Showing posts with label jung. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jung. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

The desire – drive dissonance and why you can’t always get what you want.

by Stephen Farah via appliedjung 

Sigmund Freud[1]and the birth of psychoanalysis gave rise to the idea of a “drive” and “drive theory”, (in German “trieb” and “Triebtheorie”. )[2] A drive, in this sense, is a psychical phenomenon that represents an unconscious motivation or instinct[3] in the subject’s psychology. The two most prominent of these drives for Freud are Eros, the sexual creative drive, and Thanatos, the aggressive and destructive death drive (Toedestrieb).[4] An important feature, maybe the most essential characteristic of a drive, is its psychical orientation and distinction from the physiological instinct. It is a uniquely psychological phenomenon.
What Freud wished to call attention to by speaking of Trieb instead of Instinkt, I believe, is that human sexual behaviour is characterized by the fact that it is anything but stereotyped, as witness the sexual behaviour of children, the sexual fantasies and symptoms of neurotic patients, and the variety of sexual perversions.” [5]
This idea was expanded and amplified by the work of the French psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan.[6] Where Lacan amplified, or arguably changed, classical Freudian drive theory, is in the notion that drives are structured to remain inherently unsatisfied.[7] At first blush this is not all that different from Freud’s theory as drive as the psychical form of the instinct would naturally only be satisfied for a time and then naturally would reactivate as a form of desire. Lacan’s view is slightly more pessimistic, in that the drive is simply and perennially dissatisfied/unfulfilled.  It has as its object or telos the enrolled, engaged and anxious subject.

To some degree these distinctions, at least from the limited perspective of this post, are in the realm of fine grained theory. Either way, the drive exerts an ongoing, unconscious, affective and anxiety provoking, effect. This is most noticeable in the experience of unfulfilled desire.

The above noted, I do think the Lacanian perspective is immensely useful. Specifically, the idea that the drive leads desire to circulate around an absence. Not, importantly, an absence that can ever be fulfilled. The drive sustains itself and the subject’s (your) enjoyment “Jouissance” precisely through the unfulfilled desire. In other words, the unconscious drive does not walk hand in hand with the conscious desire to the desire’s stated object, i.e. that which it claims will fulfil it. On the contrary, the drive sustains itself and a certain perverse enjoyment on the part of the subject, through ensuring that desire’s object always remains unrealised.

The above may be true when applied to the category of desire generally, that seems to be Lacan’s stance. Whether or not this is the case, it certainly is an accurate description of neurotic desire. This is the desire that remains perennially, and sometimes inexplicably, unfulfilled.

What are the implications?

To put things simply, our desires are frequently insincere. A mirage, designed to keep us on a certain treadmill of ineffective actions – relative to the realisation of the desire, self-sabotage and frustration. We “sincerely” believe, or at least convince ourselves, of certain “heartfelt” desires. And yet, in these cases, the desired object/ outcome/experience remains elusively out of reach. On occasion, in our more lucid moments, we may recognise how we, ourselves, act against this realisation of this desire. These insights though are typically not enduring. We soon fall back into our state of wanting, chronic anxiety and perennial anticipation. We rationalise the desire-sabotaging behaviour as something that simply needs to be worked through, opposed, or understood so that it no longer short circuits our desire.

Over time though, it is a good idea to become suspicious of perennially unfulfilled desire. Consider, at least, the possibility that the sincere desire, or more accurately, drive, is the state of desiring itself, more specifically, of the experience of desiring and not having the desire met, of unfulfilled desire.  This is not as strange or counter intuitive as it seems at first. There are certain obvious situations where the Jouissance or enjoyment is in the experience of (as yet) unfulfilled desire. A good example is the enjoyment one derives from eating a really good meal, prior to being full. Once one is full, one’s appetite is satiated, the capacity to enjoy the meal is absent. As long as one remains hungry, one can continue to enjoy the experience of eating. Sex, the register of Jouissance, is the exemplar here. As long as one remains in an amorous state, one can enjoy the experience of love making. But the climax brings with it not only the pinnacle of pleasure but, also, its simultaneous demise, “Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.”[8]

In the cases of appetites, be it for love or food, among others, provided one can skirt addiction, delayed gratification has virtue. This is part of the reasoning behind certain Tantric practices. However, in the case of perennially unfulfilled desire, this is a vice rather than virtue. Here the interminably delayed fulfilment of the desire causes the subject anxiety, shame and recrimination, from others and oneself.

Let me illustrate this idea by way of a personal example.

I am not what one would refer to as a great holiday kind of person. I have seen the ads, read the brochure and even spent time on Trip Advisor. As a kid, back in the day of big budget cinema ads, I drooled, like everyone else, over the amazing time those beautiful people were having on the Mainstay advert. You remember the slogan, “You can stay as you are for the rest of your life, or, you can change to Mainstay.” I wanted to change. Honestly, I did. I couldn’t wait to be old enough to drink Mainstay Cane and then party with those beautiful people in bikinis, on a boat moored just off some tropical island. I’m not perverse that way, I want to be happy and get happy and live happy as much as the next guy. Or, at least, that was certainly the way I thought about myself.

But alas, somewhere between there and here, then and now, the shiny eyed teenage boy and the cantankerous middle-aged man that writes this post, something changed. Not to put too fine a point on it, I fucking hate holidays. And so, it was, I would save up for, plan and go on holidays, suffering the illusion that this would be the source of joy. I guess, to be completely honest, there was some fun in it, which was the planning and anticipation. The holidays themselves though, were, with few exceptions, torture. I simply never had fun, found pleasure or escape or enchantment, in these experiences, these so called “holidays”.

On the contrary, my normally low level of anxiety and misery would skyrocket into a full-blown depression, combined with exponentially increased anxiety; basically, I was all round miserable and much more so than normal.  To make matters worse, as though this wasn’t bad enough on its own, I was mystified at being in this state. If I was even a marginally better Catholic I would have whipped myself every morning and evening with a small, purpose designed, rod (like a little whip in other words). Here I was, spending my hard-earned money, my scarce leave time, surrounded by the people I loved most in the world, and all I prayed every night was for this sojourn into hell to be over sooner rather than later. As soon as the good Lord would permit such a character building mini-crucifixion to be over, that is.

Although I stopped short of this salutary good-Catholic-practice, literal self-flagellation, I psychically indulged in it. I whipped myself for my misery. I was miserable, and the pinnacle of that misery was my shame and sense of inadequacy at my incapacity for a joyful holiday experience. Not only was I miserable, but I was miserable about being miserable!

Subsequently, I learnt from psychoanalysis that this is a universal feature of the human condition, self-judgment about being miserable, about one’s suffering. The moment one enters a process with a group of people, where each confesses his or her personal misery to the group, the relief that washes over everyone present is visible. The liberating insight that suffering is part of the human condition and one is not alienated by it, cut off from his fellow man, but through this connected to a the other as brother to brother, and sister to sister.

Over time and armed with this knowledge and, frankly speaking, permission, it dawned on me that it was not only holidays I hate. My natural disposition is irascible and I hate quite a few things: other people, parties, any social event, small talk, sport, politics, the great outdoors, shopping malls, anyway you get the idea, I won’t go on. The thing of it is though, the rub, is that for many years, decades of my adult life, I lacked this inestimably valuable insight.

This is an example of how the drive-desire dissonance operates. At the conscious explicit level, I believed that the experience was desirable, that it would be the source of joy. Simultaneously, the actual experience was of an absence of the anticipated pleasure. This gap or void is what Lacan speaks of in his work on desire. Desire circumnavigates an empty space. To quote from Žižek, it is “less than nothing”.[9]

What, if anything, can be done about this?

If we consider this as more than merely a commentary of the human condition, a kind of brokenness which does not lend itself to repair but only acceptance, how might we proceed.

What this situation exposes, as mentioned earlier, is a certain insincerity. The drive -desire dissonance reflects a lack of internal transparency, honesty and cohesion. This is indicative of the split between the conscious and unconscious registers of the psyche. Whilst we may aspire to honesty, what we usually mean by this and is limited to the conscious register. Psychoanalysis is the science of identifying this lack of internal cohesion, understanding it and attempting to create synthesis between this pre-existing conscious-unconscious polarity and dissonance. To put this in a nutshell, psychoanalysis is the science of honesty. Taking the aspiration of honesty and applying a self-reflective method to its realisation.

The desire-drive dissonance is a case in point. Treating honesty as a North Star, one approach is to give up the pretence of the stated desire. To stop playing the drive-desire game. The drive and the ongoing behaviour, self-recrimination and compulsion associated with the drive, have enrolled your stated desire as a part of the psychic drama that is acted out. Without this unfulfilled desire, the inner tension and conflict subside. The drive no longer realises the affective response that sustains it. You, the subject, in this case, will experience relief and liberation. Of course, to realise this relief and enact this technique comes as a high price – you need to let go of your desire!  And we do not choose our desires, they choose us. Meaning that they are not easy to let go of.

Often all that sustains us are our desires. In that sense, hope is a tyrannising impulse, it enslaves you.[10] Your life may be crappy, but you live in the hope that once your desire is realised it will be significantly better – worth living or you will be happy or some such idea. Without considering the merits of this aspiration i.e. whether or not you will in fact be happy once your desire is realised, certainly right now you are both unhappy and in a state of perennial anxiety, whilst your desire remains elusively out of reach. Nevertheless, it is a sustaining fiction. One of the ways we identify ourselves is through our hopes, dreams and aspirations. Consequently, I mitigate my brokenness through the fiction of my desire and thereby perpetuate the drive.

The above acknowledged, if you are, through whatever means, able to release yourself from the tyrannising desire you will effectively interrupt the drive and neurosis. You will create reflective space and free up libido that can be used to creatively re-imagine and reconstitute your identity and narrative.  One possible foothold to achieve this, is to reflect on the justification for the desire. Often – Lacan would say, always – our desires are imposed upon us by others. In other words, consider carefully the merits of the justification for your desire. You may find in some cases that the desire itself is based on a flawed premise or set of premises. One should not be convinced something is right, simply because you want it. Returning to earlier example of the desire to be happy whilst on holiday. Liberating myself from that demand has brought me significant relief, and ironically, made me much happier! I do not think this is atypical, and without offering any guarantees, suggest that your relief, should you liberate yourself for the tyrannising desire, will be similar.

