Jane Campion and the Anima and Animus By Puddi Kullberg


When I first started reading Jung, I would go through his lengthy descriptions of the anima, and then look, in vain, for what he said about the animus. Inevitably, it was something like, “the animus has a similar function but for women, it is a masculine function.” If you did a word count, there would be at least 200 words on the anima for every 10 words about the animus. In other words, it got short shrift. Never did I feel like the (positive), awe-inspiring functions of “the anima” (soul!) were duplicated in Jung’s cosmology for the animus. How come the men had this essential element and the women had… what? Something that made them opinionated!

In fact, “animus possessed” seemed to be the most damning epithet rather casually flung at women who were in any way feisty. It made me crazy. And the most I heard otherwise, outside of the Collected Works, was that a woman was “supposed” to have an animus who “supported” her. It/he would provide spirit and ability to function in the world. I never liked this conception. I myself have always functioned rather well in the world and it seemed of-a-piece with my nature. Not something some male part of me was promoting or supporting or accomplishing.

Over the years I have kept my own counsel and confined my personal animus explorations to the facts, i.e. psychic facts – male figures who showed up in my dreams.

However, lately I am having a certain regard for Jung’s anima and animus ideas. Have you seen Jane Campion’s film The Piano or her recent TV series The Top of the Lake?

The PianoHolly Hunter goes from the protagonist, Ada, in The Piano to the sage in The Top of the Lake. Elizabeth Moss, as Detective Robin Griffin, takes over as the protagonist in this later Campion creation. At spinning class at the gym – where ideas and inspirations and aha’s come to me (unconscious coming through third function!) – I realized something from Campion’s work that matches my own experience, an anima/animus aha moment.

In The Piano the heroine, Ada, is being saved by the vigorous, sexual, smart, vital, renegade native man (animus), Banes, played by Harvey Keitel. But at a certain point Ada has to decide, as in really decide, make conscious, choose, to be saved. She has accidentally-on-purpose entangled herself in the rope that is attached to her piano which has toppled off the canoe and is inexorably on its way to the bottom of the ocean taking her along with it. At first Ada passively drifts down through the crystalline clear, azure tropical waters, enjoying the beauty. Then Life jolts her. Her survival instinct kicks in. She responds. Her will to live coagulates. She literally starts kicking (kicks-in) with purpose, trying to extricate herself from the rope and the clutches of a watery death. Eventually she succeeds in getting free of the line but the sunlight of the water’s surface is now far distant. She struggles upward and finally she does surface, gasping for breath as she is pulled into the canoe. As all this is going on, she is narrating, a voice-over:

What a chance

What a surprise

My will has chosen life.

Still, it has had me spooked and many others besides.

Top of the LakeSimilarly, in The Top of the Lake, the heroine has to consciously choose her self before she can be authentically related to an other, an animus. Towards the end of the series, Robin is having, it seems, a redeeming relationship with an old/new love, Johnno, played by Thomas M. Wright. But at a certain point, she too, like Ada in The Piano, cannot just let this circumstance allow her to drift off into oblivion. Consequently, Robin forces a confrontation with Johnno that will certainly threaten the new found love. “Did you give them [the rapists] a signal?” That is, “Lo those many years ago, and although you have apologized for not protecting me and I have forgiven you, is there any chance that you were, in fact, colluding [actually and/or psychologically, unconsciously] with the rapists?”

What am I saying? I am saying that there is something that needs to happen within a woman’s psyche, something definitive, where she determines to and chooses herself as the locus of her experience. This is not an ego project nor is it making the ego stronger. As with Ada and Robin, something native to a woman’s psyche needs to coalesce, coagulate, decide, take an action, force the issue, confront – within or without. That moment of assertion of her own being brings her into being as a woman. Her anima is born. From that core, herself as anima, she can now enjoy an equal, reciprocal relationship with the men in her inner and outer life.

 

 

 

Consciousness and Summer Hikes by Stephen Foster, Ph.D.

 

“We stand on a peak of consciousness, believing in a childish way that the path leads upwards to yet higher peaks beyond. That is the chimerical rainbow bridge. In order to reach the next peak we must first go down into the land where the paths begin to divide.” (CW 12, Paragraph 75)


South B PeakC.G. Jung spent a great deal of time in nature, and used his observations and experiences in natural settings as metaphors in his psychological work.  He also drew from alchemical writings because alchemists were detailed observers of nature. But Jung had a particular gift for incorporating myth, alchemy and metaphoric language to convey insights with many layers.  And the above quote from Psychology and Alchemy is a good example.

