3. The Naked Truth
During the seminar, part of the work around the image consisted of associations and discussions of its symbolic motifs. Much of this material was not preserved in the written version and is therefore omitted here. The same applies to the remaining Rosarium Philosophorum images discussed throughout the seminar.
He who would be initiated into this art and secret wisdom must put away vice and arrogance, and be devout, righteous, deep-witted, humane toward his fellows, of a cheerful countenance and a happy disposition, and respectful withal. Likewise, he must be an observer of the eternal secrets that are revealed to him. My son, above all I admonish thee to fear God, who seeth what manner of man thou art and in whom is help for the solitary, whosoever he may be. — CW 16, para. 450
…the opus demands not only intellectual and technical ability, as in the study and practice of modern chemistry; it is a moral as well as a psychological undertaking. — CW 16, para. 451
The picture is decidedly erotic. However, between the naked bodies of Sol and Luna appears the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove. In reality, erotic attraction contains within itself the possibility of spiritual development, provided the projection is recognized and assimilated. Only then does a real relationship become possible. This is the psychological basis of every erotic attraction.
Psychologically we can say that the situation has thrown off the conventional husk and developed into a stark encounter with reality, with no false veils or adornments. Man stands forth as he really is and shows what was hidden under the mask of conventional adaptation: the shadow. This is now raised to consciousness and integrated with the ego, which means a move in the direction of wholeness… The animal sphere of instinct, as well as the primitive archaic psyche, emerge into the zone of consciousness and can no longer be repressed by fictions and illusions. In this way man becomes himself the difficult problem… — CW 16, para. 452
Nakedness points to the disappearance of the persona. At this point in the analysis I confronted the client and said that if his paranoia continued, I would no longer be able to work with him. This was a reality check for him, but also for me. From that moment on, he became aware that she too had something at stake and that, if he wanted the analysis to continue, he would have to keep his projections in check. I also learned that boundaries sometimes need to be adjusted according to the patient one is working with.
The clothes were off and the emotional contents came to the foreground. At the same time, the situation implied the possibility of a union in spirit. The client asked me how we could continue if she did not trust me. I answered that we could not, but that if trust was the central problem, then we had to continue in spite of its absence.
It was here that a kind of union in spirit was achieved despite the emotional contents that had been constellated. By this I do not mean emotional agreement or mutual trust, but a shared recognition that the analytical work itself had to continue despite the tension and uncertainty between us. This did not resolve the situation, but it enabled us to contain the emotions to a point where the analysis could continue.
4. Immersion in the Bath
The immersion in the sea signifies the solution—dissolution. We already spoke about this process when we discussed the symbolism of alchemical operations. It is the return to the dark initial state, to the amniotic fluid of the gravid uterus. — CW 16, para. 454
This dynamic points to the recreation of the familiar situation in which the client developed and in which the neurosis began. At the same time, however, it points to the possibility of a new development, symbolized by the dove.
The client grew up in an atmosphere of lurking danger and fear of suffering the fate of a long-lost grandfather. At the same time, there was the danger of being overwhelmed by the influence of the parents who, out of the same fear, attempted to control the client. The fear of injury created paranoia in the client’s life, but also, to some extent, in me. Unconsciously, I began to avoid further conflict and possible aggressive reactions from the client by limiting my responses.
In time, my own thoughts about the client became coloured by ideas of danger and by attempts to avoid it, which in turn limited possibilities within the analysis. This was precisely what the client experienced in everyday life in relationships with coworkers and friends. As a consequence, aggression periodically came to the surface in emotional reactions that were disproportionate to the actual stimulus.
Coming to the psychology of the picture, it is clearly a descent into the unconscious… In our picture the immersion is effected by the rising up of fiery, chthonic Mercurius; presumably the sexual libido engulfs the pair and is the obvious counterpart of the heavenly dove. — CW 16, para. 455
In practice, this image can be connected with what are often called countertransference reactions, where the analyst uses his own emotional reactions as a source of information about the unconscious dynamics of the client.
This is partly a matter of terminology, but I would not describe these reactions as countertransference. In Jung’s terminology, countertransference is itself a form of projection. The dynamics described here are closer to what Jung calls psychic induction.
The term induction comes from physics, where a current flowing through one coil creates an electromagnetic field that induces a similar current in another coil, even though the two coils are not physically connected.
For example, I once worked with a client who suffered from anxiety related to work performance. Around the time our work began, I noticed that a similar anxiety was becoming more noticeable in my own life. This was not entirely unusual for me, but it did seem to become more pronounced during the analysis. When I began applying to myself some of the advice I had given to the client, both of us improved. We might say that the client’s psychological problem had been induced in me through the analytic relationship.
In this sense, we were both in the same vessel, or, to use the symbolism of the alchemists, in the same bath.
5. The Conjunction
The sea has closed over the king and the queen, and they have gone back to the chaotic beginning, the massa confusa. — CW 16, para. 457
At this point, I would recommend reading the parallels Jung discusses in the text. Many of them contain motifs connected with the same psychodynamics, and when similar motifs appear in the dreams of clients—or in one’s own dreams—they can provide a sense of their possible psychological meaning. We will not go into these parallels in detail here, but instead focus on their psychological significance.
The psychology of this central symbol is not at all simple. On superficial view it looks as if the natural instinct had triumphed. But if we examine it more closely we note that the coitus is taking place in the water… i.e. the unconscious. — CW 16, para. 459
The real meaning… a union in the unconscious identity… which could be compared… with the state of participation mystique where heterogeneous factors merge in an unconscious relationship. — CW 16, para. 462
Participation mystique is a term Jung borrowed from Lévy-Bruhl. It refers to an unconscious psychological identity between two persons, a person and a group, or even between a person and an object. The effects of this state can be observed, for example, in the relationship between mother and child, in a neurotic bond between mother and daughter, among members of an organization, or, in a more archaic form, between a person and a totem animal.
The basic idea is that whatever remains unconscious becomes contaminated by the unconscious of those with whom we are in close contact. From the outside, it can appear as though people share the same unconscious. In this sense, they participate in one another’s psychic processes in a mystical way.
The same process occurs in analysis. Analyst and client become entangled through the unconscious, and it is from this level that transference projections of the client and many of the emotional reactions traditionally described as countertransference emerge.
This situation resembles the psychology represented in Figure 4. The difference is that there the process existed primarily as a possibility, whereas here it has already begun.
Jung then turns to the question of our willingness to resolve the transference and even questions the assumption that this should always be the goal.
Not everything can and must be cured. Sometimes dark moral problems or inexplicable twists of fate lie hidden under the cloak of neurosis. One patient suffered for years from depressions and had an unaccountable phobia about Paris. She managed to rid herself of the depressions, but the phobia proved inaccessible. However, she felt so well that she was prepared to risk ignoring her phobia. She succeeded in getting to Paris, and the next day she lost her life in a car smash. — CW 16, para. 463
While waiting for events to unfold, Jung points out that there is still plenty of work to be done with dreams and other manifestations of the unconscious. He also notes that within the force of the transference itself we can discover its foundation, namely the archetypal images that underlie it.
Next: Part 7. The Psychology of Transference: Death, The Ascent of the Soul and Purification
Previous: Part 5. The Psychology of Transference: Mercurial Fountain and King and Queen
Contents: Psychology of Transference (2017)