I will leave it there. Unlike those television documentaries where you are admonished -do not try this at home! I encourage you to try this at home, or on holiday, or in your relationships, wherever you are in the grips of the drive -desire dissonance.


[1] 1856 – 1939; the founder of psychoanalysis and mentor for a time to Jung. Referred to as the “the inventor of the modern mind” (Kramer, 2006), for the ubiquitous assimilation of psychoanalytic theory and concepts in 20th century culture.

[2] In psychology, a drive theory or drive doctrine is a theory that attempts to define, analyze, or classify the psychological drives. A drive is an “excitatory state produced by a homeostatic disturbance”, an instinctual need that has the power of driving the behaviour of an individual.
Drive theory is based on the principle that organisms are born with certain psychological needs and that a negative state of tension is created when these needs are not satisfied. When a need is satisfied, drive is reduced and the organism returns to a state of homeostasis and relaxation. According to the theory, drive tends to increase over time and operates on a feedback control system, much like a thermostat. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drive_theory

[3] “In psychology and the natural sciences, instinct is the inherent inclination of a living organism towards natural instinctive behaviour that is a ‘fixed’ pattern of response. A sequence of actions without variation, carried out in response to a stimulus.” (Erwin, 2002)

[4] Freud, 1920, ‘Beyond the pleasure principle’.

[5] (Brenner, 2008, 708)

[6] 1901 – 1981, Jacques Marie Émile Lacan was a French psychoanalyst and psychiatrist who has been called “the most controversial psycho-analyst since Freud”. Significant work also being done on drive theory by Donald Winnicott, specifically, objects relation theory, which is a more socialised, inter-subjective, view of drive theory.

[7] “The subject not only continuously moves towards an object to satisfy its unmet needs and contain its anxiety, it does so precisely because it lacks an object that could satisfy it.” (Demir)

[8] The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action; and till action, lust
Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
Enjoy’d no sooner but despised straight,
Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
Past reason hated, as a swallow’d bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
Mad in pursuit and in possession so;
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;
A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;
Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. (Shakespeare, sonnet, 129).
A sonnet my late teacher, Chatilon Coque, had me read aloud a good 100 times!

[9] Žižek, 2012, Less than Nothing: Hegel and the shadow of Dialectical Materialism

[10] My favourite stand-up comedian has to be Louis C K. He plays on this idea in one of his skits. What keeps us going in certain intolerable situations, how bad do things need to get before you take your own life. Like, don’t complain that much, there is always another option. Nothing is actually necessity if you let go of the demand that one must live no matter what.

Saturday, October 7, 2017

The Scarab and the Fox: How Jung Navigated by Synchronicity

Jung’s life practice of paying attention to coincidence and symbolic popups in the world around us is a model of how to navigate by synchronicity.
 
    In his work with patients, he paid close attention to the interplay of dreams and signs from the world. He was encouraged to do this by his celebrated breakthrough work with a female patient who had been seriously blocked until she dreamed of a scarab, the dung beetle of the Nile Valley. Despite its lowly origins, the scarab was one of the most important Egyptian symbols of rebirth and transformation; it had been deified as Khepri and was placed over the heart of the soul traveler to guide journeys beyond the body and beyond death. 

    As the woman discussed her dream with Jung, a flying beetle known as a rose chafer appeared at the window. It was the nearest match for the Egyptian scarab you could hope to find in Europe, and as the patient’s eyes widened in recognition, she experienced a sense of confirmation of her dream and the work she was doing with Jung that carried her to deep healing.
 
     When he saw patients in his house at Küsnacht, on Lake Zurich,, he liked to sit so that they both faced the garden, the poplars at the edge of the lake, and the water beyond, noticing what the world was saying.  He found significance in every shift in the environment — a sudden wind whipping up the lake water, the shape of a cloud, the cry of a bird.
     He was especially intrigued by how animals or birds sometimes seemed to participate in a human exchange.  On one occasion, he walked in his garden with a woman patient. As they wandered beyond the garden into light woods, she was talking about the first dream of her life that had major impact on her; she said it made an “everlasting” impression. “I am in my childhood home,” she recalled, “and a spectral fox is coming down the stairs.” She paused and put her hand on Jung’s arm, because at this moment a real fox trotted out of the trees, less than forty yards in front of them. The fox padded softly along the path in front of them for several minutes.  Jung noted that "the animal behaved as if it were a partner in the human situation.”
 
     Jung’s willingness to trust an unexpected incident — and accept it immediately as guidance for action — was evident in a meeting he had with Henry Fierz, who visited him in hopes of persuading him to support the publication of a manuscript by a recently deceased scientist. Jung had reservations about the book and opposed publication. The conversation became increasingly strained, and Jung looked at his watch, evidently getting ready to tell his guest he was out of time. Jung frowned when he saw the time.
 
     “What time did you come?” he demanded of his visitor.
 
     “At five o’clock, as agreed.”
 
     Jung’s frown deepened. He explained that his watch had just been repaired, and should be keeping impeccable time. But it showed 5:05, and surely Fierz had been with him for much longer. “What time do you have?”
 
    “Five thirty-five,” his visitor told him.
 
    “Since you have the right time and I have the wrong time,” Jung allowed, “I must think again.”
 
     He then changed his mind and supported publication of the book.

Saturday, April 1, 2017

Jung: It is only through the psyche that we can establish that God acts upon us…

It is only through the psyche that we can establish that God acts upon us, but we are unable to distinguish whether these actions emanate from God or from the unconscious.

We cannot tell whether God and the unconscious are two different entities.

Both are border-line concepts for transcendental contents.

But empirically it can be established, with a sufficient degree of probability, that there is in the unconscious an archetype of wholeness which manifests itself spontaneously in dreams, etc., and a tendency, independent of the conscious will, to relate other archetypes to this center.

Consequently, it does not seem improbable that the archetype of wholeness occupies as such a central position which approximates it to the God-image.

The similarity is further borne out by the peculiar fact that the archetype produces a symbolism which has always characterized and expressed the Deity.

These facts make possible a certain qualification of our above thesis concerning the indistinguishableness of God and the unconscious.

Strictly speaking, the God-image does not coincide with the unconscious as such, but with a special content of it, namely the archetype of the self.

It is this archetype from which we can no longer distinguish the God-image empirically.

We can arbitrarily postulate a difference between these two entities, but that does not help us at all.
On the contrary, it only helps us to separate man from God, and prevents God from becoming man.
Faith is certainly right when it impresses on man’s mind and heart how infinitely far away and inaccessible God is; but it also teaches his nearness, his immediate presence, and it is just this nearness which has to be empirically real if it is not to lose all significance.

Only that which acts upon me do I recognize as real and actual.

But that which has no effect upon me might as well not exist.

The religious need longs for wholeness, and therefore lays hold of the images of wholeness offered by the unconscious, which, independently of the conscious mind, rise up from the depths of our psychic nature.

 ~Carl Jung, Psychology and Religion, Paragraph 757

On Divination and Synchronicity: The Psychology of Meaningful Chance Studies in Jungian Psychology

On Divination and Synchronicity : The Psychology of Meaningful Chance Studies in Jungian Psychology by Marie Louise Von Franz.

Lecture 1

You may perhaps know of the amusing fact that originally divination was always practiced in churches. The old Jews, for instance, had a divination oracle in their sanctuaries in Jerusalem and on certain occasions when the priest wanted to consult Yahweh he tried through such oracles to discover the will of God. In all primitive civilizations divination techniques have been used to find out what God, or the gods, want, but in time this has been discontinued and outgrown; it has become a dark, magical, and despised practice, but today this lecture is being given in the (parish church), a nice little synchronicity.

The view of the world which Jung tried to bring back into focus, and on which divination basically rests, is that of synchronicity; therefore before we go into details about the problems of divination we have to remember what Jung said about synchronicity. In his Foreword to the English edition of Richard Wilhelm’s translation of The I Ching or Book of Changes, he gives a very good summary of the difference between causal and synchronistic thinking. Causal thinking is, so to speak, lineal. There is a sequence of events A, B, C, D, and you think backwards and wonder why D appears because of C, why C appears because of B, and why B because of A, like some kind of inner or outer event. One tries to trace back in one’s mind why these coordinate effects have worked.

We know that through the investigations of modern physicists it has now been proved that on the microphysical level this principle is no longer completely valid; we can no longer think of causality as absolute law, but only as a tendency or prevailing probability. So causality is shown to be a way of thinking which satisfies our mental grasp of a cluster of physical events, but does not complete ly get at the core of natural laws, it only delineates general trends or possibilities. Synchronistic thinking, on the other hand, one could call field thinking, the center of which is time.

Time also comes into causality since we normally think that the cause comes before the effect. In modern physics it sometimes looks as if the effect came before the cause, and therefore they try to turn it round and say that you could still call that causal; but I think Jung is right in saying that that is enlarging and twisting the idea of causality ad absurdum so far that it loses its meaning. Normally, cause always comes before effect, so there also is a lineal idea of time, before and after, with the effect always after the before.

Synchronistic thinking, the classic way of thinking in China, is thinking in fields, so to speak. In Chinese philosophy such thinking has been developed and differentiated much more than in any other civilization; there the question is not why has this come about, or what factor caused this effect, but what likes to happen together in a meaningful way in the same moment? The Chinese always ask: “What tends to happen together in time?” So the center of their field concept would be a time moment on which are clustered the events A, B, C, D, and so on (Figure 1).

Figure 1.: Field of time (time-bound ensemble of events).

Richard Wilhelm puts it very well in his Introduction to the I Ching where he speaks of the complex of events which occur at a certain time moment.

In our causal thinking we have made a big separation between psychic events and physical events, and we only watch to see how physical events produce, or have a causal effect upon, each other and on psychological events. Right up to the 19th century the idea still persisted in the sciences (and it still does in those less developed) that only physical causes have physical effects and psychic causes psychological effects; for instance, Freud’s way of thinking: “This woman is neurotic and has an idiosyncrasy as the result of a childhood trauma.” That would be the same kind of thinking but transposed onto the psychological level.

