient) it is a dangerous backsliding, a convenient way of evading
life’s duties. For the first a negative transference denotes increased
insubordination, hence a backsliding and an evasion of life’s duties, for the
second it is a step forward with a healing significance. [“Some Crucial
Points in Psychoanalysis,” CW 4, par. 659.]

Jung did not regard the
transference merely as a projection of infantile-erotic fantasies. Though these
may be present at the beginning of analysis, they can be dissolved through the
reductive method. Then the purpose of the transference becomes the main issue
and guide.

An exclusively sexual
interpretation of dreams and fantasies is a shocking violation of the patient’s
psychological material: infantile-sexual fantasy is by no means the whole
story, since the material also contains a creative element, the purpose of
which is to shape a way out of the neurosis.[“The Therapeutic Value of
Abreaction,” CW 16, par. 277.]

Although Jung made
contradictory statements about the therapeutic importance of the transference–for

The transference
phenomenon is an inevitable feature of every thorough analysis, for it is
imperative that the doctor should get into the closest possible touch with the
patient’s line of psychological development.[Ibid., par. 283.]

We do not work with
the “transference to the analyst,” but against it and in spite of
“Some Crucial Points in Psychoanalysis,” CW 4, par. 601.]

A transference is
always a hindrance; it is never an advantage.[“The Tavistock
Lectures,” CW 18, par. 349.]

Medical treatment of
the transference gives the patient a priceless opportunity to withdraw his
projections, to make good his losses, and to integrate his personality.[The
Psychology of the Transference,” CW 16, par. 420.]

–he did not doubt its
significance when it was present.

The suitably trained
analyst mediates the transcendent function for the patient, i.e., helps him to
bring conscious and unconscious together and so arrive at a new attitude. . . .
The patient clings by means of the transference to the person who seems to
promise him a renewal of attitude; through it he seeks this change, which is
vital to him, even though he may not be conscious of doing so. For the patient,
therefore, the analyst has the character of an indispensable figure absolutely
necessary for life.[“The Transcendent Function,” CW 8, par. 146.]

Whatever is unconscious
in the analysand and needed for healthy functioning is projected onto the
analyst. This includes archetypal images of wholeness, with the result that the
analyst takes on the stature of a mana-personality. The analysand’s task is
then to understand such images on the subjective level, a primary aim being to
constellate the patient’s own inner analyst.

Empathy is an important purposive element in the transference. By means of
empathy the analysand attempts to emulate the presumably healthier attitude of
the analyst, and thereby to attain a better level of adaptation.

The patient is bound
to the analyst by ties of affection or resistance and cannot help following and
imitating his psychic attitude. By this means he feels his way along (empathy).
And with the best will in the world and for all his technical skill the analyst
cannot prevent it, for empathy works surely and instinctively in spite of
conscious judgment, be it never so strong.[“Some Crucial Points in
Psychoanalysis,” CW 4, par. 661.]

Jung believed that
analyzing the transference was extremely important in order to return projected
contents necessary for the individuation of the analysand. But he pointed out
that even after projections have been withdrawn there remains a strong
connection between the two parties. This is because of an instinctive factor
that has few outlets in modern society: kinship libido.

Everyone is now a
stranger among strangers. Kinship libido-which could still engender a
satisfying feeling of belonging together, as for instance in the early
Christian communities-has long been deprived of its object. But, being an
instinct, it is not to be satisfied by any mere substitute such as a creed,
party, nation, or state. It wants the human connection. That is the core of the
whole transference phenomenon, and it is impossible to argue it away, because
relationship to the self is at once relationship to our fellow man, and no one
can be related to the latter until he is related to himself.[“The
Psychology of the Transference,” CW 16, par. 445.]

Transformation. See rebirth.

Trauma. An intense emotional shock,
often accompanied by re-pression and a splitting of the personality. (See abreaction).

Treasure hard to
a reference to aspects of self-knowledge necessary for psychological individuality;
specifically, a metaphor for the goal of individuation, a good working
relationship with the self.

