VI

VI. ANATOMY OF THE PSYCHE

By Stephen Palmquist (stevepq@hkbu.edu.hk)

16. The Ego and its Personas

Last week we learned that Jung's distinction between the personal and collective unconscious can be compared to the distinction between a person's individual appearance and the science of human anatomy. Jung's "archetypes", as we saw in Lecture 13, function like "maps"-i.e., patterns imprinted by the collective unconscious on each person's personal unconscious. In Lecture 15 we then saw that the archetypes apply not only to the structure of the human psyche, but also to its development. Whereas Freud's theory focused on the stages of childhood development, Jung's archetypes apply mainly to the stages of an adult's personal growth (see Figure V.3). Last week's discussion provided an overview of this process; this week we shall take a closer look at the psyche's basic anatomy.

The goal of our investigations in each lecture this week will be to discover how to integrate the beneficial (healthy) aspects of each element into our psyche without falling into the trap of identifying that element with our true Self. In his discussion of the nature and structure of the psyche, Jung adopts Freud's convention of referring to the conscious mind as the "ego". But unlike Freud, he distinguishes carefully between the ego and what he calls the "Self"-i.e., the highest of all archetypes, the archetype of wholeness. For Freud, the ego's proper role is to govern the entire psyche; there is no higher power. In other words, Freud regards the ego as the true Self. Jung, by contrast, regards such identification as highly dangerous. Next week we shall examine his theory of the Self-archetype in more detail. For this week it will suffice merely to keep in mind that the ego as well as all other archetypes are only part (or aspects) of the Self: none but the latter can be identified with the whole.

Jung's understanding of the ego further diverges from Freud's inasmuch as he downplays Freud's claim that the ego's main task is to maximize pleasure and minimize pain by means of its "reality principle". Instead, Jung emphasizes the ego's task of selecting appropriate social roles that will enable a person to participate effectively in society. These roles are like external coverings, or "masks", that hide or protect our inner conscious thought processes from other people's gaze. In social interactions we usually show people an "image" of ourselves that differs in various ways from what we know our ego (our conscious self-image) is really like. This outer image is normally different for different types of situation: I show a different image to my students than I do to my family members, and still another to colleagues at work, etc.

In order to distinguish clearly between these external social images and the inner ego they "hide", Jung calls the former our "personas". This term comes from the Latin word for "mask": in Medieval plays each actor would normally play several characters, wearing a different mask (persona) for each one. Jung adopts this word as a technical term because our social roles are usually multiple and alternating, very much like the masks worn by these actors. Because "personality" originally referred only to external character-traits, rather than to one's deeper self-identity (as it often does nowadays), Jung preferred to use the term "individual" when referring to the whole Self (e.g., DA 107). Of course, the words "personal growth" in the title of this course should be taken to refer to the growth of the whole Self, not just the growth of our personas.

The persona is not, strictly speaking, an archetype. Rather it is like the "cap" on the "bottle" (the psyche) that contains the archetypes. Thus we must come to know our various personas before we can clearly distinguish the characteristics of our archetypes. Without having a clear awareness of the difference between the two conscious layers of our psyche (i.e., the ego and its personas), we cannot even begin to explore its deeper, unconscious layers. Moreover, the archetypes, as general symbols imbedded in the collective unconscious, each interact with both the ego and the persona in a different way. Let us therefore take a closer look at what the persona is and how it functions.

Remember the onion analogy I used in Lecture 1? Well, the persona could be regarded as the onion's dry, outside layer (or first few layers) that must be peeled away before we come to the part of the onion we can actually eat. As we shall see, these social roles do not represent all the layers of the psyche, but only the hard, protective layers that keep the "softer" parts of our character safe from outside invasion. In the same way, your personas serve a very useful purpose: they protect not only your ego but also your entire personal unconscious from being exposed to the harsh realities of the external world. Just as a good layer of outer skin will help an onion grow, a healthy set of personas will provide a protective covering within which our personal growth can safely progress.

Chuang Tzu's butterfly dream can also be interpreted as a picture of the multiplicity of our personas. In the story, Chuang Chou recognizes that either of two self-images could be regarded as genuine, with the other being a mere persona: he could be a man who is merely "putting on the mask" of a butterfly, or a butterfly who is merely wearing a human face. This is a bit fanciful, of course, but the point is an important one. Each of us experiences this fundamental ambiguity from time to time, whereby we ourselves are unsure about which of two "faces" is our true face. The question this ought to raise in our minds is: Could it be that neither characteristic is my true Self, but that both are rather aspects of a deeper "me"? This possibility will be discussed more fully next week.