The question now being asked is whether there are interactions between those two lines. Is there something like a psychic cause for physical events and vice versa? That is a problem of psychosomatic medicine. Interactions between those two chains of causality can be proved: you may read a letter saying that somebody you loved very much has died, and get physiological effects; you may even faint, a reaction caused not by the ink and the paper, but by the psychic content of the communication. There is a causal interaction between those two lines which one is only now beginning to investigate.

The synchronistic, i.e., the Chinese way of thinking, however, is completely different. It is a differentiation of primitive thinking in which no difference has ever been made between psychological and physical facts. In their question as to what likes to occur together, one can bring in both inner and outer facts. For the synchronistic way of thinking it is even essential to watch both areas of reality, the physical and the psychic, and to notice that at the moment when one had these and these thoughts or these and these dreams which would be psychological events such and such outer physical events happened; i.e., there was a complex of physical and psychological events. Though causal thinking also poses the problem of time in some form because of the before and after, the problem of time is much more central in the synchronistic way of thinking because there it is the key moment a certain moment in time which is the uniting fact, the focal point for the observation of this complex of events.

In modern Western science, algebraic means are used to describe the probabilities of the sequence of events algebraic matrices of different forms and algebraic functions and curves. The Chinese also use mathematics for the description of their laws of synchronicity. They use something like mathematical matrices but not algebraic abstractions; they use the individual natural integers (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7), so one could say that the mathematics of this Chinese way of thinking would be the different qualifications one can draw from the series of natural integers, the common laws which one can abstract from them. One uses the 3, 4, and 5 to grasp a cluster of events in a mathematical form.
The basis of the science of mathematics, or the scientific mathematics of synchronistic thinking, is therefore the series of natural integers, and one finds that in all techniques of divination. The simplest form of divination is the binary: hit or miss. One throws a coin and gets heads or tails and accordingly decides whether one will go or not to the Rigi, or whichever direction you are undetermined about. Hit or miss is the basic idea of all divination but in different civilizations there are differentiated techniques by which to read the situation better at a certain time moment.
The Western way of thinking is an extraverted orientation, namely first to look at the events and then to abstract a mathematical model. The Eastern, or Chinese way, is to use an intuitive mental model to read the event, namely natural integers. They turn first to the event of throwing heads or tails, that is a psychic and a psycho-physical event. The question of the diviner is psychic, while the event is that the coin falls either heads or tails, from which the further outer and inner events can be read. So it is an outlook completely complementary to ours.

What is important in China, as Jung also pointed out in his essay called ”Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle,” is that the Chinese did not get stuck, like many other primitive civilizations do, into using divination methods only to predict the future whether for instance one should marry or not. One asks the priest and he says: “No, you won’t” or you will “get her.” That is something practised all over the world, not only officially but by many people quite silently in their rooms
when they lay Tarot cards, etc., or they have little rituals: “If today the sun shines, then I’ll do such and such a thing.” Man constantly thinks that way and even scientists have these little superstitions, telling themselves that because the sun shone into their room when they got up they knew that today this and this would come off right. Even if one discards it in one’s conscious Weltanschauung, the primitive man in us constantly uses this kind of prognostication of the future with the left hand, so to speak, and then shamefacedly denies it to his rationalistic brother, though he is much relieved to discover that the other does that too! In this stage divination cannot evolve and become differentiated; it remains a kind of primitive guessing technique, trying to guess the future by some technical means.
That is practiced, as I say, by us and more openly in all primitive civilizations. If one wants to travel in Africa one goes to a medicine man who throws a few chicken bones, and according to the way they fall, whether more into the red or the white section he has drawn on the ground, and in what constellation, he will say whether the journey will be successful or not, and whether to go or not. Before any big enterprise, such as hunting or making a long dangerous journey to Johannesburg, or whatever it is, one first always consults such an oracle and then acts accordingly. We do the same thing more secretly but in both cases I’ll mention some exceptions later it is not built into the Weltanschauung and therefore remains a kind of undeveloped primitive practice, a ritual game, so to speak, which we tend not to integrate into our conscious view of reality.

The Chinese, like all primitive civilizations, still had this primitive technique until it was forbidden. In the market place of every Chinese town there were a few I Ching priests who would throw coins for you or take the yarrow stalks, and get answers to your questions, but then it was forbidden. In 1960 Mao thought of slightly releasing the rationalistic political pressure on the masses and found out that there were two possibilities: either to give more rice, or to allow the use of the I Ching, and all those whom he consulted told him that the people were more eager to use the I Ching again than to get more food. Spiritual food, and the I Ching was their spiritual food, was more important to them, so it was allowed for I think one or two years and then he strangled it again. It is very typical for the Chinese that even a bowl of rice and they are very hungry was less important than again to have their beloved Book of Changes and its spiritual orientation.

The great merit of the I Ching is due to two remarkable geniuses, namely the legendary King Wên and the Duke of Chou, who developed what was originally a primitive oracle system into a complete philosophic Weltanschauung. They treated the oracle and its ethical consequences philosophically; they thought about its psychological consequences and presuppositions and through that it has in China become the basis of a very deep and very broad Weltanschauung. Jung writes in his paper on synchronicity that this has happened only in China, but I chanced to discover that it has also happened in Western Nigeria. There were certain medicine men there who by their oracle technique geomancy in their case developed a whole religious philosophy, naturally slightly more primitive than the Chinese one, but also a complete religious and philosophical viewpoint about the oracle, not using it just as a prognostication technique.

Those are the two instances of which I know. There is probably a third, but I have not been able to get hold of the material; as far as I can find out only one paper has been written on it, but I cannot get hold of it anywhere. The old Mayan civilization which, as has become more and more evident, is dependent on central Asia and therefore linked up with the Chinese civilization, also had an I Ching type of oracle technique, and I would guess from the quality of their civilization that they also had a philosophical outlook and viewpoint about it and that it was not just a left hand prognostication technique. One man, Schultze-Jena, published a small paper on it, but though I have been chasing that for two years I cannot find it anywhere in Switzerland, and as far as I know the author only writes of the techniques of the Mayan oracle and not of its philosophical background.
We can, however, do some guessing about this because in Mayan philosophy all the gods were time and number gods. All the main figures of the Mayan myths have a specific number which is even expressed in their names. The greatest hero, for instance, is Hunabku the name comes from Hun, meaning one and then there is the great hero Seven Hunter; every great god is both a number and a time moment in the calender year. So there is a union of an archetypal figure with a certain time moment and a certain natural integer. This gives a hint that probably the Mayan oracle was philosophically linked with that kind of view, but as I say I have not yet found any details on it.
Let us therefore stay for the moment with the Chinese way of thinking. There is an excellent book on this by the sociologist Marcel Granet, La Pensée Chinoise, who says that the Chinese never thought in quantities but always in terms of qualitative emblems. Jung would have said “symbols,” and I will use that term so as to make it simpler for us. According to the Chinese, numbers describe regular relationships of events and things, exactly as they do for us. We try with mathematical algebraic formulae to describe regular relationships. As a category, causality is the idea for discovering such relationships, and for the Chinese too, numbers express the regular relationship of things not in their quantitative way, but in their qualitative hierarchy they qualify the concrete orderedness of things. We could not disagree with that for it is more or less the same as with us, except that their accent is on the quality level.

But it goes further in China, where they believe that the universe probably has an ultimate basic numerical rhythm. The same question arises with us now, for in modern physics it is thought that one might possibly find one basic rhythm of the universe which would explain all the different phenomena, but for us that is at present just a kind of speculative idea held by some modern physicists. The Chinese simply assumed that this rhythm of all reality existed, that it was a number pattern, and that all relationships of things with each other in all areas of outer and inner life therefore mirror this same basic number pattern in a form conceived as a rhythm.

Until the end of the 19th century, the Chinese also had a much more energetic and dynamic outlook on the world than we had, believing that everything was energy in flux. Actually we now think the same but we arrived at the idea much later and by scientific means. Their primary assumption from all time was that everything is outwardly and inwardly a flux of energy, which follows certain basic and recurring numerical rhythms. In all areas of events one would always finally arrive at this mirror image, the basic rhythm a matrix of the cosmos. For those who are not so mathematically minded, a matrix is any regular array of numbers in several columns; there may be any number of rows and columns, but always in a rectangular arrangement.

For the Chinese one of the basic matrices, or arrangements of the universe, was a quadrangular matrix a magic square called the Lo Shou (Figure 2), which sets the basic rhythm. It is a so-called magic square because whichever way you add up the figures the result is always 15, and it is also the only magic square which has only three elements in each row or column. So it is really a mathematically unique thing.

There are many magic squares with more rows and more possibilities of addition, but the simplest is this one and it has only eight solutions. I would say it is one of the most highly symmetrical number matrices to be found in arithmetic. The Chinese discovered it intuitively and for them it represented a basic mirror or rhythmic image of the universe seen in its time aspect. I will return to that later.
The Chinese had two ideas or aspects of time: namely timeless time or eternity, unchanging eternity, with superimposed on it cyclic time. We live normally, with our consciousness, in cyclic time, according to Chinese ideas, but there is an eternal time une durée créatrice, to use an expression of Bergson’s underneath, which sometimes interferes with the other. Ordinary Chinese time is cyclical and follows this pattern.

They arranged the innermost chambers of their imperial palace on such a pattern; also all musical instruments were tuned according to it, all dances and all protocol, as well as what a Mandarin and what a commoner had to do at the funeral of his father. In every detail this number pattern always played a role, because it was thought to be the basic rhythm of reality; therefore in different variations in music, in protocol, in architecture, everywhere this same pattern was always put in the center.
The underlying numerical order of eternity is called the Ho-tou (Figure 3), a mandala and also a cross. There is again 5 in the middle. One counts 1, 2, 3, 4, and then moves to the middle 5, then 6, 7, 8, 9, and then back to 10 10 would really be in the middle. One must always cross and come back to the middle. Actually it is the movement of a musical dance because it always emanates into four and contracts into the middle it has a systole and diastole movement. The Lo Shou is the world of time in which we live, and underneath is always the eternity rhythm, the Ho-tou. That idea underlay the whole cultural and scientific application of mathematics in China. Let us compare it with our viewpoint.

