The Psychology and Mythology of Creativity: Embracing Inner Conflict for Growth

Not the artist alone, but every creative individual whatsoever owes all that is greatest in his life to fantasy. The

dynamic principle of fantasy is play, a characteristic also of the child, and as such it appears inconsistent with the

principle of serious work. But without this playing with fantasy, no creative work has ever yet come to birth. The

debt we owe to the play of imagination is incalculable. What does it mean to be creative? The

word derives from the Latin gare meaning [music] to create, bring forth or give birth. Myths, eternally recurring

patterns that express fundamental truths about the human condition, portray creation as the activity of the gods who

bring the world into existence. Thus, creativity was first understood as a divine generative force. The earliest

recorded creation myths such as those of the Sumerianss, Babylonians, and Egyptians converge on an archetypal

motif. In the beginning, only the primordial waters existed, symbolizing chaos out of which order emerges. Heaven

and earth, the gods, and eventually humans. From undifferentiated potential arises [music] differentiation and

actuality. Psychologically, this mirrors the process by which the unconscious, often symbolized by water, [music] gives

birth to consciousness. The human psyche is the womb of all the arts and sciences. As Kung writes, I am indeed

convinced that creative imagination is the only primordial phenomenon accessible to us, the real ground of the

psyche, the only immediate reality. From the Renaissance onwards [music] and especially during the enlightenment,

creativity came to be understood as a distinctly human capacity for imagination, innovation, and invention.

At a deeper level, however, creativity involves bringing one's inner [music] nature into being, a task unique for

each individual. In union psychology, this process is called individuation. the lifelong task of becoming fully

oneself by bringing the contents of the unconscious up from their dark waters into the light of consciousness.

Individuation, however, cannot occur without prior differentiation. One must become psychologically distinct from

others, including one's loved ones, and avoid adopting another person's psyche, values, or identity in place of one's

own. [music] A common conflict arises when people try to tell others how to live, [music] unaware that they are

unconsciously projecting their own identity onto them. Naturally, there will be terrible resistances because no

one can live someone else's life. [music] In doing so, one violates not only the other's individuality but also

one's own. Rather than remaining unconsciously fused, one must establish a conscious relationship with others.

This does not imply a withdrawal of love or care. On the contrary, fusion creates confusion whereas separation makes

genuine love possible. Each person must allow his or her own individuality to unfold which is a painful process for we

are not only physically attached to those we love but also psychologically bound to them. Letting go of these

unconscious ties can bring loneliness, anxiety, and guilt. Yet without this separation, psychological growth cannot

occur. In the first half of life, differentiation dominates as we build a stable ego through interactions with

family, friends, school, work, and relationships. In the second half of life, the psyche naturally turns inward,

focusing on aligning the ego with the self, our whole personality. Failure to adapt to this shift often

leads [music] to a midlife crisis. Both differentiation and individuation continue throughout life, but one tends

to dominate at each stage of life. One might say with a little exaggeration that life truly begins at midlife. Until

then, we're just doing research. When the ego is not properly related to [music] the self, neurosis arises as a

state of inner division, and in extreme cases, psychosis may result. Many people suffer from a profound disconnection

from the psyche or soul, the mythological and symbolic realm that enriches our life with meaning. To

restore this meaning, we must reconnect with the self, which represents the potential for attaining our true nature

by making the unconscious conscious. Though many seek wholeness, they theorize endlessly about the process

precisely to evade it. For we will do anything to avoid facing our worst enemy, [music] ourselves.

Human life seems naturally oriented towards growth. Like a seed that becomes a tree and bears fruit, we too seek to

produce our own fruit, a symbol of our lives work. At the same time, there is a tremendous waste of potential visible

not only in the unlived life of humans, but also throughout nature and the animal world. The creative [music]

process is never without struggle. Every act of creation is first of all an act of destruction. For new life to emerge,

we must allow our old ideas, behaviors, and attitudes that hinder us from growth to be destroyed. This is a symbolic

death and rebirth, a painful transformation that not many are willing to endure. But to refuse this sacrifice

is to fall into stagnation and meaninglessness. Just as a snake must shed its skin to live, we too must

undergo inner change, a person must pay dearly for the divine gift of creative fire.

The ancient Greeks regarded inspiration as a form of divine madness, a gift from the gods. Through the aid of the muses,

personifications of human creativity, humans may briefly enter the realm of the divine and obtain the creative fire.

