Consciousness and the Problem of the Shadow - The House of the Gathering

[David Guyatt]

From carljungdepthpyschology.blogspot.co.uk

Friday, February 24, 2012

Consciousness & The Problem of the Shadow

JUNGIAN DREAMWORK SERIES by Written by Andy Drymalski, EdD |

In his early twenties Carl Jung had the following dream. "It was night in some unknown place, and I was making slow and painful headway against a mighty wind. Dense fog was flying along everywhere. I had my hands cupped around a tiny light which threatened to go out at any moment. Everything depended upon my keeping this little light alive. Suddenly I had the feeling that something was coming up behind me. I looked back, and saw a gigantic black figure following me. But at the same time I was conscious, in spite of my terror, that I must keep my little light going through night and wind, regardless of all dangers."

This fascinating dream highlights some important characteristics of the psyche. We all have a "little light," the light of consciousness. Our consciousness is the awareness and understanding that we bring to the world around us, and the world within us. The brighter your light, the more deeply your understanding penetrates and illuminates your world. Like light beams shone into the waters of a lake, our insight may extend just a few inches into the unconscious or a considerable distance further. Regardless of its brightness, Jung believed that our understanding is our greatest treasure.

The dream also suggests that consciousness, like life itself, is fragile. Perhaps more so, for it is possible for a human being to live a long life having developed very little consciousness whatsoever. Consciousness should not be confused with intelligence or book learning. A person can be quite knowledgeableeven an experton any number of subjects, yet remain remarkably unconscious regarding the underlying forces which motivate his behavior and impact his world. From a Jungian perspective, the avoidance of consciousness is a major component behind most mental illness. Addictive and compulsive behaviors, for example, usually serve as an escape from thoughts or feelings we don't want to be conscious of.

Jung recognized that the dark figure behind him was his own shadow on the swirling mists, brought into being by his little light. In the development of the personality we embrace and identify with some aspects of our nature and reject others. What we choose to integrate becomes part of our persona and ego identity. What we reject becomes part of our shadow. In reality, however, we are never free of our other half, our disowned self. And what we do not come to terms with in our self is projected upon the "screen" of our outer world and relationships. This is what is meant by the term "projection." In projection we react to elements of our own psychology encountered in the behavior of other people. For example, if I am lazy but believe myself to be just as hard-working as the next person, then my laziness and the attitudes that support it are denied and disowned. Although it may be apparent to everyone else that I am lazy, my laziness is outside my conscious awareness, and so dwells in the shadow of my unconscious. In my dreams I may encounter a friend of mine who I think is lazy. In the dream he is a symbol of my own laziness. In outer life I may criticize him for his laziness. In fact, I may be acutely sensitive to his sluggard behavior and more annoyed by him than other people are. My strong reaction to his laziness arises from the fact that I am projecting my shadow onto him. There is a part of me that is fed up with my own laziness, but I am unconscious of this. I externalize my anger in much the same way that I project my laziness. I berate my friend instead of turning a more critical eye upon myself.

We can project both positive and negative aspects of our disowned self onto other people. For example, when we fall in love we typically project our soul onto our beloved. Our other is irresistible partly because we have projected onto them our own "gold," the positive attributes of our other half. In our society, men have tended to project their capacity for feeling and nurturance onto women. Women, on the other hand, have tended to project their courage, strength, and heroism onto men. It is human nature to discover aspects of our self in other people before we discover them in our self. But in time the honeymoon ends, the projection collapses, and we wake up wondering who this person is in bed next to us. It is at this time that the opportunity for a more authentic relationship begins. We can now begin to know our partner in a more human light, and develop those attributes of our self we had formerly projected.
It is often the case that the person or situation on whom we project our disowned attributes possesses them to some degree as well. Their behaviors or attitudes provide the "hook" onto which we hang our projection. (So, the next time you call someone a "moron," and they fire back, "You're projecting," it may be legitimate to respond, "Well, I probably am projecting, but you're still a moron.") Humor aside, projection offers the opportunity for us to learn about ourselves. Our responses to other people and life events provide a mirror into our own unconscious. In the process of withdrawing our projections we are able to reclaim and develop parts of our personality that will make us more complete, whole, and conscious people.