Trickster. Psychologically, descriptive of
unconscious shadow tendencies of an ambivalent, mercurial nature.

[The trickster] is a
forerunner of the saviour . . . . He is both subhuman and superhuman, a bestial
and divine being, whose chief and most alarming characteristic is his
unconsciousness.[“On the Psychology of the Trickster-Figure,” CW 9i,
par. 472],

The so-called
civilized man has forgotten the trickster. He remembers him only figuratively
and metaphorically, when, irritated by his own ineptitude, he speaks of fate
playing tricks on him or of things being bewitched. He never suspects that his
own hidden and apparently harmless shadow has qualities whose dangerousness
exceeds his wildest dreams.[ Ibid., par. 478.]

Type. A characteristic general attitude
or function.

[The] function-types,
which one can call the thinking, feeling, sensation, and intuitive types, may
be divided into two classes according to the quality of the basic function,
i.e., into the rational and the irrational. The thinking and feeling types
belong to the former class, the sensation and intuitive types to the latter. A
further division into two classes is permitted by the predominant trend of the
movement of libido, namely introversion and
extraversion.[“Definitions,” CW 6, par. 835.]

Jung believed that the
early distortion of type due to parental or other environmental influences can
lead to neurosis in later life.

As a rule, whenever
such a falsification of type takes place . . . the individual becomes neurotic
later, and can be cured only by developing the attitude consonant with his
nature.[“General Description of the Types,” ibid., par. 560.]

Typology. A system in which individual
attitudes and behavior patterns are categorized in an attempt to explain the
differences between people.

Jung’s model of typology grew out of an extensive historical review of the type
question in literature, mythology, aesthetics, philosophy and psychopathology.
Whereas earlier classifications were based on observations of temperamental or
physiological behavior patterns, Jung’s model is concerned with the movement of
energy and the way in which one habitually or preferentially orients oneself in
the world.

First and foremost, it
is a critical tool for the research worker, who needs definite points of view
and guidelines if he is to reduce the chaotic profusion of individual
experiences to any kind of order. . . . Secondly, a typology is a great help in
understanding the wide variations that occur among individuals, and it also
furnishes a clue to the fundamental differences in the psychological theories
now current. Last but not least, it is an essential means for determining the
“personal equation” of the practising psychologist, who, armed with
an exact knowledge of his differentiated and inferior functions, can avoid many
serious blunders in dealing with his patients.[“Psychological
Typology,” ibid., par. 986.]

Jung differentiated eight
typological groups: two personality attitudes-introversion and extraversion-and
four functions-thinking, sensation, intuition and feeling, each of which may operate
in an introverted or extraverted way.

Introversion and extraversion are psychological modes of adaptation. In the
former, the movement of energy is toward the inner world. In the latter,
interest is directed toward the outer world. In one case the subject (inner
reality) and in the other the object (things and other people, outer reality)
is of primary importance.

[Introversion] is
normally characterized by a hesitant, reflective, retiring nature that keeps
itself to itself, shrinks from objects, is always slightly on the defensive and
prefers to hide behind mistrustful scru-tiny. [Extraversion] is normally
characterized by an outgoing, candid, and accommodating nature that adapts
easily to a given situation, quickly forms attachments, and, setting aside any
possible misgivings, will often venture forth with careless confidence into
unknown situations. In the first case obviously the subject, and in the second
the object, is all-important.[“The Problem of the Attitude-Type,” CW
7, par. 62. ]

The crucial factor in
determining whether one is introverted or extraverted, as opposed to which
attitude is currently operative, is not what one does but rather the motivation
for doing it-the direction in which one’s energy naturally, and usually, flows.

Whether a person is predominantly introverted or extraverted only becomes
apparent in association with one of the four functions, each with its special
area of expertise: thinking refers to the process of cognitive thought,
sensation is perception by means of the physical sense organs, feeling is the
function of subjective judgment or valuation, and intuition refers to
perception via the unconscious.

Briefly, the sensation function establishes that something exists, thinking
tells us what it means, feeling tells us what it’s worth, and through intuition
we have a sense of its possibilities.

