The following reflection was first published on my website in 2015. I have updated it slightly and made some minor changes.
I thought it would be a good time to revisit this post here, as it touches on the theme of vocation — Jung’s notion of the “life-task” — that I discussed in last week’s episode: Imagining One’s Proper Life-Task. It also gives me the chance to offer something on the theme of gratitude — just in time for the Thanksgiving holiday here in the United States.
And on that note, let me just add that I am grateful that you are here. I have received so many notes of encouragement from listeners to the podcast, including those who have let me know the ways that it has touched them personally. Thank you for all your kind messages. I look forward to continuing to grow this community together with you.
With all good wishes,
Jason
On Not Being Jung
Carl Jung was ambivalent about the idea of training institutes being established in his name. This ambivalence is amply reflected in a famous statement he is reported to have made. “Thank God I am Jung and not a Jungian,” he declared.
Now, this is not a very comforting sentiment for someone like me who identifies as a Jungian, who trained at a Jungian institute, and who has dedicated most of his adult life to the study and practice of Jungian Psychology. How can I reconcile having taken on the title of Jungian analyst when the great man himself seemed to be so disparaging of the idea?
In his attempt to cast some light on the phenomena of the psyche, Jung knew that he was investigating a great mystery, which he called “the densest darkness it is possible to imagine.” Presumably, his comment about the relative merits of being Jung versus being a Jungian point to his concern that his followers would become slavish imitators, forgoing the mystery and concretizing his concepts, effectively turning them into a kind of dogma.
Jung, it should be said, was also distrustful of groups and preferred to emphasize the importance of the individual. However, this distrust has the effect of thrusting all groups, including the family and the community, into the collective shadow. Furthermore, Jung’s statement opens up the possibility that the experience of being a Jungian will be colored by a sense of inferiority.
Certainly, the danger of imitation is very real. When I started training as an analyst, I had a cherished image of Jung — one that, in many ways, I sought to emulate by trying to read what Jung read and seek out similar visionary experiences to those that Jung experienced. I even considered starting to smoke a pipe and wear tweed jackets with patches on the elbows, just like Jung. And I was certainly not the first, nor the only, person to succumb to this temptation.
Given this danger, it seems to me that the real problem would not so much be in wanting to become a Jungian, but in wanting to be Jung. In light of this, I suggest a moratorium on this particular saying. For, while the statement may have been right for Jung to make for himself, for the rest of us it would actually be more correct to reverse it and to say: “Thank God I am a Jungian, and not Jung.”
Four Facets of Gratitude
Thank God I am a Jungian.
I truly feel a sense of gratitude to be a part of this profession and this tradition. And as I reflect on this feeling of gratitude, I discover that it has four facets to it. You see, it all depends on where you put the emphasis.
The first facet would be, “Thank ‘God’ I am a Jungian.” Jungian Psychology acknowledges that there is more at work in events than that of which we are conscious. The alchemists knew that the completion of their work could only succeed “Deo Concedente” — if God wills it.
Of course, you don’t have to use the word ‘God’ to describe this quality of life experience. You could say ‘Tao,’ for instance, or ‘Fortune.’ You could also call it ‘Life,’ or ‘Reality,’ or even ‘Great Mystery.’ In Jungian Psychology we refer to the Self. Thus I am grateful that this is the path that the Self has given me to walk, that for reasons unknown to me I was called to become a Jungian.
Hearing the Call and Following It
And this leads me to the second facet of my experience of gratitude. The emphasis at this level is “Thank God ‘I’ am a Jungian.” The promptings of the Self have to be made manifest in an actual lived life and I am glad for whatever it is in me that has allowed me not only to hear my calling, but to follow it.
Of course, ‘I’ is never simply ‘I,’ as we learn from the Buddhist concept of dependent origination, certain aspects of kenotic Christianity, Jewish spirituality and many other traditions.
There is no ‘I’ without a ‘Thou.’ And this, in turn, points to facets three and four.
Being and Becoming a Jungian
The emphasis for facet number three is, “Thank God I ‘Am’ a Jungian” – and by that I mean thank God I am past my years of training, of preparing, and am now established in my work as an analyst.
The process of training to be an analyst was a long and, at times, arduous process. That means, of course, that it was not only a trial for me as an analytic candidate, but that it placed a great burden upon my loved ones as well. I am so thankful for the support that I received from my family and friends as I traveled that long and winding road. That I finally am who and where I am is in no small part because of their love and support.