I want to read you in detail what the well-known mathematician, Hermann Weyl, says about it in his book Philosophy of Mathematics and Natural Science. You know that until about 1930 the great and passionate occupation of most mathematicians was the discussion of the fundamentals. They hoped, as has been the fashion nowadays, to rediscuss the fundamentals of all science. But the famous German mathematician, David Hilbert, created a new construction of the whole building of mathematics, so to speak, and hoped that this would contain no internal contradictions.
There would be a few basic axioms on which one could build up all branches of mathematics: topology, geometry, algebra, and so on; it was to be a big building with solid foundations in a few axioms. That was in 1926, and Hilbert was even bold enough to say: “I think that with my theory the discussion of fundamentals has been forever removed from mathematics.”

Then in 1931 came another very famous mathematician, Kurt Goedel, who took a few of those basic axioms and showed that one could reach complete contradictions with them: starting from the same axioms, one could prove something and its complete opposite. In other words, he showed that the basic axioms contain an irrational factor which could not be eliminated. Nowadays in mathematics one must not say that obviously this is so-and-so, and that therefore that and that is also so, but: “I assume that it is so-and-so, and if so then that and that follows.” The axioms must be presented as assumptions, or must be postulated, after which a logical deduction can be made, but one cannot infer that what has been assumed or postulated could not be contradicted or doubted as an absolute truth.
In order to make such assumptions, mathematics are generally formulated in such terms as: “It is self-evident,” or “It is reasonable to think” that is how mathematicians posit an axiom nowadays, and from there they build up. From then on there is no contradiction, only one conclusion is possible, but in ”it is reasonable to assume,” that is where the dog lies buried, as we say. Goedel showed that, and thus threw over the whole thing. Strangely enough that did not reopen the discussion of fundamentals. From then on, as Weyl says, nobody touched that problem, they just felt awkward and scratched behind their ears and said, “Don’t let’s discuss fundamentals, there’s nothing doing: it is reasonable to assume, we cannot go beyond that,” and there the situation rests today.
Weyl, however, went through a very interesting development. At first he was very much attracted by the physicist, Werner Heisenberg. He was very much of a Pythagorean and was attracted by the numinosity and irrationality of natural integers. Then he became fascinated by David Hilbert, and in the middle of his life had a period during which he became more and more attracted by Hilbertian logic and dropped the problem of numbers, treating them, erroneously as I think, as simply posited quantities.

He says, for instance, that natural integers are just as though one took a stick and made a row of marks, which one then named conventionally; there was nothing more behind them, they were simply posited by the human mind and there was nothing mysterious about them; it was “reasonable and self-evident” that one could do that. But at the end of his life he added (only to the German edition of his book on the philosophy of mathematics, and shortly before his death) this passage:
The beautiful hope we had of freeing the world of the discussion of fundamentals was destroyed by Kurt Goedel in 1931 and the ultimate basis and real meaning of mathematics are still an open problem. Perhaps one makes mathematics as one does music and it is just one of man’s creative activities, and though the idea of an existing completely transcendental world is the basic principle of all formalism, each mathematical formalism has at every step the characteristics of being incomplete [which means that every mathematical theory is consistent in itself but is incomplete, at the borders are questions which are not self-evident, are not clear, and are incomplete] in so far as there are always problems, even of a simple arithmetical nature, which can be formulated in the frame of a formalism, but which cannot be decided by deduction within the formalism itself.
That is put in a mathematician’s complicated way; put simply, it means that I daresay it is self-evident, by which I posit something irrational, because it is not self-evident. Now one could make an uroboros movement and say: “But from my deduction I can reprove my beginning.” You cannot! You cannot from the deductive formalism afterwards deduce a proof,except by a tautology, which naturally is not allowed, even in mathematics.

We are therefore not surprised that in an isolated phenomenal existence a piece of nature surprises us by its irrationality and that one cannot analyse it completely. As we have seen, physics therefore projects everything which exists onto the background of possibility or probability.
That is important because it sums up in one word what modern science does. In other words, any fragment of phenomenal existence, let us say these spectacles, contains something irrational which one cannot exhaust in physical analysis. Why the electrons of these millions and millions of atoms of which my spectacles consist are in this place and not in another, I cannot explain; therefore through physics, when it comes to a single event in nature, there is no completely valid explanation.
The single event is always irrational, but in physics one proceeds by projecting this onto the background of a possible, i.e., one makes a matrix. For instance, in these spectacles there are so many atoms and so many particles of them, and so on, and out of a whole group one can make a mathematical formula in which one could even count the particles not 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, but by projecting onto the background of what is possible. That is why these matrices are nowadays used in engineering and so on, because one can cope with the uncountable; they provide an instrument with which to cope with the things which cannot be counted singly. Weyl says:
It is not surprising that any bit of nature we may choose [these spectacles or anything] has an ultimate irrational factor which we cannot and never will explain and that we can only describe it, as in physics, by projecting it onto the background of the possible.

But then he continues:

But it is very surprising that something which the human mind has created itself, namely the series of whole natural integers [I told you that he has this erroneous idea that the human mind created 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, by making dots], and which is so absolutely simple and transparent to the constructive spirit, also contains an aspect of something abysmal which we cannot grasp.

That is the confession of one of the most remarkable because one of the most philosophically oriented modern mathematicians, Hermann Weyl. We can naturally say that we do not believe what he believed, namely that the natural integers simply represent the naming of posited dots, therefore to us it is not surprising that natural integers are abysmal and beyond our grasp. He believed that, and that is why he could not understand. It is incredible that it should be so, but it is so; in other words, because the natural integers have something irrational (he called it abysmal) the fundamentals of mathematics are not solid, because the whole of mathematics is ultimately based on the givenness of the series of natural integers.

Now precisely because numbers are irrational and abysmal to quote Weyl they are a good instrument with which to grasp something irrational. If one uses numbers to grasp the irrational, one uses irrational means to get hold of something irrational, and that is the basis of divination. They took those irrational, abysmal numbers which nobody has so far understood, and tried to guess reality, or their connection with reality but into the divination problem there also enters the problem of time.
Divination has to do with synchronicity, and Jung has in so many words called the synchronistic phenomena para-psychological phenomena. I want you to keep that in mind because, as you know, in modern science physicists and psychologists are now trying to find the union of physics and psychology in the area of para-psychological phenomena. They have a hunch, or guess, that para-psychological phenomena might give us a clue to the union of physis and psyche. Now in divination, and I am here referring specifically to number divination, one would therefore also have to deal with the para-psychological phenomenon, which at the same time is linked up with the number. Jung has called number the most primitive expression of the spirit and so we have now to go into what we understand, from the psychological standpoint, by the word spirit.
Jung, in trying to specify how he uses the word spirit, first quotes a lot of colloquial terms in which spirit is used as something like a non-material substance, or as the opposite of matter.* We also generally use the word spirit to indicate something that is a cosmic principle, but we use the same word when we speak of certain of man’s psychological psychic capacities or activities like the intellect, or the capacity to think, or reason. For instance, one could say: “He has a spiritual outlook,” or “This idea comes from a distorted spirit,” or something like that. Again we use the word as a collective phenomenon such as in the word Zeitgeist which is now generally not even translated into English it is a German term to express the irrational fact that each period of time has a certain spirit.
For instance, the Renaissance had a certain spirit as illustrated in its art, its technology, mathematics, and religious outlook everywhere. All these phenomena which characterize the 16th century could be summed up as the spirit of the Renaissance. In that sense the word is simply used as a collective phenomenon, the sum of ideas common to many people. One could also speak of the spirit of Marxism or of National Socialism, when it would be the common collective ideas of a whole group. There is therefore, Jung continues, a certain opposition between a spirit, which has a kind of extra-human existence outside man the cosmic spirit as opposed to the matter of the cosmos and something which we experience as an activity of the human ego.

If we say of somebody that he has a distorted spirit, that means his ego complex is working intellectually in a wrong way. Jung therefore continues: If something psychic, or psychological (i.e., a psychological event) happens in the individual and he has the feeling that it belongs to him, then he calls it his spirit for instance which, by the way, would be quite wrong, but which many people do. If I suddenly had the idea of giving you a good example, then I would feel that it was my good idea, my spirit produced it. If something psychological happens which seems strange to the individual, then it is called a spirit, in the sense of something like a ghost, and then one experiences it as possession.
Let us assume that suddenly I felt impelled to keep saying, “the geraniums are blue,” “the geraniums are blue,” “the geraniums are blue.” Then, because that would be crazy, and seem to me quite strange compared with what I am now doing here, I would say: “My God, what devil, or ghost, put such a crazy idea into my head, it is possessing me and making me talk nonsense!”

If it were a good idea then I’d follow it right through! Now primitives are more honest: everything which comes to them unexpectedly from within they call spirit; not only that which is bad and which possesses one, but anything of which they would say: ”My ego did not make it, it suddenly came to me” that is spirit. In the latter case, when the spirit is still outside, when I get possessed by having to say or do something which seems not to belong to my ego, then it is a projected aspect of my unconscious; it is a part of my unconscious psyche which is projected and then experienced as a para-psychological phenomenon.

That happens when you get into a state in which you are not yourself, or into an emotional upset where you lose control of yourself, but afterwards wake up completely sober and look at the stupid things you did during your possessed state and wonder what got into you: something got hold of you, you weren’t yourself, though while you were behaving like that you thought you were it was just as if an evil spirit or the devil had got into you.

These things one must not just take in a kind of colloquial amusing way, but quite literally, for a devil or we would say, more neutrally, an autonomous complex temporarily replaces the ego complex; it feels like the ego at the time, but it isn’t, for afterwards, when dissociated from it, one cannot understand how one came to do or think such things.

One of the main ways in which we use the word spirit is in speaking of the inspiring, vivifying aspect of the unconscious. Now we know that for the ego complex to get in touch with the unconscious has a vivifying and inspiring effect, and that is really the basis of all our therapeutic efforts. Sometimes neurotic people, who have become closed up in their neurotic vicious circle, as soon as they go into analysis and have dreams, get excited and interested in the dreams and then the water of life flows again; they once more have an interest and therefore are suddenly more alive and more efficient. Then somebody may say: “What has happened to you? You have come alive again” but that only happens if the individual succeeds in making contact with the unconscious, or one could say “with the dynamism of the unconscious,” and especially with its vivifying, inspiring aspect.