In this way we can
orient ourselves with respect to the immediate world as completely as when we
locate a place geographically by latitude and longitude. The four functions are
somewhat like the four points of the compass; they are just as arbitrary and
just as indispen-sable. Nothing prevents our shifting the cardinal points as
many degrees as we like in one direction or the other, or giving them
differ-ent names. It is merely a question of convention and intelligibility.
But one thing I must confess: I would not for anything dispense with this
compass on my psychological voyages of discovery.[“A Psychological Theory
of Types,” CW 6, pars. 958f.]ß

Jung’s basic model,
including the relationship between the four functions, is a quaternity, as
shown in the diagram. (Thinking is here arbitrarily placed at the top; any of
the other functions might be placed there, according to which one a person most

Four Types 

Jung believed that any
one function by itself is not sufficient for ordering our experience of
ourselves or the world around us; all four are required for a comprehensive understanding.

For complete
orientation all four functions should contribute equally: thinking should
facilitate cognition and judgment, feeling should tell us how and to what
extent a thing is important or unimportant for us, sensation should convey
concrete reality to us through seeing, hearing, tasting, etc., and intuition
should enable us to divine the hidden possibilities in the background, since
these too belong to the complete picture of a given situation.[Psychological
Types,” ibid., par. 900.] Jung acknowledged that the four orienting
functions do not contain everything in the conscious psyche. Will power and
memory, for instance, are not included, because although they may be affected
by the way one functions typologically, they are not in themselves typological

The ideal is to have
conscious access to the function or functions appropriate for particular
circumstances, but in practice the four functions are not equally at the
disposal of consciousness. One is invariably more differentiated, called the
superior or primary function. The function opposite to the primary function is
called the fourth or inferior function.

The terms “superior” and “inferior” in this context do not
imply value judgments. No function is any better than any of the others. The
superior function is simply the most developed, the one a person is most likely
to use; similarly, inferior does not mean pathological but merely less used
compared to the favored function. Moreover, the constant influx of unconscious
contents into consciousness is such that it is often difficult for oneself, let
alone an outside observer, to tell which functions belong to the conscious
personality and which to the unconscious.

Generally speaking, a
judging observer [thinking or feeling type] will tend to seize on the conscious
character, while a perceptive observer [sensation type or intuitive] will be
more influenced by the unconscious character, since judgment is chiefly
concerned with the conscious motivation of the psychic process, while
perception registers the process itself.[“General Description of the
Types,” ibid., par. 576.]

What happens to those
functions that are not consciously brought into daily use and therefore not

They remain in a more
or less primitive and infantile state, often only half conscious, or even quite
unconscious. The relatively undeveloped functions constitute a specific
inferiority which is characteristic of each type and is an integral part of his
total character. The one-sided emphasis on thinking is always accompanied by an
inferiority of feeling, and differentiated sensation is injurious to intuition
and vice versa.[A Psychological Theory of Types,” ibid., par. 955.]

Jung described two of the
four functions as rational (or judging) and two as irrational (or perceiving).
Thinking, as a function of logical discrimination, is rational. So is feeling,
which as a way of evaluating our likes and dislikes can be quite as
discriminating as thinking. Both are based on a reflective, linear process that
coalesces into a particular judgment. Sensation and intuition are called
irrational functions because they do not depend on logic. Each is a way of
perceiving simply what is: sensation sees what is in the external world,
intuition sees (or “picks up”) what is in the inner world.

Besides the primary function, there is often a second, and sometimes a third,
auxiliary function that exerts a co-determining influence on consciousness.
This is always one whose nature, rational or irrational, is different from the
primary function.

Four Functions 

Jung’s model of typology
is the basis for modern type tests, such as the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator
(MBTI) and the Singer-Loomis Personality Profile, used in organizational

Unconscious. The totality of all psychic
phenomena that lack the quality of consciousness. (See also collective
and personal unconscious.)

The unconscious . . .
is the source of the instinctual forces of the psyche and of the forms or
categories that regulate them, namely the archetypes.[The Structure of the
Psyche,” CW 8, par. 342.]

