As Jung defined them, the archetypes are the major inhabitants of the unconscious. Jung uses various expressions to describe them, such as "nodal points," "motifs," "primordial images," and "patterns of behavior."
One metaphor he uses is to speak of them as organs of the unconscious much as the heart, liver, etc., are organs of the physical body. In the next chapter we will examine the force and energy aspect of the archetypes to enable us to equate these energies with the Hindu chakra system (the mundane centers on the Tree) because, in the World of Atziluth we find the root energy that we can, think of as centers and fields of force of the sephirah. Strictly speaking, the Qabalists only refer to this root energy as being archetypal. It is not registered as form or image until it reaches the World of Briah, the Prototypal World, when it becomes what Jung called archetypal images. For the moment we will confine ourselves to the individual’s relationship to the major archetypal images Jung associates with the process of Individuation. Later we can examine the archetypal energy that our psychic senses register as images or forms in dreams and visions.
Within the human psyche, the archetypes represent ways of thinking and of acting-an inherited mode of psychic functioning or a pattern of behavior (an instinct). As mentioned before, in essence an archetype is a force, but it is registered most commonly as an image. In dreams archetypes appear often as persons, sometimes quite ordinary, sometimes as mythological or ancient figures. In personal development (development of the psyche) the primary archetypes are the Shadow, the anima (a man’s soul image), the animus (a woman’s soul image), the guide, the Self, the Magna Mater (the Old Wise Woman), and the Old Wise Man who is the philosopher. The anima and the Magna Mater (Great Mother) appear as feminine; the animus and Old Wise Man appear as masculine, in both a man’s and a woman’s psyche. Due to our Western patriarchal orientation (male chauvinism) the guide and the Self usually appear as masculine. In the East a Yogin attempts to make union (Yoga) with "The Mother," but in the West both men and women look to a savior that is a man!
If any feminists happen to read this book, it may please them to know that the Higher Self (Tiphareth, the Sun) is as much feminine as It is masculine. That is to say, the mediator may appear as feminine. And where, but in the world of the home, does woman serve so well as she does as mediator between the warring factors of the family? So why not between the warring factors in the soul too? In the septenary system of the Hindus the mediating force is Kundalini and is a neutral force that can take on both masculine or feminine qualities according to whether it is rising in Ida or Pingala. Jung’s Shadow (the nigredo of Alchemy) will usually have the same sex as the dreamer but this is not necessarily so.
If we view a dream as some kind of stage-play, then these figures take on roles in the play that reflect their particular natures. In a series of dreams we will continually meet these same players over and over again in different dress and with different plots, speaking different line but always representing particular "patterns of behavior." This is not unlike the medieval morality plays, whose characters represented not persons but attitudes such as "Faith," Sorrow," "Courage," etc. Even today these morality plays are performed "out there" in movies and on television. Some styles of play have become honed and perfected the degree that they are now more like rituals than like plays.
The universal appeal of the "Western" movie largely due to its use of players as archetypal symbol. We all recognize the Hero (the good guy, with the white hat), the Shadow (he wears the black hat), the Old Wise Man (the rancher, or the old doctor), the bright anima (the rancher’s daughter, pure and sweet), and the dads anima (the dancehall strumpet, sullied but redeemable). The great Hero Myth replays itself every night on the living room TV. This is our own unique Hero Myth, and serves us as the tales of Ulysses enchanted the Greeks, or the stories of the Knights of the Round Table served the people of medieval
Our own personal dreams are no less interesting or significant. They are far more valuable to us, in fact, because they are a record of our inner growth. We do not pay as much attention to them as we should, but if we did, we would soon learn to recognize the "players" just as we recognize them in the Western movie. These players are parts of ourselves, and each night act out our problems, our hopes, and our potentials. They often have contradictory desires and needs which will be acted out in conflicts of various kinds. Sometimes the dreamer is a passive observer, and in these cases the dream is a way that the unconscious tells the ego what the unconscious wants it to know. This is reasonable enough, since the unconscious can’t talk to us when we are "awake," but when we are "asleep," it has control, and then it can complain to us, or congratulate us about how we acted during the day. In psychological terms, some dreams are compensatory (makeup for what we do not do when "awake"), and some dreams are complementary (complement our "waking" life).
In some dreams the dreamer takes an active part and himself participates in the play. Often he represents himself (the ego), but sometimes he may take the part of one of the archetypes. In such a role he may do many things that he ordinarily cannot do (like flying through the air), or that he would not do (like murder), and can experience great successes and great failures. Proper analysis and reflection upon these plays can lead us to greater self-understanding, and also to inner growth.
To do this requires some understanding of ancient symbolism, however. Our dream figures do not always appear as cowboys and bandits and other easily recognized figures. Often they appear as ancient or archaic images. Dr. Jung’s dream analysis rests upon his postulation anent the arche-types, where he often associates dream symbolism with the symbolism of ancient cults. Arriving thus at his abstract conclusions we see why these have served to baffle many of the more orthodox psychologists of our day, and why they would be inclined to think of Dr. Jung as being mystical. His conclusions about this do, however, agree in the main with the teachings of the Mystical Qabalah, and other genuine occult systems.
One of the structures Jung finds in the psyche he calls the Persona. This, he says, is the mask the self-conscious personality wears to meet the exigencies of its world. If the personality becomes totally identified with the Persona it becomes a "grown on" mask that thereby rules and dominates the true personality. This results in the conscious mind being cut off from, and therefore unable to recognize the inferior element or function, which Jung calls the Shadow. (In occult terms the true personality would be the "unit of incarnation," and the Persona would be the conditioning, mores, etc., that this personality becomes identified with, including one’s position in life-doctor, lawyer, merchant chief, butcher, baker, candlestick maker, to quote from the old nursery rhyme.) Jung’s shadow archetype would equate with the Dweller on the Threshhold of occultism—one’s inferior proclivities hidden in the unconscious. The cutting off of this element from consciousness, as the "good" Christian in particular does, results in psychic eruptions that must (due to their subconscious origin) be projected onto one’s world.
In terms of current psychology, the Persona is the role which a person plays, the major or predominant role. Most people have several roles to play: businessman by day, boy-scout leader at night, church-elder on Sunday, etc. Most of us are aware of these roles and can play them without becoming fully identified with them. That is, we are aware that we are playing a role, and do not fully believe that we are what we are playing at being. This does not mean that we are not serious in our play; we can be deadly serious. But we do not intend to become one of those roles for 24 hours a day. In fact we usually cannot keep it up for 24 hours. This is the success of the "marathon therapy" currently in vogue; it wears down the Persona which a person cannot maintain, and it then permits the personality to emerge. The fact that such large numbers of people profit from this therapy suggests that very few of us ever show our real selves in public. But the ease with which the person may be unmasked (by sheer 24 hour endurance) also shows that marathon therapy is not dealing with the psychological depths, but only with the most superficial aspect of the psyche. Anyone who is able (or rather willing) to drop his mask at will is neither frightened by such therapy nor helped by it. (Read More ...)