Jung therefore defines spirit, from the psychological angle, as the dynamic aspect of the unconscious. One can think of the unconscious as being like still water, a lake which is passive. The things one forgets fall into that lake; if one remembers them one fishes them up but it itself does not move. The unconscious has that matrix, womb aspect, but it also has the aspect of containing dynamism and movement, it acts on its own accord for instance, it composes dreams. One could say that composing dreams while one sleeps is an aspect of the spirit; some master spirit or mind composes a most ingenious series of pictures which, if one can decipher them, seem to convey a highly intelligent message.

That is a dynamic manifestation of the unconscious, where the unconscious energetically does something on its own, it moves and creates on its own, and that is what Jung defines as spirit. There is naturally an unclear borderline between the subjective and the objective; but in practice if one feels that it belongs to one then it is one’s own spirit, and if one does not feel it belongs to one, then one calls it the spirit, or a spirit. That depends on whether one feels akin or not akin to it, close to it or not close to it.

Jung sums up by saying that spirit contains a spontaneous psychic principle of movement and activity; secondly, that it has the quality of freely creating images beyond our sense perception (in a dream one has no sense perception the spirit or the unconscious creates images from within, while the sense perceptions are asleep); and thirdly, there is an autonomous and sovereign manipulation of those images.

Those are the three characteristics of what Jung calls the spirit, or the dynamism of the unconscious. It is spontaneously active, it freely creates images beyond sensual perceptions, and it autonomously and in a sovereign manner manipulates those images. If one looks at one’s dreams, one sees that they are composed of impressions from the day before. For instance, one read something in a paper, or experienced something in the street, or talked to Mrs. So-and-So, and so on. The dream takes these fragments and makes a completely new and meaningful potpourri out of that.

There one sees the sovereign manipulation of the pictures: they are put into another order and manipulated into a completely different sequence with a completely different meaning, though one still recognizes that the single elements have been taken from, for instance, memory remnants of the day before. That is why many people think that is the whole explanation of the dream: “Oh, I read about a fire yesterday in the paper, that is why I dreamt about a fire,” and then one has to begin, as always, by saying: “Yes, but look at the connections in which the fire has been put, very different from what you read.” That would be the spirit, that unknown thing in the unconscious which rearranges and manipulates inner images.

This factor which produces and manipulates inner images is completely autonomous in primitive man, but through the differentiation of consciousness it slowly comes closer to consciousness, and therefore in contrast to primitives we say we do it in part. For instance, we often say that we have a good idea or we invent something new. A primitive man would never say that a bow and arrow, for instance, were his invention he would say that the way to construct a bow and arrow was revealed to him by the bow and arrow god, and then tell an origin myth, of how to a certain hunter his divinity appeared in a dream or vision and revealed to him how to make a bow and arrow.

So the larger our consciousness is, and the more it develops, the more we get hold of certain aspects of the spirit of the unconscious, draw it into our subjective sphere, and then call it our own psychic activity or our own spirit. But, as Jung points out, a great part of the original phenomenon remains naturally autonomous and therefore still is experienced as a para-psychological phenomenon. In other words, we must not assume that at our present stage of consciousness, where we have assimilated more than a certain amount of the spirit of the unconscious and made it our own i.e., made it the possession of the ego complex so that the ego complex can manipulate it that we have the whole thing. There is still an enormous area of that spirit which manifests as it did originally, completely autonomously, and therefore as a para-psychological phenomenon, as it does among primitive people.
If one looks at the history of mathematics one can see very clearly how the spirit becomes subjective. For instance, the natural integers or numbers, as you probably all know, were for the Pythagorean s cosmic divine principles which constituted the basic structure of the universe. They were gods, divinities, and at the same time the basic structural principle of all existence. Even Leopold Kronecker still said that the natural numbers were the invention of the Godhead and that everything else was man’s handiwork.

Nowadays, in this time of so-called enlightenment where everything irrational and the word God anyhow is thrown out of human science, a real attempt has been made in formalistic mathematics to define number in a form which would exclude all irrational elements, with the definition of numbers as a series of marks (1, 2, 3, 4, 5) and a creation of the human mind. Now the spirit is seemingly owned by the ego complex, the mathematician’s ego owns and created numbers! That is what Weyl believed, and that is why he said: “I cannot understand that something completely simple which the human mind has created suddenly contains something abysmal.” He should only have asked whether the human mind had really created them. He feels as if he were now manipulating the phenomenon completely, but that is not true.

Primitives, if they have twenty horses, cannot count the horses themselves but they use twenty sticks and then they say, one stick, one horse, two sticks, two horses, three sticks, three horses, and then they count the sticks and with them they can count the number of horses. That is a very, very widespread way in which man learned to count. We still do it on our fingers if somebody enumerates things, we point to our fingers, using them as a “helping quantity.” All counting began with the helping quantity. When man first could count something and then had to count more, he used his fingers; or in many, many primitive civilizations they use dots or counting sticks and then when something has to be counted sticks are put down and counted and that is the helping quantity.
Thus if we do what Hermann Weyl did we simply go back to that primitive way, we count the helping quantity; but that is only an action of the human mind, not the numbers themselves. To make such helping sticks or dots is an activity of ego consciousness by which one can count; it is a construction of the human mind but the number itself is not, and there is the great error.

So we have to turn back and say, Yes, numbers have an aspect in which they are entities which the human mind can posit and manipulate. We can assume a certain amount of numbers, an arithmetical law, a situation, and that can be manipulated completely freely and arbitrarily, according to our ego wishes, but we manipulate only the derivative; the original thing which inspired one to make counting sticks and so arrive at the number of horses, for instance, that idea one has not got hold of, it is still autonomous, it still belongs to the creative spirit of the unconscious, so to speak.
At the time of Weyl, therefore, one simply discarded the study of single numbers because one always stumbled over something completely simple and queer: one had just posited four dots, and then suddenly those four dots developed qualities which one had not posited. In order to get away from that awkward situation and keep up the illusion that numbers were something one had posited and could manipulate with one’s conscious mind, Weyl says: “The single numbers are not emphasized in mathematics but one projects them by a specific procedure onto the background of infinite possibilities and then copes with them that way.”

That is what most modern mathematicians do. They simply take the theory of natural integers, from one to N, and cope with it as a whole; they say simply that is the series of natural integers which has certain qualities for instance every number has a predecessor, a successor, a position, and a ratio. One knows that as a whole, and then one can construct other mathematics with complex and irrational numbers, etc. One then derives much higher forms, always of types (one could say of numbers), and one deals with that simply as what the mathematician calls a class, ignoring the seven, the fifteen and the 335 in it.

Therefore one deals with an algebraic idea and only with those qualities which are common to all natural integers. With those one can build a lot, but more or less, as Weyl says, “ignore the single integer.” Mathematicians are very honest people; they never deny that the single number has irrational, individual qualities, they are simply not interested. Poincare, for instance, is even more honest, he says that all natural integers are irrational individuals, but that is exactly why one cannot make many general theories in number theory about them, and why they are not very prolific for mathematics. They are not very useful, because there are too many single cases and not enough generalities from which one can make a theorem. That was Poincare’s viewpoint, he did not say it was not interesting, but that we do not like it so much because one cannot make theorems out of it. We would have to pay attention to the single case and that we do not like as mathematicians, because temperamentally we prefer to make general theories which are generally valid.

Therefore in the history of mathematics one can very clearly see what Jung characterized as the general development of the human mind: that anything which we now call our subjective spirit, including our mental activities in science, was once the objective spirit that means the inspiring movement of the unconscious psyche but with the development of consciousness, we have got hold of a part that we now manipulate and call our own, behaving as if it were something which we completely possess. That has happened in the whole development of mathematics: from numbers being gods, they have been desecrated into being something which is arbitrarily posited by a mathematician’s ego. But the mathematicians are honest enough to say: “No, that is not the whole of it, strangely enough there are things which I wanted and have had which still slip and do things which they ought not to do, they have not become the slaves of our consciousness completely.”

A parallel development has happened in the history of physics where now, more and more, the concept of probability is used and one tries to ignore as much as possible the single case. Wolfgang Pauli therefore said: “Because of the in-deterministic character of natural law, physical observation acquires the character of an irrational unique actuality and a result you cannot predict; against it stands the rational aspect of an abstract order of possibility which one posits with the help of the mathematical concept of probability and the psi function.”

In other words, physics is now confronted with a great split, namely all the pre-calculations are based on the concept of probability and are calculated in matrix and other algebraic forms, but with them one can only state a general probability. Then one makes an actual observation which is a unique actual event. Now these actual unique observations, even if they cost ten million dollars, for instance and they do nowadays in the realm of microphysics one cannot repeat infinitely so as also to get a certain practical probability. There is therefore an immense gap, and that is why Pauli says the actual experiment (let’s say with a particle in a cyclotron) is an irrational “just-so story” which generally does not quite fit the calculated probability. That is why nowadays one fudges all those equations in physics; in fact one just cheats a bit to bind them to each other, and one cannot make actual accurate predictions any more.

Naturally, physicists have thought about that! How does that happen? Why can one not make an actual prediction which should really give actual numerical results, not only a statistical probability? Pauli very clearly states that it comes from the presuppositions, because the experiment is an actual single event and the means of calculation in mathematics are based on the principle of probability, which excludes, and does not apply to, the unique event.

Therefore we now have to go deeper into the problem of probability and say: “How does that happen?” The simplest way of explaining probabilities, and the way I am going to use because it is apparently the archetypal pattern, is with cards. One has a set of 32 cards and may pick one card. The probability that out of the 32 cards one gets, say, the Ace of Hearts, is one-thirty-second.
One has just that much chance and no more. If I say you may pick ten times, then naturally the probability of getting the Ace of Hearts is much better, and if you may pick a thousand times then the chance becomes still better, and so on.

In other words repetition is the secret of probability: the more one repeats the situation, the more accurately the probability can be formulated, till finally, and that is the statistical formulation, one gets to a limit value where one can say that when one has N (that means an infinite number of draws) then a limit can be made pretty accurately. That, in popularized, simplified form, is what underlies calculable probability.