Regarding the encounter with one's shadow, Jung wrote: "If you imagine someone who is brave enough to withdraw all his projections, then you get an individual who is conscious of a pretty thick shadow. Such a man has saddled himself with new problems and conflicts. He has become a serious problem to himself, as he is now unable to say that they do this or that, they are wrong, and they must be fought against. He lives in the House of the Gathering.' Such a man knows that whatever is wrong in the world is in himself, and if he only learns to deal with his own shadow he has done something real for the world. He has succeeded in shouldering at least an infinitesimal part of the gigantic, unsolved social problems of our day."

As the new year dawns, so may the opportunity for a new level of consciousness in your life. So when you see your shadow beside you on a cold winter day, invite him inside, pour him some hot chocolate, and let him tell you about life on the other side of your world. Perhaps it has been a long time since he felt the warmth of your attentive gaze.

References:

1. Jung, C.G. Memories, Dreams, Reflections. Random House, Inc., NY 1963.
2. Jung, C.G. CW 11: Psychology and Religion, translated by R.F.C. Hull. Princeton University Press, Princeton, NJ 1977.
3. Sanford, John A. The Strange Trial of Mr. Hyde: A New Look at the Nature of Human Evil. Harper & Row, San Francisco 1987.
For more info contact Dr. Andy Drymalski, Reno psychologist at (775) 786-3818.

[James Ruby]

I have as much respect for CGJ as I have contempt for his erstwhile mate Sickmind Fraud. But something jarred for me in the aforementioned 'Memories, Dreams, Reflections'. Early on in the book I'm sure I remember him recounting a dream about seeing various boys or peoples faces and then gravely announcing that some of these were soon to die... I didn't buy it. It seemed too much of a gratuitous egg-splash in a little pudding, an unnecessary hint of supernatural drama, in short, bollocks.

Sort of made me think as I carried on: 'Do I entirely trust his words? If I embellish my dreams, why and for whom*?'

But I'm on your side Mr. Guyatt; even if it's only allegory, it's some of the best we've got.

* Don't bother David...

[Lauren Johnson]

Thanks for putting article up, David. It made me more mindful of my dreams. I gotta tell ya'll about my dream last night.

This huge native American man approached me with a big smile on his face -- pretty much a copy of Chief in Cuckoo's Nest. He gives me a big bear hug, because he had beat the crap out of someone finally and it felt so good. Somehow I got credit because I had been his friend. He's walking around dragging me like his teddy bear explaining the situation. I say, "Gee, you must feel great" while I am thinking he could snap my neck like a pencil.

Talk about a Shadow dream.

[Drew Phipps]

If I was called to analyze this dream, I would speculate that some part of you might be wondering whether or not to be afraid of the pent-up ("finally") forces that might be unleashed ("beat someone up") upon the revelation of certain facts or truths about America ("native American chief") by virtue of your ("friend" "credit") contributions, perhaps on this website.

Or, perhaps I am just projecting my own worries, to which I freely admit.

Jung might argue that, as Americans, we collectively consign our fears and worries about what might underlie the bright and friendly country that we wish to inhabit to our "unconscious", creating a dangerous collective "shadow."

[David Guyatt]

I have as much respect for CGJ as I have contempt for his erstwhile mate Sickmind Fraud. But something jarred for me in the aforementioned 'Memories, Dreams, Reflections'. Early on in the book I'm sure I remember him recounting a dream about seeing various boys or peoples faces and then gravely announcing that some of these were soon to die... I didn't buy it. It seemed too much of a gratuitous egg-splash in a little pudding, an unnecessary hint of supernatural drama, in short, bollocks.

Sort of made me think as I carried on: 'Do I entirely trust his words? If I embellish my dreams, why and for whom*?'

But I'm on your side Mr. Guyatt; even if it's only allegory, it's some of the best we've got.

* Don't bother David...

James, thanks for your post. I don't know the quote you mention and I have read almost everything Jung wrote - although many of his lectures still remain unpublished. But then my memory isn't what it once was, so that's probably why.

Anyway, I don't believe Jung was in the slightest bit interested in gratuitousness or exaggeration like this. He talked about what he experienced and knew. He was also a man who had many powerful and telling visions (his book "Memories, Dreams and Reflections" is a very good source for this btw), and these days there are some practising Jungians who pooh-pooh this side of his school of psychology - believing it to be a mystic illusion.

Personally, I unequivocally accept he had incredibly powerful visions, dreams and what he termed as "active imagination" journeys (although this description miserably fails to convey the immensity of experiences that can occur). I believe him because I've been there, and done that, and got the scars. When you consciously get in contact with the deeper levels of the unconscious, an entirely different stream of knowledge, reality and understanding take place. It's a place of en entirely different order of existence and being.