But this gift comes with a cost. Those who trespass the limits of mortality to claim what belongs to the gods must

ultimately pay a [music] price. Across the world, myths of tricksters and culture heroes stealing fire illustrate

the dual nature of creativity. [music] It can enlighten but also bring suffering. The most popular figure is

that of Prometheus in Greek mythology. As Hassiod recounts in theoggony, Prometheus deceived the gods, leading

Zeus to withhold fire from humanity. Out of pity for mankind, Prometheus stole the fire back, an act for which he was

condemned to eternal torment. In his wrath, Zeus sought to punish humanity as well, commanding Heresus to fashion the

first woman from Earth, who would bring misfortune to man. Hiad revisits the myth in works and days framing

Prometheus's theft of fire as the origin of human suffering. The first woman is introduced as Pandora all gifts who

carries a jar containing countless plagues. Prometheus had warned his brother Epimetheus not to accept any

gifts from Zeus but Epimethus ignored the warning and accepted Pandora. Out of curiosity, Pandora opened the jar,

releasing sorrow, disease, and death, thereby ending the golden age. Only one thing remained within the jar, hope. In

Prometheus [music] Bound, Prometheus gifts mortals not only fire, but also hope, and bestows upon them the arts

that shape civilization, thereby expanding their knowledge. Before his intervention, humans are described as

having eyes yet seeing nothing, having [music] ears yet hearing no sound. They drifted like fleeting shapes in a dream,

lost, confused, wandering through endless days. In myths, truths that occur internally are presented as though

they were external events. Psychologically, the theft of fire can be seen as a symbol for the increase of

consciousness, which may be described as the goal of human existence. to know oneself. Until we embark on this

journey, we exist in a kind of limbo, drifting aimlessly. But the acquisition of such precious knowledge comes at a

heavy cost, the end of the paradisical golden age. A similar truth appears in the myth of Adam and Eve. If we imagine

being born in paradise and living there eternally, we would be like unconscious automatons with little free will and no

possibility for growth. By eating the forbidden fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, Adam and

Eve's eyes were opened, symbolizing the dawn of human consciousness. However, they immediately felt ashamed and hid

from God, who promptly expelled them from paradise, lest they eat of the tree of life and become immortal like the

gods. In his book, The Courage to create, American psychologist Rolo May considers the battle with the gods as a

struggle with our own mortality. Creativity is a way of reaching for immortality. [music] We know we must die

and each of us must find the courage to face death, but we also rebel against it. As Dylan Thomas wrote, "Do not go

gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light." Creativity arises from this very

struggle. Michelangelo's writhing unfinished statues of slaves struggling in their prisons of stone are a fitting

symbol for our human condition. Every infant experiences a fall from paradise, a kind of archetypal maternal womb or

original wholeness when leaving the comforting circle of the mother to develop an ego. Yet without this fall,

there would be neither consciousness nor creativity as we know them. Thus, it can be seen as a happy fall or fall upward

moving us from the stasis of the denic state [music] to the full richness of the human condition where duality and

the tension of opposites make growth possible. As Jung declared, only here in life on earth where the opposites

[music] clash together can the general level of consciousness be raised. That seems to be man's [music] metaphysical

task. In the marriage of heaven and hell, William Blake states that without

contraries is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate are necessary to human

existence. From these contraries spring what the religious call good and evil. Good is the passive that obeys reason.

Evil is the active springing from energy. Good is heaven. Evil [music] is hell. The marriage of these opposites

suggests that by reconciling them, we can transcend duality and go beyond good and evil. This constitutes the true

religious experience through which we may return to paradise but on a higher level of consciousness. This journey is

depicted by Blake in Songs [music] of Innocence and Experience, where the individual falls from innocence into

experience and seeks to grow out of the fallen condition into higher innocence, [music] a new Eden which transcends the

original. Blake reverses the traditional view of hell as a place of punishment. Instead, portraying it as a realm of

activity, desire, and energy, [music] writing that energy is eternal delight. He walks among the fires of hell

delighted with the enjoyments of genius which to angels look like torment and insanity. In contrast, heaven represents

pacivity, reason and conformity. Thus, we can distinguish between two types of individuals, the energetic creators and

the rational organizers or the devils and the angels. Psychologically, Blake's hell can be understood as the

unconscious, the source of inner drives, impulses, and creative urges, while heaven symbolizes the super ego, the

internalized social norms and rules taught by parents, institutions, and role models. Both are necessary.

Problems arise when one dominates the other, such as acting out destructive impulses or succumbing to excessive

conformity. Blake writes, "He who desires but acts not breeds pestilence." In other words, repressed contents

become dangerous for they create neurosis and can erupt uncontrollably by bringing unconscious psychic energy into

consciousness potentially destructive impulses can be supplimated into constructive or creative expressions. In

this way, fire becomes a symbol of the creative forces of the unconscious, the flames of inspiration, and perhaps even

the means of salvation. For fire burns away everything that is superfluous. Only the essential survives the fire.

One of the central figures in Blake's mythology is Lust, who is frequently associated to the labors of a blacksmith

in his forge, heating metal in the furnace and shaping it on the anvil with his hammer, a symbol of creative work.