The concept of the unconscious
is for me an exclusively psychological concept, and not a philosophical
concept of a metaphysical nature. In my view the unconscious is a psychological
borderline concept, which covers all psychic contents or processes that are not
conscious, i.e., not related to the ego in any perceptible way. My
justification for speaking of the existence of unconscious processes at all is
derived simply and solely from experience.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 837.]

The unconscious is both
vast and inexhaustible. It is not simply the unknown or the repository of
conscious thoughts and emotions that have been repressed, but includes contents
that may or will become conscious.

So defined, the
unconscious depicts an extremely fluid state of affairs: everything of which I
know, but of which I am not at the moment thinking; everything of which I was
once conscious but have now forgotten; everything perceived by my senses, but
not noted by my conscious mind; everything which, involuntarily and without
paying attention to it, I feel, think, remember, want, and do; all the future
things that are taking shape in me and will sometime come to consciousness: all
this is the content of the unconscious.[On the Nature of the Psyche,” CW
8, par. 382.]

The unconscious also
contains “psychoid” functions that are not capable of consciousness
and of which we have only indirect knowledge, such as the relationship between
matter and spirit.
Whenever the unconscious becomes overactive, it comes to light in symptoms that
paralyze conscious action. This is likely to happen when unconscious factors
are ignored or repressed.

The demands of the
unconscious then force themselves imperiously on consciousness and bring about
a disastrous split which shows itself in one of two ways: either the subject no
longer knows what he really wants and nothing interests him, or he wants too
much at once and has too many interests, but in impossible things.[General
Description of the Types,” CW 6, par. 573.

In general, the
compensating attitude of the unconscious works to maintain psychic equilibrium.

The unconscious
processes that compensate the conscious ego contain all those elements that are
necessary for the self-regulation of the psyche as a whole. On the personal
level, these are the not consciously recognized personal motives which appear
in dreams, or the meanings of daily situations which we have overlooked, or
conclusions we have failed to draw, or affects we have not permitted, or
criticisms we have spared ourselves.[The Function of the Unconscious,” CW
7, par. 275.]

In terms of typology, the
unconscious manifests through the opposite attitude and the less developed
functions. In the extravert, the unconscious has a subjective coloring and an
egocentric bias; in the introvert, it can appear as a compulsive tie to persons
and things in the outside world.

Jung attributed to the unconscious a creative function, in that it presents to
consciousness contents necessary for psychological health. It is not, however,
superior to consciousness; its messages (in dreams, impulses, etc.) must always
be mediated by the ego.

The unconscious is
useless without the human mind. It always seeks its collective purposes and
never your individual destiny. [C.G. Jung Letters, vol. 1, p. 283.]

Consciousness should
defend its reason and protect itself, and the chaotic life of the unconscious
should be given the chance of having its way too–as much of it as we can
stand. This means open conflict and open collaboration at once. That,
evidently, is the way human life should be. It is the old game of hammer and
anvil: between them the patient iron is forged into an indestructible whole, an
“individual.”[Conscious, Unconscious, and Individuation,” CW 9i,
par. 522.]

Unconsciousness. A state of psychic functioning
marked by lack of control over the instincts and identification with complexes.

Unconsciousness is the
primal sin, evil itself, for the Logos.[“Psychological Aspects of the
Mother Archetype,” ibid., par. 178.]

An extreme state of
unconsciousness is characterized by the predominance of compulsive instinctual
processes, the result of which is either uncontrolled inhibition or a lack of
inhibition throughout. The happenings within the psyche are then contradictory
and proceed in terms of alternating, non-logical antitheses. In such a case the
level of consciousness is essentially that of a dream-state. A high degree of consciousness,
on the other hand, is characterized by a heightened awareness, a preponderance
of will, directed, rational behaviour, and an almost total absence of
instinctual determinants. The unconscious is then found to be at a definitely
animal level. The first state is lacking in intellectual and ethical
achievement, the second lacks naturalness.[“Psychological Factors in Human
Behaviour,” CW 8, par. 249.]