Let me give you an example of what I mean. Once, during a meditative active imagination foray into the timeless spaces (many years ago) I was shown a book of my life. Very clearly btw. I was completely in the instant and instantly knew it contained every minute detail, experience and event of my life. On the front was my name, my date of birth and... at the bottom my date of death. I consciously and quickly averted my eyes from that last part. I didn't want to know that particular date as I was concerned that this bit of knowledge would alter my life path.

Who was I kidding I now wonder?

Because obviously that decision was already written in that book.

Of course, many will say this is utter nonsense, and I cannot counter them or prove them wrong. But I lived that moment of timelessness and other people's disbelief will never rob me of that experience and the absolute knowledge that accompanied it. Rational thinking has it's place in our world, but it is not an attribute that exists outside of other non-rational abilities. Or rather it shouldn't be allowed to dominate us. But sadly it does tend to dominate us and that's one of the important problems we face today.

Reality has many dimensions and they all have something to gift us.

[David Guyatt]

Thanks for putting article up, David. It made me more mindful of my dreams. I gotta tell ya'll about my dream last night.

This huge native American man approached me with a big smile on his face -- pretty much a copy of Chief in Cuckoo's Nest. He gives me a big bear hug, because he had beat the crap out of someone finally and it felt so good. Somehow I got credit because I had been his friend. He's walking around dragging me like his teddy bear explaining the situation. I say, "Gee, you must feel great" while I am thinking he could snap my neck like a pencil.

Talk about a Shadow dream.

A really nice dream Lauren, I think. I liked Chief in Cuckoo's Nest. He became a grounded and free man because of the example of McMurphy. It was a great film, I think, and one of Nicholson's best imo.

What do I know, but I would mark him down as a very positive figure - and although immensely strong, a real gentle man. I think you must've woken up feeling good about that dream.

The shadow, generally speaking is simply dark, bloody and fucking awful. Scary, mean and devious. Or whatever you need compensating about. One of my shadow figures 20 years ago was, yes, Pablo Escobar. I shit you not. It took a long time for me to figure that one out -- but finally I did. Throughout my entire life I have shunned drugs - other than a few drags on a spliff later in life. Friends who were serious drug users mainlining heroin when I was a lot younger, used to call me the "preacher" - which speaks volumes, eh.

What Pablo was telling me was that I had drifted too far into a righteous attitude about drugs and was nudging me to swing back into a more balanced perspective.

[David Guyatt]

If I was called to analyze this dream, I would speculate that some part of you might be wondering whether or not to be afraid of the pent-up ("finally") forces that might be unleashed ("beat someone up") upon the revelation of certain facts or truths about America ("native American chief") by virtue of your ("friend" "credit") contributions, perhaps on this website.

I can see that Drew.

For me, "Chief" represents a character who was closer to nature and closer to his instinctual side, a gentle giant who was subjugated but who ultimately broke free. I suppose we are all a little afraid of our instincts and ignore nature far more than we should. And both are immensely powerful, as was "Chief". They're not to be ignored. And if they turn against us we're toast. But if we let them lead us by the hand and listen to them, they'll bring us to a clearer understanding of our real nature and purpose.

Jung might argue that, as Americans, we collectively consign our fears and worries about what might underlie the bright and friendly country that we wish to inhabit to our "unconscious", creating a dangerous collective "shadow."

Jung spent time with the Pueblo Indians/ Navajo's and had a great sympathy and fondness for their ways. I believe I'm right in saying that his real fear for America was the business shadow, and how individuals would succour to becoming 'company men' and lose themselves.

Nail, head, hammer for me.

[Lauren Johnson]

Thanks for putting article up, David. It made me more mindful of my dreams. I gotta tell ya'll about my dream last night.

This huge native American man approached me with a big smile on his face -- pretty much a copy of Chief in Cuckoo's Nest. He gives me a big bear hug, because he had beat the crap out of someone finally and it felt so good. Somehow I got credit because I had been his friend. He's walking around dragging me like his teddy bear explaining the situation. I say, "Gee, you must feel great" while I am thinking he could snap my neck like a pencil.

Talk about a Shadow dream.

A really nice dream Lauren, I think. I liked Chief in Cuckoo's Nest. He became a grounded and free man because of the example of McMurphy. It was a great film, I think, and one of Nicholson's best imo.

What do I know, but I would mark him down as a very positive figure - and although immensely strong, a real gentle man. I think you must've woken up feeling good about that dream.