His ultimate task is to redeem humanity from its fallen state through the divine spark of imagination, restoring man's

original vision of unity in a benevolent universe. Loss also takes the form of the bard, a redemptive agent who has

transcended the realm of experience, having seen through the veil that conceals the benevolent unity of the

universe, which for others appears flawed or evil. Having awakened, the bot sympathetically cries out to the masses

of the earth, calling man to rise to his level of consciousness, suggesting that he too was once oblivious to such a

vision. However, while all contain the capacity for this growth, not all achieve it. Some remain in experience.

The B realizes that his fallen condition is not final but transformative. For without a prior fall, there can be no

subsequent redemption. He also perceives time differently. Past, present, and future exists simultaneously. This

fusion of time belongs to eternity and stands apart from the ordinary temporal condition of fallen humanity. It forms a

vertical timeless axis that intersects the horizontal flow of time at every moment, offering a still point within

the ever moving world. Through creative work, we may at times enter the eternal now, a realm beyond space and time,

where self-consciousness fades, and we [music] become fully immersed in the act of creation. This is the flow state. He

[snorts] who learns to live in the present is truly free from all worries, for tomorrow never comes.

For Blake, our true nature comes from what he calls the poetic genius. He writes that the poetic genius is the

true man and that the body or outward form of man is derived from the poetic genius. Likewise that the forms of all

things are derived from their genius which by the ancients was called an angel and spirit and demon. As all men

are alike though infinitely various so all religions and as all similars have one source. The true man is the source.

He being the poetic genius. The poetic genius is the creative spirit within us all which is of divine origin.

It is the aspect of the psyche that strives towards unity. The word poet comes from the Greek poen meaning to

make or bring forth. Thus a poet is literally a maker or a creator. In Roman mythology, the genius was a personal

guardian spirit present at birth, shaping one's character and destiny, though today the term is usually used to

describe someone of exceptional talent or ability. The ancient Greeks called this guiding spirit a don. And he who

followed it could experience udeimmonia, a state of good spirit and fulfillment. By attending to our true nature, we

participate in the imaginative process [music] and in the creation of our own myth. In doing so, we follow the path of

the poetic genius. This creative spirit is the source underlying all art and myth. Blake's visionary work seeks to

restore what the ancients called the golden age, not as a period in the past or future, but as the realization that

God and man were one in paradise, and they still are, even though the illusions of the physical world often

obscure this unity. The visionary perceives it directly. and the great works of art affirm it. Blake saw the

artist's task as helping humanity regain Eden, to leave behind that state of delusion that we are separate from our

spiritual nature. Art is therefore prophetic, revealing the true pattern of human life.

The artist must sacrifice himself to become the mouthpiece of the zeitgeist or spirit of the age. Modern art, for

example, often shows alienation, anxiety or disorder reflecting what is happening in a society. In this way, the artist

gives us a distant early warning of what is happening to our culture. The question is, can we decipher the

meaning? James Joyce writes, "Welcome, oh life. I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience

and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race. Every creative encounter is a new event.

Each one demands an assertion of courage. The task is as odd as the blacksmith's labor of bending red hot

iron in his forge to make something of value for human life. Conscience is not handed down readymade but is created

through the inspiration of the artist who seeks to express the inner voice rising from the depths of his being and

in doing so contributes to the formation of the conscience of the race. This is no easy task. It is as difficult as

forging in the smithy of one's own soul. Two forces are at war within the artist. On the one hand, the longing for

happiness, satisfaction, and security in life, and on the other, a ruthless passion for creation, which may go so

far as to override every personal desire. The unborn work in the psyche of the artist is a force of nature, pushing

itself into existence, sometimes with little regard for the individual who serves as its vehicle. The creative urge

lives and grows in him like a tree in the earth from which it draws its nourishment. Jung writes, "Every

creative person is a duality or a synthesis of contradictory qualities. On the one side, he is a human being with a

personal life, while on the other side, he is an impersonal creative process. Art is a kind of innate drive that

seizes a human being and makes him its instrument. The artist is not a person endowed with free will who seeks his own

ends, but one who allows art to realize its purposes through him. As a human being, he may have moods and a will and

personal aims. But as an artist, he is man in a higher sense. He is collective man, a vehicle and molder of the

unconscious psychic life of mankind. That is his office. and it is sometimes so heavy a burden that he is fated to

sacrifice happiness and everything that makes life worth living for the ordinary human being.

If the lives of artists are often so unsatisfactory, if not tragic, it is either because of some personal

inferiority or inability to adapt or because they are compelled by forces beyond their control which compel them

to create willy-nilly. Yung writes, "I've had much trouble getting along with my ideas. There was a diamond in

me, and in the end, its presence proved decisive. It overpowered me, [music] and if I was at times ruthless, it was

because I was in the grip of the don. I could never stop at anything once attained. [music]

I had to hasten on to catch up with my vision. A creative person has little power over his own life. He is not free.