Not being a mathematician and physicist I had generally to rely on rather popularized material and there the physicist, when he wants to explain probability, always uses the example either of dice or cards. Just keep that in mind. If he explains the theorem of Bernoulli he begins by saying, “Well you see if you have so and so many cards,” and so on. The same way is always used to explain probability to a lay person. But why just that example? That is amusing! But to go now to the fact, it means that all mathematics, and their use in modern physics, are based on the principle of admitting an inability to make single predictions of single events, but aiming at being able to do so when it comes into thousands and billions of events which then gain a great amount of accuracy.

Now, as a wicked psychologist, and not believing in this, or rather seeing this as a very one-sided operation of the human mind, one has to ask two questions: first, naturally, one sees oneself that it is a very questionable or a very one-sided grasp of reality which modern science gets by applying these techniques, and therefore one is justified in asking if there are not other possibilities with other means. For the moment, however, I want to ask the other question: “Why on earth did millions of highly intelligent scientists in Western Europe and America and the Western world believe in the law of great numbers as if it were God?” Because, actually, if one discusses these problems with modern natural scientists they just believe this is it that it is our way of getting at reality and describing it scientifically and accurately. There is the implication that this is where one gets at the truth of inner and outer factors and everything else; it must be statistically proved and it must cover itself with this concept of probability.

That is my great criticism of Rhine of Duke University. Even he was foolish enough to believe that if he wanted to sell parapsychological phenomena to the scientific world then he must prove them statistically or with the concept of probability and what a fool he ended up by that in enemy territory. He should have stayed on his own territory. He tries to prove with the very means which eliminates the single case, something which is only valid in the single case. That is why I do not believe in that whole investigation. I do not believe in what they do in Duke University. They became seduced by the Zeitgeist of America, and because they wanted to prove to other scientists that their parapsychology is real science they used a tool which is absolutely inept and inadequate for the purpose. That is my personal view.

Let us now first ask why that mania of believing in the law of great numbers has possessed the Western mind? After all, those who believe in it are, in the main, the most developed and intelligent people in our civilization. They are not fools. Now why do they believe in it? If somebody believes, as a kind of holy conviction, something which after one has woken up about it proves to be a very partial and partly an erroneous viewpoint, then the psychological suspicion always exists that these people are under the secret influence of an archetype. That is what makes people believe things which are not true.

If one looks at the history of science one sees that all the errors in science, or what we now call errors, have been due to the fact that people in the past were fascinated by an archetypal idea which prevented them from observing facts further. That archetypal concept satisfied them, it gave them a subjective feeling of “this is it” and therefore they gave up looking for further explanations. Only when a scientist came along and said, “Now I am not so sure of that,” and brought new facts did they wake up and ask: ”Why on earth did we believe that other story before, it appears now to be erroneous!” Generally one sees that one was under the spell, the emotional, fascinating spell of an archetypal idea.

We have therefore to ask what archetypal idea is behind the spell which now grips the minds of modern scientists? Who is the lord of great numbers, seen from a mythological standpoint? If one studies the history of religion and comparative mythology the only beings who ever were able to manipulate great numbers were gods, or the godhead. God, even in the Old Testament, counted the hairs of our head. We cannot do that, but He can. Moreover, the Jews refused to be counted because only God was allowed to know the number of His people and to count the population was sacrilege only the Divinity could count.

Most primitive societies that still live in the aboriginal state of the collector and hunter type, for instance the Australian aborigines, all have a binary system. They count to two and then they count on in couples. They have no word beyond two, they count one, two; two, one, two; two, two, one, one, two, and so on. In most primitive civilizations they can either count to two, or to three, or to four. There are different types and beyond a certain number they say “many,” and where many begins there begins the irrational, the godhead.

There one sees how man, in learning to count, took away a little bit of territory from that all-counting god, just a little bit, the one and the two; that is what he can manage, the rest still belongs to the all-counting god. In counting to three and then four and then five, he slowly gains territory, but there always comes the moment when he says “many,” and there he gives up counting; there “the other” counts, namely the unconscious (or the archetype, or the godhead), which can count infinitely, and can out-count every computer.

That is the fascination and I will go on from there next time.

http://www.tuks.nl/pdf/Reference_Material/Aetherforce_Libary/Other/%5BMarie-Louise_von_Franz%5D_On_Divination_and_Synchronicity.pdf :

Monday, January 25, 2016

WTF is Magick?

by Gabriel Roberts via Disinformation

In an attempt to not sound absolutely crazy to anyone who might see me mention magick, I’d like to bring some illumination of what magick is.  This may prove to be a challenge because the term itself is a moving goalpost of sorts.  To some, magick means a man on a stage sawing a woman in half as an act of illusion. Ironically, this can also be seen as a metaphor for our own subjective predilections toward illusion in all aspects of our life.

In order to explain this correctly, I must try to get you to set aside what you think you might know about actual magic and allow yourself to hear me for what I’m saying unencumbered by preset notions.

The Buddhist might say that everything is Maya (illusion) and the ancient Gnostic might say the same, but with the twist that this material construct is a kind of incubator for us to occupy ourselves why Archons feed on our thoughts and feelings without our knowing it (think, people being batteries for the machines to live off of like in the film series, The Matrix).   Whether these ideas are true, or not the metaphor that they produce is indeed powerful.  In many different ways, these concepts can be seen as true.

Ok, on to actual explanation.

Magick is first a method of transforming the world you see by changing the way you see the world.  This requires one to willfully change hard-wired behavior and practices through mental gymnastics.  Much of this involves understanding and playing with the thought-form.

A thought form is the primary way we construct ideas; it is exactly the formation of our thoughts.  A thought form can also be in some ways associated with what Jung referred to as archetypes.  Archetypes are overarching themes and images that we associate with primary things in our life.  For example, for many, our fathers represent an image of what God might be like; If our father is cruel, then we may see God as inherently cruel.  The thought form of who God is creates a landscape for our reality in a highly subjective and personal fashion and may be entirely incorrect in contrast to the actual truth of the matter.

But we are not looking for truth with a capital T here, because of the paradoxical nature of truth itself.  It is like the problem scientists have with the idea that the observer changes the results of behavior simply by nature of observing.  Instead we are looking to change the nature of our thoughts and tinkering with the wiring we have in our minds.

So how exactly does one manipulate one’s own thought forms and for what purpose?  This is the crux of the magical practice.  One must in many ways trick one’s own mind, which is no small feat, but that doesn’t mean it cannot be done.

Think of a time in your life in which you radically changed stances on a subject.  Did the way you see the world change?  Did some kind of transformative experience catalyze this change?  In one way, or another, something changed the wiring of you mind on that particular subject.  In one sense, you received gnosis (experiential understanding) on that particular thing.  But the fact that this experience happened to you through your particular lens means that it may not have happened to others in the same way, even if the experience has happened to many people.  For instance, no two people lost their virginity in the same way, but all were transformed by the experience in some form.  The event is highly subjective and personal, though many themes may be similar within the broader context of the experience.

The greatest act of a magician then is to transform one’s self and therefore change the world that they see.  In changing our perception, we change the nature of reality.  And this toying with perception can change the world from something banal into something divine.  Regardless of our cosmology, we can see how this happens to everyone, hence my assertion that everything is magick.  If you ask a Kung Fu master what Kung Fu is, he might say the same thing.

In many ways magick is a western term for a traditionally assumed eastern idea, but our western traditions have much to contribute, though they have been stamped down and literally burned in books and people by two millennia of monotheistic suppression.  The stigma is palpable and yet our disciplines of science came through these occult channels from ancient sources.  Astronomy and Astrology were once one and the same, Pharmacology, Chemistry and Herbalism were once Alchemy.

So in short, the manipulation of one’s own mind to achieve a specific goal in one’s self, or in the world around them is the core of magick.  To those who might think magick to be a foul and odious working with demons and other fancied creatures, this is a misunderstanding brought forth by a long tradition of slander.  Consider what it means to work on yourself in such a way that your goal is personal growth for the highest goal of society through your own contribution.  Consider this quote from the much maligned and misunderstood book, The Black Pullet:

    “Do you feel, my son, do you feel this heroic ambition which is the sure stamp of the children of wisdom? Do you dare to desire to serve only the one God and to dominate over all that is not God? Have you understood what it is to prove to be a man and to be unwilling to be a slave since you are born to be a Sovereign? And if you have these noble thoughts, as the signs which I have found on your physiognomy do not permit me to doubt, have you considered maturely whether you have the courage and the strength to renounce all the things which could possibly be an obstacle to attaining the greatness for which you have been born?”

    At this point he stopped and regarded me fixedly as if waiting for an answer, or as if he were searching to read my heart.

    I asked him, “What is that which I have to renounce?”

    “All that is evil in order to occupy yourself only with that which is good. The proneness with which nearly all of us are born to vice rather than to virtue. Those passions which render us slaves to our senses which prevent us from applying ourselves to study, tasting its sweetness, and gathering its fruits. You see, my dear son, that the sacrifice which I demand of you is not painful and is not above your powers; on the contrary, it will make you approach perfection as near as it is possible for man to attain. Do you accept that which I propose?”


If I have explained myself correctly, you will understand that magick is simply a broad term for one working on the improvement of one’s self for the betterment of self and humanity at large through the manipulation of one’s own thoughts and ideas, questioning every notion and challenging each one in practice and critical review.

Monday, July 20, 2015

Science and Synchronicity

by Damon Orion

“Synchronicity is no more baffling or mysterious than the discontinuities of physics. It is only the ingrained belief in the sovereign power of causality that creates intellectual difficulties and makes it appear unthinkable that causeless events exist or could ever exist.” 

-C.G. Jung, “Synchronicity”


Miller: A lot o’ people don't realize what's really goin’ on. They view life as a bunch o' unconnected incidents an’ things. They don't realize that there's this, like, lattice o' coincidence that lays on top o' everything. Give you an example; show you what I mean: Suppose you're thinkin' about a plate o' shrimp. Suddenly somebody'll say, like, “plate,” or “shrimp,” or “plate o' shrimp” out of the blue. No explanation. No point in lookin' for one, either. It's all part of a cosmic unconciousness.