Many people express concern about the apparently hypocritical implications of being one kind of person on the "inside" and a different kind of person on the "outside". Have you ever had thoughts like the following? "I feel so bad smiling while I talk with Mr. X. Little does he know that I'd really like to punch him in the face!" Hypocrisy is, of course, a very serious moral defect that we should all seek to avoid. (The only type of people whom Jesus repeatedly condemned, for instance, were hypocrites [see e.g., Matt. 23].) But hypocrisy should not be confused with a healthy and proper awareness of the usefulness of a good set of personas. Hypocrisy means demanding that other people obey certain (e.g., religious) rules even though you yourself do not obey them. A healthy persona, by contrast, is based on the recognition that different social situations call for different kinds of "public image", that brutally speaking (or acting) out "the whole truth" of what you are really thinking is not always a wise thing to do, and that the cohesiveness of society depends to a large extent on our ability to recognize what is appropriate to a given situation.

Such natural discrepancies between our ego and its personas are usually not hypocritical, and should not make us feel guilty-unless, of course, they do take on a hypocritical character. Being aware of such differences is usually a sign that a person is not hypocritical. This is because hypocrisy happens when we confuse the ego and the persona, identifying both as equal to the true Self. Hypocrites fail to hide what is in their ego: they impose their own inner rules onto other people, thinking they too are abiding by those rules, but not realizing that their persona shows clearly to the perceptive observer that the rules are not being obeyed. This is why true hypocrites are almost always totally unaware of the hypocritical nature of their words and actions.

Jung's main reason for emphasizing the need to become aware of our personas as we approach the "afternoon" of individuation is to prevent us from making just this mistake of regarding one of our personas as our true Self (see CW 9.221; DA 74). If I think that I am a teacher or an author or a father or a friend-or any other persona I may adopt from time to time-then my personal growth will be unable to progress beyond the limitations of that self-image. Moreover, if there is a drastic change in that aspect of my social life-if I should lose my job or nobody buys my books, for example-then my life would begin to feel meaningless. I would feel as if I had lost "myself", when in fact I would merely have lost a falsely idealized self-image.

In dreams the persona can be symbolized by anything that has a function or characteristic such as covering, protecting, or hiding something else underneath. Thus Jung says (DA 51): "Persona is a sort of paste one wears over the face." Paint on a wall, blankets on a bed, the dustcover of a book, or the lid of a saucepan could all serve as typical persona symbols. When you think a symbol in one of your dreams might be representing one of your personas, you should be sure to mention this in your dream diary. But don't just state it as a bare fact; explain why you believe it is a persona symbol, and try to draw some insights about your own persona from the details of the dream text. For instance, if you dream of a wall painted red, you might ask yourself what associations you have with the color read, then consider how your persona might exhibit some of those same characteristics.

One of the most common symbols of a persona is clothing. Just as we need more than one set of clothes in order to fit well into a variety of social situations, so also do we need a variety of personas to cover up the "naked body" of our ego. So if a piece of clothing stands out in your dream (i.e., if it feels particularly significant to you), try to determine how its particular way of appearing in the dream might be conveying a message to you about one of your past, present, or future (possible) personas. But be sure the dream itself presents the clothing as functioning in the capacity of a covering. All dream symbols can function in a variety of ways. For instance, skin that is covered by clothing could symbolize the ego, whereas skin that functions in your dream as a covering for your internal organs is more likely to be a symbol of your persona.

Have you heard the story of the emperor's new clothes? A clever tailor managed to convince the emperor that he had woven a new kind of invisible clothing that would be a real trend-setter. Wanting to make a good impression, the emperor paraded around the city naked, until he realized he was making a fool of himself, for he had no clothes on! If we apply Jungian methods of dream interpretation to this story, we might say the emperor had been convinced to identify his ego (the naked body) with his clothing (the persona). People who believe in being "totally honest all the time" are making the same mistake as this poor emperor-and sooner or later they will pay for it with their own embarrassment.

Another common way a persona may be symbolized in dreams is in the form of a person who has characteristics (either in the dream or in waking life, or both) that are similar to one of the dreamer's personas. When this happens, you should use the details of the dream to clarify and deepen your awareness of that persona's characteristics, and perhaps also to evaluate its suitability to your personality. To do this, pay close attention in your interpretation to anything unusual that happens in the dream. Unexpected events or personality characteristics are much more likely to carry some symbolic meaning from the unconscious than events that seem ordinary; the latter are more likely to be residue from your recent waking life.