He is captive and driven by his diamond. The diamond of creativity has ruthlessly had its way with me.

Creative power is stronger than its possessor. The true artist is the one who enlarges human consciousness. This

creativity is the [music] most basic manifestation of an individual fulfilling his own being in the world. A

work of art is something super personal. The work shapes itself. Thoughts and images arise that the artist never

intended. Even so, he recognizes that it is something within him speaking his own inner nature expressing what he could

never say deliberately. Here, the artist feels subordinate [music] to a power greater than himself and stands apart

from the act of creation. However, not all works of art come into being in the same way. Some are created deliberately

with the artist consciously shaping the material to express a specific intention. [music] In these cases, the

artist is fully identified with the creative process and his will and skill are inseparable [music]

from the work itself. Yung distinguishes between two modes of artistic creation, the [music]

psychological and the visionary. The psychological mode draws its material from the personal unconscious. crucial

experiences, powerful emotions, suffering and passion. In short, the stuff of human fate. In the visionary

mode, by contrast, the material is no longer familiar. [music] It deres its existence from the

hinterland of the human mind, as though it had emerged from the abyss of prehuman ages. These are the archetypes

of the collective unconscious. Jung gives the example of Gertus Foust as an illustration of these two extremes. Part

one belongs to the psychological mode while part two belongs to the visionary. In the psychological mode, we rarely

question the meaning of the material. In the visionary mode, we are unsettled and search for explanations. We are reminded

of nothing in everyday life, but rather of dreams, nighttime fears, and the dark uncanny recesses of the human mind.

Because of this, such works are often rejected by the public. Yet works that are symbolic fascinate us and grips us

intensely because a symbol remains a perpetual challenge to our thoughts and feelings as we are unable to unriddle

its meaning to our entire satisfaction. However, a work that is manifestly not symbolic appeals much more to our

aesthetic sensibility because it is complete in itself and fulfills its purpose. Visionary or archetypal art

contain primordial images that are true symbols, that is expressions for something real but unknown. When an

archetypal or mythological situation emerges, it hits us with intense emotion, transporting us far above the

challenges of everyday life. At such moments, we are no longer individuals, but the race, the voice of all mankind,

resounds in us. formation, transformation, eternal minds, [music]

eternal recreation. The visionary artist transforms personal experience into the shared destiny of

humanity, turning the everyday into the eternal [music] and awakening the forces that have from time to time enabled us

to find refuge from every peril and to endure the darkest times. What is essential in a work of art is that it

should rise far above the realm of personal life [music] and speak from the spirit and heart of a poet as man to the

spirit and heart of mankind. This is the secret of great art. The creative process activates an archetypal

image in the unconscious which the artist shapes into a work that speaks to the present by drawing a primordial

image up from the unconscious and transforming it into a form the present can accept. The artist compensates for

[music] the one-sidedness of the age. In this way, art becomes a process of self-regulation in the life of

individuals, nations, and epochs. We tend to assume that strange archetypal visions come from deeply personal

experiences as if the artists were hiding their source. This easily leads to the idea that such art is

pathological or neurotic, especially since visionary material can resemble the fantasies of the mentally ill. Yet

at the same time, psychotic works often contain a depth of meaning usually found only in the creations of a genius.

Reducing a vision to a personal experience makes it seem unreal and inauthentic, [music]

turning it into a mere symptom rather than a true creation. The chaos is reduced to a psychological disturbance

which reassures us and we turn back to our picture of a well-ordered cosmos. The truth is that it deflects our

attention from the psychology of the work of art and focuses it on the psychology of the artist. While the

artist's psychology matters, the work of art exists in its own right as an autonomous complex and cannot be

dismissed as just a personal association. At times, we must even defend the seriousness of the visionary

experience against the artist's personal [music] resistance to it. Artists who have fallen out of fashion are often

rediscovered when our consciousness has evolved enough to understand them in a new way. Their meaning was always in the

work, hidden in symbols. But only a renewal of the spirit of the age allows us to perceive it. Fresh eyes are needed

because the old ones could see only what they were used to seeing. In the way of the dream, union analyst

Marie Louise von France recounts the case of one of her patients, a painter specialized in highly accurate and

realistic portrait paintings, and who strongly rejected what he called modern art, which he saw as destructive and

senseless. Night after night, he dreamt that he had to abandon his habitual style and begin painting inner abstract

realities. Whereas he had always worked in dark colors, the dreams insisted that he paint in bright ones. At the same

time, he had among others one very disagreeable physical symptom. He was impotent. But as soon as he began to

obey the dreams, his physical symptoms, including his impotence, disappeared. He was cured by completely changing his

artistic style. He did not have to change his vocation. He only had to change his style.