The greatest danger
about unconsciousness is proneness to suggestion. The effect of suggestion is
due to the release of an unconscious dynamic, and the more unconscious this is,
the more effective it will be. Hence the ever-widening split between conscious
and unconscious increases the danger of psychic infection and mass
psychosis.[The Structure and Dynamics of the Self,” CW 9ii, par. 390.]

Union of opposites. See opposites.

Unus mundus. See coniunctio.

Wholeness. A state in which consciousness
and the unconscious work together in harmony. (See also self.)

“wholeness” seems at first sight to be nothing but an abstract idea
(like anima and animus), it is nevertheless empirical in so far as it is
anticipated by the psyche in the form of spontaneous or autonomous symbols.
These are the quaternity or mandala symbols, which occur not only in the dreams
of modern people who have never heard of them, but are widely disseminated in
the historical records of many peoples and many epochs. Their significance as symbols
of unity and totality
is amply confirmed by history as well as by empirical
psychology.[The Self,” ibid., par. 59.]

In terms of
individuation, where the goal is a vital connection with the self, Jung
contrasted wholeness with the conflicting desire to become perfect.

The realization of the
self, which would logically follow from a recognition of its supremacy, leads
to a fundamental conflict, to a real suspension between opposites (reminiscent
of the crucified Christ hanging between two thieves), and to an approximate
state of wholeness that lacks perfection. . . . The individual may strive after
perfection . . . but must suffer from the opposite of his intentions for the
sake of his completeness.[“Christ, A Symbol of the Self,” ibid., par.

Will. The amount of psychic energy or
libido at the disposal of consciousness, implying some control over instinct.

The will is a
psychological phenomenon that owes its existence to culture and moral
education, but is largely lacking in the primitive
mentality.[Definitions,” CW 6, par. 844.]

Wise old man. An archetypal image of meaning
and wisdom. In Jung’s terminology, the wise old man is a personification of the
masculine spirit. In a man’s psychology, the anima is related to the wise old
man as daughter to father. In a woman, the wise old man is an aspect of the
animus. The feminine equivalent in both men and women is the Great Mother.

The figure of the wise
old man can appear so plastically, not only in dreams but also in visionary
meditation (or what we call “active imagination”), that . . . it
takes over the role of a guru. The wise old man appears in dreams in the guise
of a magician, doctor, priest, teacher, professor, grandfather, or any person
possessing authority.[“The Phenomenology of the Spirit in
Fairytales,” CW 9i, par. 398.]

Word Association
. A
test devised by Jung to show the reality and autonomy of unconscious complexes.

Our conscious
intentions and actions are often frustrated by unconscious processes whose very
existence is a continual surprise to us. We make slips of the tongue and slips
in writing and unconsciously do things that betray our most closely guarded
secrets-which are sometimes unknown even to ourselves. . . . These phenomena
can . . . be demonstrated experimentally by the association tests, which are
very useful for finding out things that people cannot or will not speak
about.[The Structure of the Psyche,” CW 8, par. 296.]

The Word Association
Experiment consists of a list of one hundred words, to which one is asked to
give an immediate association. The person conducting the experiment measures
the delay in response with a stop watch. This is repeated a second time, noting
any different responses. Finally the subject is asked for comments on those
words to which there were a longer-than-average response time, a merely
mechanical response, or a different association on the second run-through; all
these are marked by the questioner as “complex indicators” and then
discussed with the subject.
The result is a “map” of the personal complexes, valuable both for
self-understanding and in recognizing disruptive factors that commonly bedevil

What happens in the
association test also happens in every discussion between two people. . . . The
discussion loses its objective character and its real purpose, since the
constellated complexes frustrate the intentions of the speakers and may even
put answers into their mouths which they can no longer remember afterwards.[A
Review of the Complex Theory,” ibid., par. 199.]

Wounded Healer. An archetypal dynamic that may
be constellated in an analytic relationship.