The shadow, generally speaking is simply dark, bloody and fucking awful. Scary, mean and devious. Or whatever you need compensating about. One of my shadow figures 20 years ago was, yes, Pablo Escobar. I shit you not. It took a long time for me to figure that one out -- but finally I did. Throughout my entire life I have shunned drugs - other than a few drags on a spliff later in life. Friends who were serious drug users mainlining heroin when I was a lot younger, used to call me the "preacher" - which speaks volumes, eh.

What Pablo was telling me was that I had drifted too far into a righteous attitude about drugs and was nudging me to swing back into a more balanced perspective.

Actually, I woke up relieved. He was so powerful and strong and had me smashed against his body like a two year old walking around with a kitten by the neck. I think there is a message of balance in there somehow. Chief is a wonderful figure for sure.

[Lauren Johnson]

If I was called to analyze this dream, I would speculate that some part of you might be wondering whether or not to be afraid of the pent-up ("finally") forces that might be unleashed ("beat someone up") upon the revelation of certain facts or truths about America ("native American chief") by virtue of your ("friend" "credit") contributions, perhaps on this website.

Hi Drew. Didn't see your response. My Gmail puts all my email notifications in the Trash. Irritating. I don't know how to fix it. Suggestions, anyone?

Actually, I think the dream might have to do with speaking out about deep political matters more than just here. It hasn't been welcomed very much. It has been easier to hide here at DPF. But putting stuff on Facebook that presents the POV on the NATO War on Russia, etc. is not welcomed. I can feel the unconscious darkness coming towards us and worse yet, liberals either engaging in willful ignorance or embracing it. And we don't have a Jack Kennedy to provide wisdom and courage. In my circle of friends and relatives, I feel alone. But it feels good to speak out. That's the joy that Chief in my dream experienced.

David, with regards to your comment, if I were in therapy like I was 35+ years ago, dreams would be essential parts of it like they were back then. I found that interpreting them in the context of therapy was essential. The things I most needed to hear from the dream were the ones I resisted or suppressed. It is indeed such hard work to engage the shadow or other elements.

Regarding the COLLECTIVE UNCONSCIOUS [EDIT: rereading, this should be COLLECTIVE SHADOW], that concept was always just purely an abstraction, something only CGJ would think about, but surely not possible to experience for us mere mortals. Not any more. My experience, encountering the collective unconscious was worse -- a nightmarish experience.

After my wife had died 15 years ago, I was pretty much road kill. I quit my job and went to Central America three times: first, with a church group twice and then to Guatemala alone. By the time I had returned the third time, I was hallucinating a waking nightmare. If I closed my eyes, I found myself in a dark forest with dried leaves on the forest floor. I could hear a beast of some hideous sort crunching through the leaves searching for people to eat. I finally realized I could read its mind. It hated everything that was good and intended to make sure the planet was devoid of life knowing full well that would be the end of its existence. The beast's only comfort was that it had decimated the creation.

Finally, I realized it knew where I was even in that pitch black darkness. It's thoughts were "I'm fattening you up. I will kill and eat the wretched of the earth. Then I will come for you and your ilk. I am so looking forward to that time."

The waking hallucination was only relieved by sleep and finally it ended all together, but not before I was convinced I was truly slipping into a madness from which there would be no return. It was quite unnerving.

Finally, to interpret this hallucination as my experiencing merely my own unconscious would just not do it justice. I knew and know now that I was experiencing the darkness of the world that I was trained to see -- the collective unconscious of the West.

My favorite film which describes the experience of coming into consciousness is The Matrix and specifically the Red Pill scene. I got the chills just re-watching this scene even now. Cheers.

[video=youtube_share;A9vGMMPM5Lg]http://youtu.be/A9vGMMPM5Lg[/video]

[James Ruby]

David, thank you for your typically gracious reply. The incident I referred to occurs in the first thirty or so pages of 'M,D, R' but my copy is 200 miles away unfortunately. Anyway, it was just a slight carping cavil about a rather wonderful man.

Does he ever refer to 'lucid dreams'? (a phenomenon which has enriched my life since childhood).

May I take this opportunity to thank all who contribute to this site; I may not have much to say but I certainly have a lot to learn and being here is a great help (I've been reading DPF for a lot longer than my joining of it). There's a f***ing tsunami of a shadow looming behind us all and those that kindle a little light in this corner of our soi-disant collective conciousness are to be commended and hereby thanked.

And, if I do need an occasional fix of Phil Dragoo, I know which cyber street corner to hang about on in hope...