People who wish to start a creative endeavor often encounter an inner critic that insists that they are not good

enough or that they will never improve. This voice can be paralyzing, leading many to give up before they even start

or to live vicariously through the creations of others. As a result, one may spend years, sometimes a lifetime,

haunted by self-doubt. This inner critic is a manifestation of the shadow containing one's repressed aspects.

[music] Rather than escaping from its criticism, one must listen to it and acknowledge it. What we resist persists.

What we embrace transforms. [music] The act of creation is not about making something completely new out of nothing,

but the act of setting free and expressing the potential that already exists within us by taking what inspires

us and shaping it in our own way, filling it with our personal experiences. Our latent potential is

brought into actuality, which leads to the formation of our own myth. What is your myth? It is your role on the world

stage. Through it, nature expresses [music] herself in you. And as your consciousness grows, it contributes to

the evolution of human consciousness, of nature, and of God. Therefore, one should follow the path that nature has

carved. Another obstacle in creative work lies in creating merely to please others or to meet aesthetic expectations

without the work having any personal meaning. This is pseudo creativity. It is a game in which the persona or social

mask is being [music] mistaken for the true self. Without engaging with one's personal life, there can be no authentic

encounter with reality leading to neurosis. Jung writes, "Neurosis does not produce art. [music] It is

uncreative and enimical to life. It is failure and bungling. But the moderns mistake morbidity for creative birth,

part of the general lunacy of our time. Those who rely on their creativity to earn a living face a harsh reality. They

often have to set aside what is personally meaningful in favor of work that is less fulfilling but popular and

socially approved. At times they have no choice but to sacrifice their own desires simply to make a living and

survive. Moreover, unpredictable and prolonged uncertainty leads to despair. [music]

At times one feels abandoned by the muses and unable to work. Society adds to the burden often judging those who do

not earn a living in conventional ways as lazy or worthless. Over time this pressure leads to isolation and a

decline in mental health. The artist like any human being needs the support of others. The substance of a creative

work does not come from the artist but from the unseen forces that inspire it. The task of the creative individual is

to awaken and give shape to what is already present in silence. Chinese writer Luji writes, "We poets struggle

with non-being to force it to yield being. We knock upon silence for an answering music.

The being which the poem is to contain derives from non-being, not from the poet. And the music it is to own comes

not from us who make the poem, but from the silence comes in answer to our knock. The poet labors to struggle with

the meaninglessness and silence of the world until he can force it to mean, until he can make the silence answer and

the non-being be. Creative people are distinguished by their ability to live with anxiety. Even though a high price

may be paid in terms of insecurity, sensitivity, and vulnerability for the gift of creative fire, they do not run

away from non-being. But by encountering and wrestling with it, force it to produce being. They pursue

meaninglessness until they can force it to mean. The true artist puts something of his own personal life experience onto

the page, whether good or bad, something that has moved him and carries meaning. This is authentic creativity. The

unconscious does not care as much as what we come up with aesthetically. As our intention behind what we do, what

the unconscious appreciates is our attempt to bring its contents into the light of consciousness. Art is not just

about attaining unrealistic aesthetic perfection. There is beauty in imperfection. In Japanese culture,

Wabishabi sees imperfection as a form of art, a kind of flawed beauty, recognizing that nothing is perfect.

This is wholeness, an acceptance of the full spectrum of the human condition. Creative people are archetypal

wanderers, navigating through the unconscious to bring its content into consciousness. At times they may follow

this process without difficulty but eventually they encounter creative blocks periods when new ideas or work

seems impossible. These blocks can arise from overthinking, perfectionism, self-doubt, fear of failure, burnout or

pressure from deadlines and expectations. Just as land must follow to become

fertile again, so too must we pass through a period of rest and baroness. We are so accustomed to doing that we

have forgotten the art of simply being. Not one can mind all year. I find enough joy every day in my heart. And after a

meal and a pot of strong tea, I sit on a rock by a pond and count fish. Quiet on troubled days. Nothing to do or change.

With 36,000 days, why not spend a few staying still? Time makes us uneasy, for we regarded as

our enemy in our insatiable striving for progress, fearing the changes it brings and the death that awaits us all. So, we

find ways to kill time. But if we distract ourselves every time we feel even slightly bored, we make it harder

to find meaning and stunt our creativity. It often happens that during idle moments ideas simply come to us. We

do not have ideas. Ideas have us. Inspiration can come in a certain flash completely absorbing us. This state of

being carried away describes both the creative person and someone fully engaged in play. We say a thought pops

up, an idea comes out of the blue, or it suddenly hit me. All describe the same thing. ideas rising from the unconscious

into awareness. When the creative spirit is absent, yet the desire to create remains, the artist may become deeply

frustrated, blame himself, and sink into despair, sometimes unable to create for weeks, months, or even years. But