This term derives from the legend of Asclepius, a Greek doctor who in
recognition of his own wounds established a sanctuary at Epidaurus where others
could be healed of theirs.
Those seeking to be cured went through a process called incubation. First they
had a cleansing bath, thought to have a purifying effect on the soul as well as
the body. Uncontaminated by the body, the soul was free to commune with the
gods. After preliminary sacrificial offerings, the incubants lay on a couch and
went to sleep. If they were lucky, they had a healing dream; if they were
luckier, a snake came in the night and bit them.

The wounded healer archetype can be schematized by a variation of the diagram
used by Jung to illustrate the lines of communication in a relationship.[See
“The Psychology of the Transference,” The Practice of Psychother-apy,
CW 16, par. 422.

Wounded Healer

The drawing shows six
double-headed arrows, indicating that communication can move in either
direction-twelve ways in which information can pass between analyst and

According to this
paradigm, the analyst’s wounds, although presumed to be relatively conscious
after a lengthy personal analysis, live a shadowy existence. They can always be
reconstellated in particular situations, and especially when working with
someone whose wounds are similar. (They are the basis for countertransference
reactions in analysis.)

Meanwhile, the wounded analysand’s inner healer is in the shadow but
potentially available. The analysand’s wounds activate those of the analyst.
The analyst reacts, identifies what is happening and in one way or another,
consciously or unconsciously, passes this awareness back to the analysand.
In this model, the unconscious relationship between analyst and analysand is
quite as important, in terms of the healing process, as what is consciously
communicated. There are two other significant implications:

1) Healing can take place only if the analyst has an ongoing relationship with
the unconscious. Otherwise, he or she may identify with the healer archetype, a
common form of inflation.

2) Depth psychology is a dangerous profession, since the analyst is forever
prone to being infected by the other’s wounds-or having his or her wounds

No analysis is capable
of banishing all unconsciousness for ever. The analyst must go on learning
endlessly, and never forget that each new case brings new problems to light and
thus gives rise to unconscious assumptions that have never before been
constellated. We could say, without too much exaggeration, that a good half of
every treatment that probes at all deeply consists in the doctor’s examining
himself, for only what he can put right in himself can he hope to put right in
the patient. It is no loss, either, if he feels that the patient is hitting
him, or even scoring off him: it is his own hurt that gives the measure of his
power to heal. This, and nothing else, is the meaning of the Greek myth of the
wounded physician. [“Fundamental Questions of Psychotherapy,” ibid.
para. 239.]


The Collected Works of
C.G. Jung.
vols. Bollingen Series XX, translated by R.F.C. Hull, edited
by H. Read, M. Fordham, G. Adler, and Wm. McGuire. Princeton University Press,

The names of the
individual volumes are as follows:

1. Psychiatric Studies
2. Experimental Researches
3. The Psychogenesis of Mental Disease
4. Freud and Psychoanalysis
5. Symbols of Transformation
6. Psychological Types
7. Two Essays on Analytical Psychology
8. The Structure and Dynamics of the Psyche
9i. The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious
9ii. Aion: Researches into the Phenomenology of the Self
10. Civilization in Transition
11. Psychology and Religion: West and East
12. Psychology and Alchemy
13. Alchemical Studies
14. Mysterium Coniunctionis
15. The Spirit in Man, Art, and Literature
16. The Practice of Psychotherapy
17. The Development of Personality
18. The Symbolic Life: Miscellaneous Writings
19. General Bibliography of Jung’s Writings
20. General Index

C.G. Jung Letters. Bollingen Series XCV. 2 vols. Ed.
Gerhard Adler and Aniela
Jaffé.Trans.R.F.C.Hull. Princeton University Press, Prince-ton, 1973.

Memories, Dreams,
Aniela Jaffé. Pantheon Books, New York, 1961.

The Freud/Jung Letters. Bollingen Series XCIV. Ed.
William McGuire. Trans. Ralph Manheim and
R.F.C. Hull. Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1974.

Zarathustra: Notes of the Seminar Given in 1934-1939.
Bollingen Series XCIX. 2 vols.
Ed. James L. Jarrett. Princeton Univer-sity Press, 1988.