As I understand Jungian Orthodoxy, healing unto wholeness (why do I always visualize walking a poodle whilst wearing stiletto heels when I hear that phrase) calls for Ego to recognize it is the center of consciousness and must recognize and work with Self.
Hi rossweisse,
Jung's ideas on the ego can be a bit vague at the edges (at least for my taste). He waffles somewhat on the issue of how the ego is to address the Unconscious and the Self. It is clear that he advocates a position much like you describe above . . . and he may even suggest a kind of "subordination" of the ego to the Self. But he also wrote about strengthening the ego in such a way that it resists the inundation of the unconscious.
I agree with Jung that (depending on how you define these positions) both approaches have their time and place . . . but I found that I was dissatisfied with Jung's attempts (or lack thereof) to sufficiently sort this out for his readers. For instance, when does one "resist" the dissolution (or "madness" as you say) and when does one surrender? The issue is even more complicated than Jung (and his followers) have portrayed it.
This is one of the cardinal "loose threads" in Jung's individuation theory, I believe . . . and therefore, precisely one of those subjects I hope will be explored here in our forum.
So, no theory or observation - just more questions: How does everything get integrated and sorted out without Ego becoming overwhelmed, i.e., descent into madness?
This didn't go over too well with some of the other Jungians I floated the gripe to, but I feel there is a distinct contradiction between the approach to "sorting out the descent/inundation" of individuation work that Jung prescribed in his books (basically, an ego-willed resistance to dissolution . . . through a kind of rationalistic grounding) and Jung's own approach to this in his personal life and Work (his three years of "psychotic" detachment from many worldly responsibilities and from the rationality of Western medicine to work with stone, paint, write romantically and poetically about his visions, and surrender to the will of the unconscious).
My personal inclination is to favor the approach Jung actually took himself rather than the approach he prescribed professionally.
That is, I'm not sure the descent can work its course (surrender to the Self and its libido/Will) without the side-effect of "madness". The death/rebirth initiation experience (ritualized by the pagan mystery religions and then by early Christianity and Gnosticism in the baptism ritual) requires the psychic death before the New Birth. It would be a lovely bargain for the ego if it could choose rebirth without having to feel the pangs of dissolution and death . . . but I can't see how this fantasy could be in any way seaworthy.
The alchemists were pretty gruesome about all the ways death/dissolution/dismemberment were effected upon the ego (as represented by the King, especially the Old King, in the emblematic and symbolic portrayals of the opus). Although dense and obscure, I still find that the alchemical philosophers had the most to say about this stage of the Work.
Here are a few of the many emblematic depictions of the stage of the opus related to dissolution/dismemberment:
What we can see in these and other emblems is not just a drowning or destruction, but (from the perspective of the Other), a differentiation, a breaking down of things into their elemental parts (the drowning king symbol is a representation of dissolving). As egos, we might experience this stage as catastrophic dissolution of our selfhood . . . but from the perspective of the unconscious Self, we are embarking upon a necessary organization or re-shuffling. I.e., what we experience as a profoundly debilitating "fever" is really the healing process of the autonomous Self self-regulating the organism (including its psyche). The ego's perspective, I believe, is always an interpretive perspective . . . and a very colorful one at that.
The trick (and this is what I think Jung was on about with his "ego-fortification against the unconscious") is for the ego to recognize an "otherly" position in this process, a Self-oriented position that keeps one eye on the "progressiveness of descent". The establishment of such a perspective is itself an act of faith . . . and I would bet that this is precisely where people who "find religion"
find their religion. It's the first step in surrendering to the Self.
But, of course, the process is infinitely more complex . . . specifically in the mechanism the Self-as-organism seems to apply as a kind of "lure" for the ego to follow it into what at first appears to be an oblivion. I mean the anima/animus work. The anima/animus stage always precedes and accompanies the dissolution of the ego. My theory is that the ego must "fall in love with" the anima/animus as a preliminary step toward the recognition of the Self as both I and Not I. I think the anima/animus figure is so wrapped up with sexuality and attraction, because it is a symbolic representation of our sexual instinct. It woos us with all the force of pure, chthonic instinct (the reproductive libido, perhaps) . . . but it means to transplant this eventually to the Self, or if you prefer, to God. The process also requires a substantial increase in consciousness . . . the consciousness required to differentiate all this. Instincts operate unconsciously, after all . . . but the individuation work demands that we take increasing responsibility for who and what we (as egos) are. I.e., this responsibility
is consciousness.
And, even in collective culture, we think of falling in love as a kind of madness of dissolution or an absorption into the other. Falling in love, really head over heals rather naively in love and the experience of "finding religion" have so much in common that the resemblance should be recognized and made meaningful. There is no coincidence here.
And, not surprisingly, we see this dynamic in the ancient Goddess (and consort) religions in which the the sexual union of the Goddess and her consort represent the all-important fertility-spirituality of the land and culture. Having gone through the Neoplatonic Christianization of sexuality (and the body and the Feminine), we tend to forget that
sex is a religiosity among our species (addled as it may have become with modern neuroses).
So, as the individual (or the individual's ego) meets the fate of psychic dissolution at the hands of the individuation process, the deep inner search for love and connection is also at play. Perhaps, to simplify drastically, the survival of the dissolution stage can be achieved only with the romantic devotion to love . . . the romantic love of the Other. Those who cannot commit to this kind of love will languish or even perish in the dissolution. The lover, on the other hand, accepts madness as well worth the price of coniunctio. That is, to pin the tail on it, the
definition of the Lover.
No question there is more going on in the universe than our individual consciousness. How does what the intellect knows get translated into something Ego can believe. Forgive me if this is too basic. I have only been at it a couple of years.
Not basic at all. These are huge questions that we wrestle with for our entire lives. I'm afraid, though, that I'm getting a little tripped up with the terms you're using here. For instance, what precisely do you mean by "intellect" and "knows"?
As for what the ego can believe, in my opinion, the ego can and will believe anything that serves its short-term goals and facilitates its sense of self. We tend to literalize and even imprison these beliefs, insisting upon their universality . . . but I generally think they are essentially "as-ifs" that get muddled in the process of literalization. We (our egos) perceive everything, both the inner and the outer universe, through a sense of story. That is, all information is condensed, filtered, sorted, valued, and reconstituted in such a way that it makes the most sense to us (based on our prejudices and experiences). We will stick with a particular story as long as it works for us (serves our self-interest). And when the story starts to seem insufficient to accord with our experiences, we are left with a handful of options: revise or recreate the story, deny that experience warrants such revision (making a tabooed dogma of the story), or, most commonly, a little bit of both.
I would say that the concept of neurosis is akin to the entertaining of a story of selfhood (an ego narrative) that no longer serves as a functional and adaptive strategy for survival. It is like one's sense of self has become a dinosaur . . . but climate, resources, predators, etc. are making the big, lumbering, reptilian lifestyle impracticable. The species of dinosaur has to either adapt or die out. Or, more precisely, it does both. That which cannot adapt dies out, and that which adapts lives on in a changed form.
This is what the symbolic allegory of the alchemical Old and New Kings represents, as well.
Yours,
Matt