creativity must grow at its own pace. To force the ego's desires upon a natural process, is like planting a seed and

washing it obsessively, whispering, "Grow, grow, grow," only to become frustrated when it does not. Great

things take time to mature. Creativity demands both patience and passion, which share the same ethmological root pi,

meaning to endure, to suffer, or to undergo. The creative spirit is far more likely to respond when we prepare for it

rather than blaming ourselves and daydreaming about endless could have, would have, should have scenarios. Such

behavior acts as a defense mechanism. It is tempting because it relieves us of responsibility, projecting it onto some

imagined other who we believe for reasons unknown refuses to help us. What we fail to realize is that this other is

unable to help precisely because we do not allow it to express itself. In this way, we escape from the growing anxiety

that comes from taking responsibility for our own lives. Yet, ultimately, it is we who must decide to bring our

creative life into being. Romeo May writes, "But let it be said immediately that unconscious insights or answers to

problems that come in reverbery do not come hit or miss. They may indeed occur at times of relaxation or in fantasy or

at other times when we alternate play with work. But what is entirely clear is that they pertain to those areas in

which the person consciously has worked laboriously and with dedication. We cannot will to have insights. We cannot

will creativity. But we can will to give ourselves to the encounter with intensity of dedication and commitment.

The deeper aspects of awareness are activated to [music] the extent that the person is committed to the encounter.

The encounter does not happen merely because we have changed subjectively. It represents rather a real relationship

with the objective world. Genuine creativity is characterized by heightened consciousness. The artist

experiences joy in contrast [music] to fleeting happiness. Joy is the emotion that goes with heightened consciousness.

the mood that accompanies the experience of actualizing one's own potentialities. Courage is not the absence of despair,

but rather the capacity to move ahead in spite of despair. If you do not express your own ideas coming from yourself, if

you do not listen to your own being, you will have betrayed yourself. Creativity takes great courage because an active

battle with a god is occurring. We must always base our commitment in the center of our own being or else no commitment

will be ultimately authentic. The emptiness within corresponds to an apathy without and apathy adds up in the

long run to cowardice. Creativity must arise from your innermost self, not from fulfilling the

expectations of others. You must follow your own path. A common regret expressed by those close to death is not having

had the courage to live a life true to themselves. Instead, they lived a life others expected of them. Moreover, they

often speak not of deep regret over what they did, but over what they failed to do, dreams left unpursued and potential

unrealized. This is the unlived life. One of the most destructive things psychologically is unused creative

power. If someone has a creative gift and for some reason fear, laziness or conformity does not use it, the psychic

energy turns inwards and becomes poisonous. That is why we often see neurosis or psychosis as expressions of

not lived possibilities. After Jung's paranormal experience in 1916, when the dead appeared to him and told him, "We

have come back from Jerusalem where we found not what we sought." He wrote the seven sermons of the dead after which

they vanished. He later remarked, "From that time on, the dead have become ever more distinct for me as the voices of

the unanswered, unresolved, and unredeemed." Yung writes, "Perhaps there is, after

all, something to the idea that one chooses one's life before birth. In this case, there would be a connection

between previous fantasies and a specific life. You may harbor a yearning for something during your life and have

fantasies about the unlived aspect right up until you die. People often regret not having done something or other. If

there were a continuation, according to the laws of the psyche, an impulse would arise to realize these compensatory

fantasies. In order to bring creativity forth, one must understand oneself and the meaning

and purpose of one's life. But to seek one's true vocation is like entering a forest [music] where it is darkest and

no path is visible. Authenticity requires uncertainty. In the midst of such uncertainty, one may feel a hunch

to do a particular [music] thing, yet be unable to explain it rationally, not even to oneself, let alone others.

Nevertheless, one feels compelled to follow it, for it may manifest as a visual feeling accompanied by strong

emotion. Intuition is a nonrational faculty. As a result, one is often seen as a fool or madman. For not only does

one go against social expectations, but one is also unable to fully articulate why [music] this can create self-doubt,

and eventually one may give in and do what others believe is best. The great decisions of human life have as a rule

far more to do with the instincts and other mysterious unconscious factors than with conscious will and

well-meaning reasonleness. The shoe that fits one person pinches another. There is no recipe for living that suits all

cases. Many of the difficulties we experience in life have the roots in childhood.

Every child is creative, but the challenge is remaining creative as we grow up. For those who endured a

difficult upbringing, the wounded child does not vanish. It carries on into adulthood, often causing struggles. What

are the earliest memories you have of your life? What is the earliest dream you can recall? There's a reason why

they became imprinted in your mind. They have affected or shaped you in some way. We often assume that we know little of

our childhood, but suddenly a particular smell, image, or moment triggers a long-forgotten memory, bringing with it

a profound sense of nostalgia. [music] Such memories do not disappear. They lie below the threshold of consciousness and

can emerge at any moment. Unagnowledged patterns often [music] pass down the family line which makes it

equally important to understand our parents and ancestors. For in doing so, we come to [music] understand ourselves.