Hiking in the Rocky Mountains brings one in touch with the reality of the effort required to summit a mountain, and I am sure that hiking in the Swiss Alps gave Jung time to consider mountain analogies.  Jung’s metaphor of reaching a peak of consciousness can also feel like a tremendous feat.  Once we become conscious of a particular aspect of the human psyche, particularly our own, our ego feels that insights into consciousness abound, or as Jung says, “upwards to yet higher peaks beyond.” And yet it is a fantasy to gain insight so easily.

Jung is incorporating the Norse idea of the rainbow-bridge, Bifrost, which is the bridge that connects Asgard, the world of the Aesir tribe of gods, with Midhard, the world of humanity. So by reference he suggests that the ego has the fantasy that we can simply, without much effort, cross over Bifrost from the land of humans to the land of the Gods; a short cut for the human ego to God-like wisdom.

I was reminded of this quote and Jung’s nature analogy this past weekend when I looked across the short distance from South Boulder Peak to Bear Peak. Hiking across the saddle between the two peaks requires first heading down from South Boulder Peak into the now charred trees and burned out landscape from last year’s forest fire that threatened Boulder about this time last year. This nature analogy suggests we often have to pass back down through the burned out landscape of our past experiences, which is a powerful aspect of psychological work, a process that provides deep and lasting insights. On the mountain, amongst the downed blacked trees and charred earth, patches of green plants are pushing their way up from the black soil. The patches of green can be seen as areas of repair amongst the fire ravage trees.  They represent glimpses of awareness (or consciousness) in the shadow.

Bear PeakJung might suggest that acquiring consciousness often requires going down through shadow material, back into the blackened places in our lives to find the green areas of new psychological growth. And yet in his quote Jung also warns us that consciousness is not gained easily. Limited awareness can be deceptive because it gives us the illusion that we are more conscious than we actually are.  He is suggesting that we have the fantasy that higher consciousness is gained easily and simply.  This is the “chimerical rainbow bridge.”

In reality, gaining consciousness requires the process of going down (inside) to the depths of our experience, to where our path crosses the paths of others, because this work leads us towards consciousness of another kind; metaphorically to another peak. I believe it is the process of going down and coming back up via another path that gives us consciousness.  For Bear Peak, crossing the saddle is easier than going down the 3000 feet of vertical gain and coming up another path.  But if we take the easy path we rarely gain the consciousness we actually need on this journey of life.

Inner Authority and Jung’s Model of Individuation by Kaitryn Wertz

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C.G. Jung used the term archetype to describe the innate, universal, unconscious patterns and predispositions that order human psychological experience. Authority is among those archetypal patterns. Throughout history and across cultures, every human society has had some system of authority and communal life is usually organized around it. As individuals, we negotiate with authority daily. We obey authority, resist authority, seek authority and hold authority; we project it, carry it, idealize it, devalue it and search for ways of authoring our own lives.

The word authority first appeared in the English language in the early 13th century, to describe “the book or quotation that settles a question.” Curiously, this 13th century definition gathers many modern meanings of authority into the phrase “that which settles a question”. Authority is that which settles the big and small questions of our lives; it is whatever we trust and depend upon for what neuroscientist Richard Burton calls “the feeling of knowing.”

For much of the past two thousand years of western history, authority was not to be found inside the psyche. Although Jesus had announced that “the kingdom of heaven is within”, cultural consensus located authority in the heavenly Christian God and his exclusive representatives on earth, the hierarchy of the Church. It was not until the Renaissance and Reformation challenged the Church’s exclusive claim to theological and political authority that the idea of interior authority came more into being. That challenge was voiced in Luther’s impassioned words, “To go against my conscience is neither right nor safe.”

With mainstream cultural consensus continuing to locate authority outside the psyche, religion’s authority was slowly ceded to science. But now there was also a separate stream of developing awareness of authority as internal and psychological, which gained ground as 19th century Romantics turned inward to understand human experience, arguing that we can best discover what we need to do by listening to an inner voice. In the process, these philosophers discovered the unconscious and laid the foundation for depth psychology

Forms of Authority

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In the 1920’s, the influential German sociologist Max Weber (1946) contributed a seminal work on the types of authority, distinguishing between traditional, rational-legal and charismatic forms of authority. Traditional or patriarchal authority derives from long-established customs, habits and social structures, resting on “piety for what actually, allegedly or presumably has always existed”. This is the “sacred and inviolable… authority of the father, the husband… the lord and prince.”

Rational-legal authority rests upon rationally established norms, regulations and laws. Scientific method, the modern state and the legal system are based on this form of authority.