Otto: You eat a lot of acid, Miller, back in the hippie days? 


-Repo Man


The other night I was having a “Where are they now?” attack: an uncontrollable urge to find out what’s become of old friends, ex-girlfriends, etc. My orgy of nostalgia culminated in the early hours of morning, when I decided to do a Google search for a long-lost buddy of mine that everyone used to call Chet. (Our reasons for calling him Chet were complex—suffice to say that they involved a character from a Cheetos commercial by the name of Chester Cheetah, and that everyone but Chet thought the nickname was just super.) I found a band on MySpace called Gathering Moss whose singer had Chet’s name, and there was someone on Facebook who looked like he might be the guy, but I couldn’t be sure either of these people was the Chet I was looking for. I went to bed, figuring, “Maybe some other time.”

“Some other time” came sooner than I’d expected. When I woke up in the morning, I found two emails waiting for me: one from the band Gathering Moss, and another from the Chet whose Facebook profile I’d just found. My astonishment quickly gave way to anger—clearly, there was spyware attached to my computer, and I was being sent junk mail based on recent Internet activity. Wrong. Both of these emails were from the man himself, my long-lost buddy Chet. Incredible, but true: After going more than 15 years without communicating, we’d both picked the same night to look each other up online.

It gets weirder: Impressed by this freaky alignment of circumstances, I flashed on the last time I’d spoken with Chet, which I believe was in 1993: I’d just returned to Santa Cruz after living in L.A. for about a year and a half, and I’d dropped by The Poet and the Patriot on a hunch that I’d run into an old friend there—probably Chet. Nothing was happening, so I gulped down my last few drops of beer, turned to the friend I was with and said, “Screw it. Let’s go to Taco Bell.” (I’ve learned a thing or two about diet since then, by the way.) As I was getting up from my seat, Chet walked in the door and immediately spied me. Standing there with Taco Bell bag in hand, he gaped at me in obvious disbelief, blurting out, “Dude! I just had a dream about you last night!”

Occurrences like these are examples of what Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung named “synchronicity”: “the simultaneous occurrence of two meaningful but not causally connected events.” For some people, such happenings are treasured confirmations that life is more than a disjointed mural of birthdays, board meetings and bee stings that keep our senses occupied as we trudge toward the coffin. For others, they’re simply twin lemons on the cosmic slot machine—amusing anomalies that the random event generator spits out from time to time.

The rationalist will explain this kind of thing, quite reasonably, as follows: If 500 different people think of Mickey Mouse at 2:45 today, the law of averages says that with all the Disney propaganda floating around the globe, at least one of those people will see a picture or replica of Mickey Mouse and think it “eerie.” In other words, there’s an awful lot happening on this planet, so it’s inevitable that some events from Column A are going to match up with events from Column B in weird ways. You call that supernatural? Go hump a gnome, star child.

If you’ve ever experienced a truly uncanny synchronicity yourself, though—or several in rapid succession, as is sometimes the case—then perhaps you’ve found that the issue isn’t quite so simple. Once in a while something happens that’s so unlikely, so patently absurd, that it leaves you with the unshakeable feeling that you’ve just gotten a prank call from the Other Side. I’m not talking about minor synchronicities, where, say, you’re dressed as The Devil on Halloween, and you make a purchase that leaves you with $6.66 in change; I’m talking about when on top of that, the cashier is dressed as an angel, and at the same time that she hands you your $6.66, you hear a line about “giving The Devil his due” in the song playing over the PA.

Right now some of you are rolling your eyes and grumbling to yourselves about what a mush-brained, dandelion-smoking Mork from Ork I am for suggesting that an oogah-boogah notion like synchronicity could possibly have any validity. Well … good. Not so very long ago, people were being hunted down, tortured and murdered for promoting the heretical notion that the Earth revolved around the sun, and I salute skeptics like yourself for fighting the kinds of superstitious belief systems that gave rise to that sad situation. Now, however, we find ourselves at yet another turning point, and as certain sacred dogmas of science are replaced by demonstrably more accurate models of reality, those who cling to the old mechanistic worldview risk becoming the new fundamentalists.

Consider the fact that no less of a scientific genius than Albert Einstein once dismissed nonlocality, the strange phenomenon in which one object has a direct influence on another object without being anywhere near that object or even exerting any physical force (now a widely accepted, though mysterious, aspect of quantum physics), as “spooky action at a distance.” Like synchronicity, such activity doesn’t fit our present models of How It All Is … but there it is, right before the researchers’ eyes.

{mosimage}Permit yourself the heresy of supposing, for a moment, that not all claims of synchronistic events are products of selective perception, the law of averages and/or outright delusion, but that some are eyewitness accounts of a particularly vexing form of “spooky action at a distance” that may one day be re-shelved from “metaphysics” to “physics.”

That Synching Feeling

At age 19 (back in the early ’90s, when Chet and I were the best of friends), I was introduced to the ideas of philosopher Robert Anton Wilson by way of his book “Prometheus Rising.” One passage from the book struck me as especially intriguing: At the end of a chapter about archetypes, Wilson wrote, “Contemplating these issues usually triggers Jungian synchronicities. See how long after reading this chapter you encounter an amazing coincidence.”

Given the author’s playful style, it was difficult to discern whether he literally meant that thinking about these sorts of issues would cause synchronistic events to happen, or that it would simply lead us to notice coincidences. The key point of the book, after all, was “What the thinker thinks, the prover proves”—that is, we tend to find whatever it is we look for. If you have it in your head that you’re going to find quarters wherever you go, you’ll notice quarters on the ground all over the place. If you think the number 23 has special significance, you’ll notice the number 23 everywhere. Conversely, if you’re convinced that synchronicity is a family-sized bucket of bull, you’ll collect data to help convince yourself of this.

Either way, Wilson’s statement checked out: Mere hours after I’d read that passage, a friend of mine dropped by my house and casually asked if I’d be interested in going to a conference in Palo Alto where some of the world’s foremost psychedelic philosophers would be speaking … including that “Prometheus Rising” guy, Robert Anton Wilson. This in itself made me do a double-take, but the clincher came at the conference the following day (Hell yes, I accepted my friend’s offer), when, by chance—or something—I found myself walking side-by-side with Wilson in a hallway at Stanford University. (Mind you, there were thousands of people at this conference, and Wilson sightings at this event were few and far between, so at the very least, we can say this was a fluky thing to happen.) Seizing the opportunity, I quickly introduced myself to Wilson and got right down to business: “So, I’ve been reading ‘Prometheus Rising,’ and I have some questions for you.” Thus began a half-hour conversation that ended on a pair of couches in the building’s lobby, where I picked the brain of the author whose book had just told me to be on the lookout for amazing coincidences. (Later that night, I’d also have a memorable dialog with Timothy Leary, but that’s a whole other cube of sugar.)
Wilson has written exhaustively on the subject of synchronicity, but the idea of his that’s most relevant to our discussion is a point he made about quantum physics in the documentary film Maybe Logic: The Lives and Ideas of Robert Anton Wilson, released four years before his death in 2007. Here, he recounts an event that befell him and his wife in the early ’90s after they’d moved from Los Angeles to what they thought was Santa Cruz: “We had something stolen from our car, and we called the police, and it turned out we didn’t live in Santa Cruz—we lived in a town called Capitola. The post office thought we lived in Santa Cruz, but the police thought we lived in Capitola. I started investigating this, and a reporter at the local newspaper told me we didn’t live in either Santa Cruz or Capitola; we lived in a unincorporated area called Live Oak. Now, quantum mechanics is just like that, except that in the case of Santa Cruz, Capitola and Live Oak, we don’t get too confused, because we remember we invented the lines on the map. But quantum physics seems confusing because a lot of people think we didn’t invent the lines, so it seems hard to understand how a particle can be in three places at the same time without being anywhere at all.”

Quantum Metaphysics?

As Wilson stated, the fabric of the universe doesn’t play by human rules—even scientific ones. To understand just how strange things can get in the quantum realm, we need to take a look at Bell’s Theorem, often referred to as the Pandora’s box of modern physics. As long as Wilson has gotten us into this mess, let’s let him do the explaining (again from “Prometheus Rising”): “Bell’s Theorem is highly technical, but in ordinary language it amounts to something like this: There are no isolated systems; every particle in the universe is in ‘instantaneous’ (faster-than-light) communication with every other particle. The Whole System, even the parts that are separated by cosmic distances, functions as a Whole System.”

While it might sound like a bliss ninny’s wishful thinking to say there’s a scientific case for the idea that all things are connected, this is, in fact, exactly what Bell’s Theorem implies. Described by physicist Henry Stapp as “the most profound discovery of science” in 1975, Bell’s Theorem points to a conundrum known as entanglement, in which two physically related particles are linked in such a way that anything that happens to one of these particles is instantaneously communicated to the other, regardless of distance. According to quantum mechanics, any two things that have ever interacted are entangled in this way forevermore.

Bruce Rosenblum, professor of physics at UCSC and coauthor of the book “Quantum Enigma,” notes that although the present record distance for this kind of communication between particles is 144 km. (89 miles), “physicists don’t really doubt that it would also work from Moscow to Manhattan. According to quantum theory, this should happen across the universe.”

Rosenblum, who claims to have met Einstein in the 1950s and John Bell in the late ’80s, adds, “What quantum mechanics is saying is that there’s an interconnectedness to the universe. For big things, it’s not demonstrable: It’s too complicated, too messy. But in principle, it’s there.”

Yes, even big things like human beings. According to Rosenblum, if two people meet and shake hands, they are forever entangled, but this entanglement is so complicated that it can’t be observed. After all, those two people have also interacted with the floor, with the air, etc., etc., etc.
{mosimage}When you consider the fact that human beings are composed of subatomic particles that are constantly sending and receiving information, it seems worth asking whether the kind of complex entanglement Rosenblum describes might be what’s going on backstage during certain types of synchronistic events. If so, we probably needn’t bother trying to figure out what that event “means” or “why” it happened—we’re dealing with a system of connections so vast and elaborate that trying to understand this individual occurrence would be like trying to follow the path of a single thread in a ball of string the size of Jupiter.