Jung confessed that a decisive factor in choosing his path was the knowledge that if he did not respond fully to his

life's purpose and challenges, then they would be inherited by his children who would have to bear the burden of his

unlived life in addition to their own difficulties. We must examine the cards we have been

dealt in life and the peculiarities of our upbringing. For example, [music] someone may have been involuntarily

isolated from society for years and the card life has dealt as that of the hermit. Rather than regarding this as a

misfortune, it can be understood as a constellation of an archetype of which the person has become a living

embodiment. Such a person may possess a rich inner life yet struggle to adapt to the outer world which is just as

essential. The point is not to speculate on how things could have been different but to accept them as they are. Then

life will flow well. Otherwise we suffer more in imagination than in reality. It is like placing heavy stones to block

the natural flow of the river. Thus, the secret of life seems to be to accept it as it is. Paradoxically, the more we

think about the meaning of our life, the more we fail to live life fully. Towards the end of his life, Yung wrote, "Much

might have been different if I myself had been different. But it was as it had to be, for all came about because I am

as I am. I know only that I was born and exist. And it seems to me that I've been carried along. I exist on the foundation

of something I do not know. In spite of all uncertainties, I feel a solidity underlying all existence and a

continuity in my mode of being. Most of the time when people say that life has no meaning, it is because they

feel their own life lacks meaning and unconsciously project this emptiness into the world. Constructing a

philosophy out of their wound itself. It is not about finding the meaning of life in general but one's own subjective

meaning. For this it is essential to rely on intuition, emotion, dreams, and visions. One should treat one's

fantasies as just as important and real as so-called real life. Jung writes, "The best way of dealing with the

unconscious is the creative way. Create, for instance, a fantasy. Work it out with all the means at your disposal.

Work it out as if you were it or in it, as you would work out a real situation in life which you cannot escape. All the

difficulties you overcome in such a fantasy are symbolic expressions of psychological difficulties in yourself.

And in as much as you overcome them in your imagination, you also overcome them in your psyche.

For Yung, one of the most powerful means of accessing unconscious material is what he calls active imagination. A

technique that involves visualizing various spontaneous scenes and engaging in dialogue with different aspects of

yourself while fully awake. By dealing with the struggles that arise in your fantasies, the issues that would have

been presented in dreams are confronted and worked out. In this way, dreams become more focused and concentrated and

less repetitive. The key lies in the active component. One must write down the session to prevent it from becoming

mere passive fantasy. Though it demands deep concentration and solitude, active imagination is among the most effective

methods for creative work and for the formation of one's personal myth. However, some people are not

psychologically prepared for such a task and may become too absorbed in the flow of images, temporarily losing touch with

the ordinary world. For this reason, one should be cautious. During his confrontation with the

unconscious, Jung knew he had to plunge fully into his fantasies. He needed to gain power over them, for he realized

that if he did not do so, they might gain power over him. Moreover, he could not expect of his patients what he was

not willing to do himself. He writes, "To the extent that I managed to translate the emotions into images, that

is to say, to find the images which were concealed in the emotions, I was inwardly calmed and reassured. Had I

left those images hidden in the emotions, I might have been torn to pieces by them."

The unconscious can lead to creation or destruction. The more grounded one is, the better one is prepared to delve into

the unconscious. As is often the case, one needs balance. Some are too lofty, immersing themselves in the unconscious

and becoming possessed by it, while others are too grounded, denying its existence, and yet still falling under

its influence. Nie, who proclaimed himself the hermit of Sils Maria, wrote in a draft of his final work, Eay Omo, I

am solitude, become man. Lacking a firm anchor in the outer world, he possessed nothing more than the inner world of his

thoughts, which incidentally possessed him more than he it. He succumbed to irreality, the quintessence of horror,

and suffered a mental breakdown. Yung writes, "Picularly at this time when I was working on the fantasies, I needed a

point of support in this world, and I may say that my family and my professional work were there to me. It

was most essential for me to have a normal life in the real world as a counterpoint to that strange inner

world. The unconscious contents could have driven me out of my wits. Only by attending to everyday duties can

one gain a sense of sanity and liberation which opens the door to a creative mood. Equally essential is the

presence of others. Individuation occurs through relationships, not complete isolation. Von France states, "We're now

discovering that the dream world is the most beneficent thing on earth, and that attending to one's dreams is the

healthiest thing one can do. But the dream world can also devour a person by way of daydreaming, spinning neurotic

fantasies, or chasing unrealistic ideas. You only have to go into a lunatic asylum to see the victims of the dream

world. The dream world is beneficent and healing only if we have a dialogue with it, but at the same time remain in