Charismatic authority arises from belief in “the exceptional sanctity, heroism or exemplary character of an individual person, and of the normative patterns or order revealed or ordained by him.” From a Jungian perspective, this form of authority arises from the projection of archetypal contents and thus it is experienced as numinous. Charismatic authority is often revolutionary, sweeping away the stagnant traditional order. But the beliefs of the followers must be continuously supported with evidence of the extraordinary, making this form of authority highly unstable. I believe that charismatic authority, with all its instability, opens the possibility for the withdrawal of projected authority and its discovery within the psyche. In charismatic authority, the archetype of authority is moving toward consciousness.

Unlike earlier historical eras in which one form of authority dominated, in the United States today we have a menu that includes the traditional authority of established religion and patriarchal figures, such as president, general, doctor or priest, as well as impersonal rational-legal structures such as law and scientific method. The mere existence of these multiple and potentially valid forms of authority relativizes all of them.

But most striking is the multiplicity of charismatic forms of authority. From evangelical and New Age religious leaders, to political pundits pontificating on the airwaves, to self-help gurus and celebrities promising secrets that will make us wealthy, healthy, loved and sane, we live in a Babel of competing authorities. If indeed charismatic authority is the movement of the archetype toward consciousness, what is trying to be born out of this cacophony?

Inner Authority

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Jungians would answer by positing a fourth form of authority: inner or psychological authority. Unlike the previous forms, this type of authority is found within the individual. It is the ability to value and validate our own thoughts, feelings, intuitions and perceptions, leading to self-trust, confidence and the ability to become the authors of our own lives. Inner authority is a quality that emerges in men and women during what Jung called individuation, the process of psychological differentiation from both social norms and collective psychology that leads toward a more conscious awareness of wholeness.

The development of inner authority occurs throughout the individuation process, which Jung described as the progressive integration of the persona (or social identity), the shadow (rejected, repressed aspects of the personality), the anima/us (the inner contra-sexual image) and the wise old man and woman. This integration occurs repeatedly and cyclically, more comparable to phases or seasons than to linear stages, and it leads toward a conscious relationship between the ego, or center of consciousness, and the Self, the archetype of wholeness and the regulating center of the psyche.

Often imaged as the coniunctio or union of masculine and feminine principles, the Self contains all opposites and is the ultimate source of inner authority. But the processes through which inner authority develops take place during every phase of individuation. Inner authority increases as we differentiate from persona (social) roles and as we face and integrate aspects of the shadow. Just as men must differentiate from the feminine authority carried by the mother, wife, etc., women must integrate the masculine authority that has been excluded from consciousness and projected onto male figures or male-dominated institutions, such as father, husband, church, academia, etc.

We may also deepen our experience of value and validity by integrating aspects of inner authority that Jung imagined as the encounter with the Wise Old Woman and Wise Old Man. Here we find our own source of inner wisdom and learn to be in balanced relationship with it. The energy of Wise Old Woman is grounded in the earth, in embodied consciousness and in relatedness, while the energy of the Wise Old Man brings connection to authentic spirit, intellect and discernment.

Jung regarded the ultimate source of inner authority as the Self, often personified as the union of masculine and feminine figures. Developing access to the Self, through dreams, active imagination, body awareness, etc, enables us to become the authors of our own lives through a continuing dialogue between the ego and the Self.  This is, indeed, the unblazed trail, the path toward an authentic, individual experience of inner validity, value, trustworthiness and agency.

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Walking a Spiritual Path by Deborah Bryon, Ph.D.

 

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 Von Franz wrote, “There exists no individuation process in any one individual that does not at the same time produce this relatedness to one’s fellow man.”Both Jung and Von Franz believed that the role of a spiritual figure or mystic in many cultures is to facilitate a numinous religious experience as a community. Both Jung and shamans agree with the need to “give back” to the collective. However, there is a distinction between the two approaches concerning timing – at what point along the spiritual path an emphasis on “giving back” begins.

In shamanism, everything in life begins, exists and ends through direct dialogue and interaction with the land. Q’ero shamans of Peru teach that one must re-member to “source” from pacha mama because unlike people, pacha mama remains constant and is always there. To complete the uroboric circle, what is taken from the land is returned to the land so that it can be born again. The land is not only understood as a symbol of the Great Mother, the land is the Great Mother. A reciprocal relationship and dialogue is developed between the shaman and the land, which serves as a functional spiritual gateway between ordinary and nonordinary reality. Everything is understood within the context of the natural order and relationship existing between all living things, which the Q’ero refer to as kawsay pacha.

In Jungian psychology, the relationship with the unconscious serves the same function as that of the shaman maintaining a state of communion with “the land.” For Jung, the Self might be understood as similar to “the land.” “The land” might be understood to be a symbol of the Self. Jung wrote:

“The more one concentrates on one’s unconscious the more they become charged with energy: they become vitalized, as if illuminated from within. In fact they turn into something like a substitute reality.”