The idea of the “self-made” individual is, in my mind, a suspect one. None of us exists in a self-reliant bubble. Even without the support that I had around me, there would still have been my instructors, supervisors, and my own personal analysts who passed on to me their knowledge and wisdom. And beyond that there were and are the mentors who live on in the books that enlighten and enliven me — Marie-Louise von Franz, James Hillman, Joseph Campbell, Edward Edinger, not to mention Jung himself. To this list I would add the writings of Abraham Joshua Heschel, Raimon Panikkar, Evelyn Underhill, and so many others besides.
My own being and becoming a Jungian has been dependent on so many others to whom I cannot express my gratitude enough.
The Healing Power of Story
Finally, the fourth facet of gratitude is expressed by saying, “Thank God I am a ‘Jungian’.”
Thank God I am a Jungian, which is to say, thank god that this profession, this discipline exists. I am convinced that it is a profession that is desperately needed today. The world needs people who tend the human soul.
We live in a remarkable time. The technological advances of our world are more than we can possibly come to terms with, and they proceed so rapidly that we barely have time to catch our breath before the wheel of change turns once again and upends all we knew but a moment ago.
It is without doubt that the technological boom of our world has been incredibly successful in improving the ease and comfort of great numbers of people on this planet. But it is also true that that very success can prevent an encounter with our deepest selves and keep us from facing our own souls.
A world in which the lights are always on and the darkness has been banished; a world that is awash in information that is literally at our fingertips, but which cannot enter the cloud of unknowing where true wisdom dwells; a world in which we connect through selfies, but cannot connect with ourselves; a world in which everyone is talking all the time and where no one can sit still, which has grown allergic to the once healing experience of silence and stillness, like an auto-immune disease of the soul; such a world cannot experience the reality of the psyche and loses the vivifying experience of meaning.
In the beautiful novel Cutting For Stone, the writer Abraham Verghese puts the following words into the mouth of the main character, a surgeon who is estranged from his brother: “I have infinite faith in the craft of surgery, but no surgeon can heal the kind of wound that divides two brothers. Where silk and steel fail, story must succeed.”
That is the domain of the Jungian project — stories that heal, both the collective stories that have everywhere sustained human beings, and the personal stories that can bring healing to the lives of those undergoing a Jungian analysis. Medicine and technology—silk and steel—are of immeasurable value and importance in our lives, but there are some wounds, some pains, some sufferings that cannot be healed by medicine or technology. Where silk and steel fail, story must succeed.
Healing a Soul-Starved World
Story, image, and symbol are powerful things. They sustain and guide us. They can help us to contain and integrate the wounds of trauma and they give us forms into which our highest aspirations can flow. As Meister Eckhart once said, “When the soul wants to experience something she throws out an image in front of her and then steps into it.” That is the experience that Jungian analysis has the power to facilitate in our soul-starved world.
So I say, “Thank God I am a Jungian.” Thank god I am part of a community of people who speak out for the soul. And, yes, thank god for those first students who went ahead and founded the first Jungian institute, despite the master’s resistance. I wouldn’t be here without them.
The spirit of those early followers of Jung lives on. One of the ways in which it manifests is in the increasing online presence of Jungian Psychology, which is connecting people across the globe.
There is a growing availability of resources for people who are seeking to have a truly soulful experience. It is exciting to be a part of this new frontier of the Jungian community which includes podcasters like the folks at This Jungian Life, Laura London at Speaking of Jung, and Jakob Lusensky of Psychology and the Cross; it includes organizations such as the Depth Psychology Alliance, training platforms like the Jung Archademy, bloggers like Jean Raffa, Jungian oriented publishers such as Chiron Publications and Inner City Books, and so many others that I just don’t have the space and time to include here.
This is an amazing tradition to be a part of, and a wonderful community of which I am proud to be a member. It is a real privilege for me to be able to say, “I am a Jungian.”
To which I can only add, Thank God.
Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate.
Until next time.
And thank YOU Jason! I too am grateful that I ‘found’ Jung (or, perhaps, that Jungian thought found me).
I relate to his quote at the top in that I see him as an example (on how to explore life) rather than a religion (to be followed). Dipping into the Jung-themed Facebook groups it feels like many view him as a prophet - quoted or invoked without much context or reflection.
That’s why I’m also grateful that you highlighted the wider community of writers, podcasters and analysts supporting a greater awareness of his work. All have helped me personally and have a role to play.
I haven’t come across many problems (on an individual or a collective level) that can’t be solved or tackled without a necessary expansion of awareness or consciousness. Jung’s life task (IMO) serves that goal, which is why a greater appreciation of him is so needed.
Such a thoughtful post. Thank you for the list of sources included near the end!