actual life. We must not forget living. The duties of real living must not be neglected. We call that dangerous aspect

of the dream world the devouring unconscious or the devouring mother. It can suck us away from reality and spin

us into neurotic or even psychotic unreality. Solidifying one's fantasies can make a big difference whether

through writing, music, painting, ceramics or other creative forms. Otherwise, they remain vague and float

aimlessly in the unconscious. Even if their meaning is unclear, paying attention to your inner contents

influences the unconscious which may respond with a dream. The dream is the voice of nature or the voice of the

instinct. Sometimes your inner world appears to have a correspondence in the outer world which are called

synchronicities or meaningful coincidences. These events are acts of creation in time that are somehow linked

to your personal development. It is as though the universe itself acknowledges your effort towards self-realization.

Our conscious attitude is crucial. Those who refuse to pay attention to the unconscious are influenced by it

nonetheless, albeit in a negative way. In both cases, one may suffer, but in one case, one suffers authentically and

grows, while in the other, one suffers neurotically and remains stagnant or withers away. [music] One unites, the

other splits. Life leads the willing and drags along the unwilling. It makes a difference whether we say yes to our

fate and fulfill it positively or say no and are dragged by it against our will. The self or God image wants to become

conscious through us. God wants to incarnate in us [music] and called or not, God will be present. If you bring

forth what is within you, [music] what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what

you do not bring forth will destroy you. To speak of suffering is very different from actually experiencing it. One

cannot merely intellectualize it and say suffering is indispensable for growth and ultimately good for me. No, when you

suffer it fills your whole being. You want it to end and when it does not, you struggle and fight against it. Then you

grow. Yung writes, "Now and then it happened in my practice that a patient grew beyond himself because of unknown

potentialities and this became an experience of prime importance to me. In the meantime, I'd learned that all the

greatest and most important problems of life are fundamentally insoluble. They must be so, for they express the

necessary polarity inherent in every self-regulating system. They can never be solved, but only outgrown.

It is helpful to view life's trials not as misfortunes that cause meaningless suffering, but as lessons life teaches

you. Whether this is objectively true or not is beside the point. What matters is whether this perspective allows one to

move from being a passive victim to an active agent in one's own life. If it grants renewed energy to face challenges

and the courage to confront them, let it be so. And if one cannot accept a misfortune because it feels absurd or

unjust, let that be so as well. One must follow one's inner convictions. An illness, whether physical,

psychological, or spiritual, may take everything we once considered valuable. Most respond with despair. Yet, few

consider that perhaps it is nature's way of re-educating the person, as though the illness were nature's way of saying,

"You must become whole. Only then will you be well." Those who view illness as an opportunity for re-education often

emerge healthier and more fulfilled than before. Perhaps God uses such trials to open our eyes to show us a deeper truth

beyond the fleeting things of this world. Austrian psychiatrist Victor Frankle writes, "We must never forget

that we may also find meaning in life even when confronted with a hopeless situation when facing a fate that cannot

be changed. For what then matters is to bear witness to the uniquely human potential at its best, which is to

transform a personal tragedy into a triumph. When we are no longer able to change a situation, just think of an

incurable disease such as inoperable cancer, we are challenged to change ourselves.

It is the meaning of life that keeps us alive against even the most unfavorable conditions. If one continues to suffer

and consciously accepts this suffering and understands that one is doing something for the eternal in oneself,

then one has made a conscious realization that is essential. Consciously lived suffering seems to

have a redeeming effect on the past and on the future of humanity's collective consciousness. Von France recounts being

consulted by a woman who had a schizophrenic episode and was in a state of profound despair. [music]

The woman said to her, "What is the meaning of my life? I am ruined. Even the medication isn't helping me anymore.

What meaning can you give to my life?" Von France replied, "You are suffering for God." The woman immediately

understood and responded, "Thank you. Now I can [music] live." 3 weeks before his death, Jung wrote, "Nothing can be

created without indebtedness, and only one [music] who bears the cost can create. The person without indebtedness,

who renounces the world and refuses to pay life's dues, does not achieve individuation because the dark god would

find no place in him." Creation always comes at a cost, a sacrifice that brings about suffering.

Growth requires enduring inner [music] conflict and moral burden. Without confrontation, there is no

transformation and hence no individuation. As Jung explores in answer to Job, [music] it is the guilty

and burdened individual, not the guiltless one who avoids life's demands, who is best suited to carry the

continuing incarnation of God. In someone who seeks only light, the dark god would find no room. The encounter

between conscious and unconscious demands that the light not only illuminates the darkness but also

understands it. Only if we wrestle with reconciling these opposites in our own unique way can we become whole and allow

God to incarnate in us not as pure light but as the union of light and darkness on a higher level of consciousness. In

this way we contribute to the collective consciousness of humanity, nature and God. This may be described as [music]

the supreme creative act.