A 1978 experiment led by Dr. Jacobo Grinberg-Zylberbaum of the National Autonomous University of Mexico (later replicated by neuropsychiatrist Peter Fenwick of London) provided what may have been a demonstration of quantum entanglement on the macroscopic level: Two test subjects were put in individual electromagnetically isolated rooms, and each subject’s brain was hooked up to an electroencephalograph. One test subject was then shown a series of strobe light flashes, which produced a unique brainwave pattern on the EEG. Strangely, the same pattern appeared on the other test subject’s EEG, although he was not shown the flashes. When the first test subject was given no stimulus, this correlation of brainwave patterns did not occur, nor did increases in distance affect the reproducibility of the experiment. In reference to this experiment, theoretical nuclear physicist Amit Goswami, PhD has written, “I am convinced that the transferred potential can be interpreted as the effect of quantum nonlocal interaction effect between correlated brains.”

As noted in books by the likes of Brian Clegg, Fritjof Capra and Gary Zukav (as well as in the regrettably New Age-y film What the #$*! Do We (K)now!?), the findings of quantum mechanics more and more frequently confirm notions previously associated exclusively with mysticism. One of the latest enthusiasts of such discoveries to come into public consciousness is French physicist Bernard d’Espagnat, who was announced as the winner of the $1.4 million 2009 Templeton Prize, the world’s largest annual award to an individual, on March 16. According to the award’s organizers, d’Espagnat’s work in quantum mechanics affirms a spiritual dimension of existence: Mysteries such as entanglement have led the scientist to perceive an interconnectedness and wholeness to the universe and a “veiled reality” underlying space, energy and matter.

Rosenblum, too, has had his paradigm remodeled by the “quantum enigma.” “To me there’s no question: It changes your worldview,” he states. “Even if you don’t know it, the worldview that everybody, including physicists, lives with is Newtonian: It’s the real world; everything has a cause. Oh, yes, there’s some randomness, of course, but basically, things separate, and one thing doesn’t influence the other. Hey, we know the Newtonian worldview works, but ultimately, we know it’s flawed. Does that affect you spiritually? Some people say yes.”

Meta-Metaphysics

Strike a mounted tuning fork that produces the pitch of A, and its oscillations will cause another mounted A tuning fork in the same room to vibrate “in sympathy.” Though this probably would have seemed magical to pre-scientific societies, physics tells us that these forks are connected by the air particles that surround them, and that one responds to the other because of a shared overtone. That doesn’t mean that such activity isn’t amazing—it simply means that there’s an explanation for it. Similarly, if someone who had never been exposed to television saw the same program coming through two different TV sets, he or she might be baffled as to how information could “travel” so quickly from one television to the next, never suspecting much there was a bigger picture.
Perhaps enigmas like entanglement and synchronicity will eventually be demystified in this way, and we’ll find that they only seem weird to us because of our somewhat primitive perspectives (“primitive,” of course, being relative to what lies ahead). For now, when we encounter such mysteries, it might be useful to think of ourselves as third-century folks confounded by the riddle of the tuning forks. These tuning forks don’t have some mutual destiny or some message for each other, and there’s no specific “meaning” to the fact that one causes the other to vibrate; rather, we’re face-to-face with some kind of connection we don’t yet understand.

As I hammer these last words into my laptop at a coffee shop, the sight of a man walking through the front doorway is jolting the three women at the table behind me from their discussion of the archetypes that Wagner’s music evokes. “What an amazing coincidence!” one of them shouts to the man, who, it turns out, has some kind of profound connection to Wagner. “Were your ears burning?”
I could speculate here about people’s brainwaves entraining at a distance, about these people resonating in sympathy with each other by way of a “shared overtone” (the thought of Wagner) or some such “spooky” thing, or I could simply categorize this as yet another coincidence (one of many that have intersected with my awareness since I began writing this piece). Instead, I think I’ll follow my own advice and leave such questions to be answered in the future, when scientists and mystics alike are ready to abandon certain dearly cherished beliefs, and humanity is ready to see beyond boundaries that, as Wilson pointed out, exist solely in our minds.

Jung Einstein

Carl Jung’s concept of synchronicity has been entangled with quantum physics from day one. As revealed in Jung’s “Letters, Vol. 2,” it was a series of dinner conversations with Albert Einstein in Zurich between 1909 and 1913 that first got the psychiatrist “thinking about a possible relativity of time as well as space, and their psychic conditionality. More than thirty years later, this stimulus led to my relation with the physicist Professor W. Pauli and to my thesis of psychic synchronicity.”
Jung met Pauli shortly after the idea of synchronicity began to take solid form in Jung’s mind. Pauli, who, at age 21, wrote a book-length critique of Einstein’s theory of relativity that Einstein praised as accurate, insightful and thorough, was instrumental in establishing the foundations of quantum mechanics. One of his major contributions to science is the exclusion principle, which physicist F. David Peat describes in his book “Synchronicity: The Bridge between Matter and Mind” as the “discovery of an abstract pattern that lies hidden beneath the surface of atomic matter and determines its behavior in a non-causal way.” The influence of such concepts on Jung’s theory of synchronicity is unmistakable.

In 1934, after having Jung analyze several of his dreams, Pauli had a dream in which a man who looked like Einstein told him that quantum physics was only a one-dimensional part of a deeper reality. The following year, Einstein and physicists Boris Podolsky and Nathan Rosen presented a paper that inadvertently illustrated a mysterious, acausal connectedness between particles. This EPR (Einstein/Podolsky/Rosen) paper lodged three complaints against quantum mechanics, one of them being the implausibility of nonlocality: the direct influence of one object on another object from far away. (Einstein famously scorned such activity as “spooky action at a distance.”)

{mosimage}In the mid-’60s, physicist John Bell responded to the EPR paper by proving a theorem that provided a way of testing the validity of these “spooky actions.” The experiments that followed produced empirical evidence of nonlocality. Thus, Einstein inadvertently opened the gates to the study of two different kinds of “spooky action at a distance”—synchronicity and quantum entanglement (the latter of whose implications he ironically found disconcerting)—and Pauli deliberately helped bring these ideas into focus.

In Synch

All over the globe, we see a tendency of organisms and even inanimate objects to synchronize with each other. One of the most intriguing examples of this principle is entrainment, which is believed to be nature’s way of conserving energy. Entrainment was discovered in 1665 by Dutch scientist Christian Huygens, who found that if you put several grandfather clocks whose pendulums are swinging out of synch with one another in the same room, their pendulums will be moving in time with each other within a day or two.

Entrainment exists within the animal world as well: Through the phenomenon of collective motion, groups of organisms such as flocks of birds, schools of fish, swarms of insects and colonies of bacteria move as a single body. In a more romantic vein, there are multiple instances of synchronized courtships, such as when groups of male fireflies in Southeastern Asia flash their lights on and off in perfect synchronization to attract females, or when frogs or crickets “serenade” potential mates in unison. Recent research at Cornell University has also revealed that while mating, mosquitoes synchronize the frequencies of the beats of their wings (400 Hz for the female and 600 Hz for the male) into a “male/female” harmonic of 1200 Hz.

In human biology, we see the principle of synchrony at work in both the locking menstrual cycles of women who live together and in the activity of pacemaker cells (the cells that control a person’s heart rate): When two pacemaker cells are in close proximity to each other, they quickly fall into rhythm with one another, building and releasing charges in unison.

{mosimage}By analyzing a film of children on a playground at lunchtime, a graduate student working under the supervision of anthropologist Edward T. Hall found another example of synchrony in the human realm: Kids all over the playground were unknowingly moving in rhythm with each other, as if dancing to the beat of a song. Similarly, by analyzing films of people in conversation, Boston University School of Medicine psychologist William S. Condon noticed that the listeners’ bodily gestures were in perfect synchrony with the speakers’ voices. Stranger still, when he hooked up pairs of people in conversation to separate electroencephalographs, he found that the brainwaves of people engaged in “good” conversation oscillated “in harmony” with each other. Similar experiments have revealed that the brainwaves of attendees of church sermons and students listening to lectures generally oscillated in synch with those of the speaker, and that only when this kind of brainwave entrainment occurred was the class or church service perceived as “good.” Such data convinced Condon that human beings are not “isolated entities sending discrete messages to one another,” but rather are participants within “shared organizational forms."

The Mystical Perspective

“Since psyche and matter are contained in one and the same world, and moreover are in continuous contact with one another and ultimately rest on irreprehensible, transcendental factors, it is not only possible but fairly probable, even, that psyche and matter are two different aspects of one and the same thing. The synchronicity phenomena point, it seems to me, in this direction, for they show that the nonpsychic can behave like the psychic, and vice versa, without there being any causal connection between them.”
- Carl Jung, “On the Nature of the Psyche”

“Synchronicity is the love underlying the happenings of the time. Love brings everything together. Now, there is a resonating field. There is a field that tries for everything to come together, because we live in this unified field, and love is always trying to pull us into being unified. As we become more and more conscious, we enter that unified field of love, and then we have synchronistic experiences. Love is not a feeling—it’s pure reason. As we interact with each other, as we become more and more aware, as we have our desires placed out there, everything on the planet tries to bring it forth.”
- Risa D’Angeles, founder and director of the Esoteric & Astrological Studies & Research Institute

“I have spent much of my adult life trying to understand these events, and although I believe their true origin is beyond human comprehension, it has much to do with the spiritual concept that time is an illusion, and events can be orchestrated by entities in spirit form (including our higher selves) which are designed to keep us on our true path.”
-Mystic Life, editor of SynchronicityTimes.com

“Synchronicity, along with déjà vu, is a phenomenon that people too easily take for granted. People regularly toss off this everyday minor miracle with a ‘Wow! What a weird coincidence,’ not really thinking about it again. We should pay closer attention in these moments, ‘smell the rose of synchronicity,’ if you will, as there is probably something important happening if we look a little closer. I think of synchronicity as experiential proof of the interconnectedness of all things and the existence of a higher power. I think that if one could somehow empirically measure the countless individual synchronistic events across the globe at any given moment and simultaneously show all of them to the people of the world, it would go a long way to bind us together … or maybe that would just make us like The Borg … Either way, resistance is futile.”
-Chet (now married, a father of three, and working as a retail manager in Chicago)