The distinction between the Jungian approach of drawing psychic energy from the unconscious and shamanic practice of sourcing from “the land” as a means of experiencing the numinous may be understood more as a function of introversion vs. extroversion rather than as an individual vs. a collective orientation. Both shamans and Jung would likely agree that “sourcing” occurs in the collective rather than the personal unconscious. In shamanism, this is done in ritual as an outward expression of connecting with the land. In Jungian psychology, this may occur in active imagination, dreams and synchronistic events.


 M. L. Von Franz, “Projection and Recollection in Jungian Psychology,” (p.177)

CW Jung, “Psychological Commentary on the Tibetan Book of the Great Liberation,” in Psychology and the East. (p 124, par 793)

Part II: Psyche as Image by Nora Swan-Foster

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Tree Mandala

C. G. Jung’s personal life, research and work as an analyst revolved around the healing power of symbols. He reminds us that symbols are “something partially unknown” and, while they can be personally deeply meaningful, they also connect us to the archetypal and the collective unconscious. As images they attract, organize, hold and carry the psychic energy, mentioned in Part I: Psychic Energy, and provide a visual portal through which the archetype can be known to us while also influencing the direction of energy in the psyche. Symbols are not created artificially but emerge out of the collective unconscious as the best description of something that is not yet understandable by the current condition of our conscious psyche. We invest our psychic energy into the symbol, through investigation and interpretation, so that we might better understand the personal meaning it holds for us, however the symbol will never fully become known to us. This purposive psychic energy of engaging with the symbol opens us to the mystery and transpersonal quality of our psyche and the world around us.

When I started the mandala above, I did not have a clear image of drawing a tree in the night. Instead, it was a process of choosing colors and engaging with the lines and shapes that eventually brought about this final image, which carries both a personal understanding as well as symbolic archetypal meaning. The magic of the image is that it continues to remain partially unknown and numinous to me with its archetypal dimensions that suggest the Norse tree “Yggdrasil” or the anima mundi (the tree of the world).

Supporting this process is the numinous but powerful presence of the Self, an ordering archetype that serves as the center of psychic awareness and transcends ego consciousness. Jung noticed that one particular image of the Self is the circle, a universal and cross-cultural symbol of wholeness. The Self supplies energy to consciousness throughout a life-time by way of such expressions as dreams, imaginations, spiritual awakenings, or synchronicities. When the Self is invested with energy it expresses a preoccupation with the inner subjective life, a relationship that, if it is well differentiated, reflects the value given towards the health of the psyche as a whole. The tension of the opposites is supported by energy from the Self and the longer this tension is held, the more likely a reconciliation can be found through the transcendent symbol that can arise from this tension. In analysis and active imagination our ego allows a more conscious relationship with the Self, expanding its tolerance to give way to the supreme role of the Self. In other words, a relationship develops between the ego and the Self, (ego/Self axis) and over time is strengthened. The energy of the Self can also be found in individuals who seek a greater purpose (illustrated in the development of culture). These individuals will say they are “supported by something larger than myself.”  The energy of the Self inspires the natural desire for transformation, which is expressed through symbol formation. In other words, psychic energy can be witnessed through the projection of the mental and spiritual interests that influence our world. In other words, images become expressions of psychic energy.

Jung called the underlying energetic driving force for consciousness the Individuation process. It is a term we use without much thought about where it came from when we are discussing adult development. Jung chose this term probably because it offers an archetypal image for wholeness. The energy for individuation could be imagined as the sea with tides that come and go, day after day, changing and adjusting our psychological landscape over years so that we are tempered and molded by life’s challenges that awaken us to our unique and imperfect humanity. Although not much was understood about neuroscience, Jung intuitively understood the power of the image on transforming the psyche and supporting the individuation process through the use of imagination.

Fueling this ongoing process of individuation is also the tension of the opposites and the continuous flow of psychic energy. In other words, individuation suggests the underlying energetic process of psychological development that comes by way of engaging with a symbolic life, which often requires stepping out of the collective stream. We can fail at this process if we relate to the collective world from a superficial level, leaving our conflicts unresolved and our symbolic nature undeveloped. Individuation suggests a progressive and purposive use of psychic energy. In the first half of life, the energy of the psyche is predominately expressed through achievements of the ego, while at mid-life the energy shifts and the ego must relinquish some of the energy so that the Self and individuation can be more consciously incorporated into the psyche. Through the use of images and symbols, the individuation process expresses and captures the ineffable nature of psychic energy that is inherently in service of a spiritual quest for wholeness throughout our life.