When evaluating one of your personas, you should distinguish clearly between persona-symbols and ego-symbols in your dreams, then look for signs that the persona "fits" your ego nicely, the way attractive clothing fits your body. If someone appearing in your dream acts in a way that you have consciously thought about acting, but have covered up with some persona, such a person could be regarded as a symbol of your ego. Normally, you will represent your own ego in your dreams (i.e., the "you" in your dreams will usually reflect one or several specific ego-characteristics), with another person similar to you representing your persona. But sometimes this can be reversed: someone else might be saying or doing things that you privately think about, while the "you" in your dream upholds one of your typical personas. In any case, when a persona does not fit your ego very well, try to find something in the dream that suggests how to solve this problem-usually either by adjusting that persona or by changing to an altogether new persona.

Let's look for a moment at how the ego and persona interact in the two sample dreams I quoted in Week I. You may recall that the short sample dream (see Lecture 2) had an element of ambiguity: I could not remember whether I was speaking or hearing the words "sleep has a structure". This uncertainty could reflect a tendency to confuse my persona as a psychology teacher (helping students to become aware of the structure and meaning of their dreams) with my ego. Since that dream was the first entry in a dream diary I was writing after two-and-a-half years of not teaching a course on dream interpretation, this ambiguity could be regarded as warning me not to identify my "dream interpreter" persona with my ego.

As I mentioned in Lecture 14, the camera in §IV of the longer sample dream (see Lecture 3) can also be interpreted as a symbol of one of my personas: the artistic photographer. The "me" who appears earlier in the dream is quite consistent with my conscious thought-life, so I would regard this dream image as representing my ego. By returning to the dream text, we can amplify these images still further. Note that I am taking pictures of "famous buildings", and that only "the tops" are showing. St. Paul's Cathedral, of course, is one of the most famous buildings in all of Britain. So fame seems to be a key aspect of the persona being portrayed in this dream. This fits nicely with the fact that in §§II-III my ego is interacting with two of the most famous people in the world: Bill and Hillary Clinton. This suggests that the ego-persona interaction in this dream concerns whether and how much I see (or should see) myself as a "famous" person.

Fame is something I always try to disown with my persona; but if I'm honest, I have to admit that my ego (i.e., my conscious thought-life) sometimes considers what it would be like to be famous. The above interpretation enlarges (amplifies) my awareness of this theme, suggesting that a more artistic approach to life might enable me to deal with fame in a more balanced way. The "remote control device" symbolizes the need to remain at a distance from this persona in order to avoid identifying it with my true Self. And the fact that only the "tops" of the famous buildings are in view (because other, closer buildings are blocking the way), suggests that there are still obstacles to overcome before I can enter fully into a balanced attitude towards fame. This set of symbols seems to be compensating for an unconscious desire to "come out on top" in certain leadership situations.

In closing let me remind you that the reason we need to become aware of the differences between our ego and its personas is not so that we can throw away the personas, but rather, so that the ego can fulfill its proper function of selecting appropriate personas. An appropriate persona will be one that can be readily distinguished from our ego, but enables the beauty of our ego to shine through, without preventing us from fitting in well with the social situation relevant to that persona. Once we begin to make such distinctions, the archetypes will begin to make themselves known. As we shall see in the remainder of this week, the first two archetypes relate to each other in much the same way as the ego and the persona, but in the context of the unconscious.

17. Facing the Shadow

I'd like to begin this lecture by showing you a map I've constructed to help us picture the distinction between the conscious, the personal unconscious, and the collective unconscious. This map clarifies something I briefly mentioned at the end of Lecture 16, that the ego-persona distinction is to the conscious mind what the shadow-anima/us distinction is to the unconscious. The diagram in Figure VI.1 is closely related to the simpler one given in Figure II.2, but has been adapted to include most of the elements given in a very similar (but more complex and less explicit)

diagram Jung himself used in a private seminar he led in 1928 (see DA 50-51). Interpreting this map is fairly straightforward. The conscious mind is depicted as the brighter side and the collective unconscious as the darker side, with the personal unconscious dividing and joining the two. This reflects the fact that the archetypes always appear in our dreams in terms of symbols that are appropriate to our own personal unconscious: the latter serves like a filter

Figure VI.1: Jung's Map of the Psyche

that lets the ego see only certain aspects of the former. Moreover, the diagram accurately shows the anima as covering the shadow in much the same way as the persona covers the ego-like a protective shell. This similarity will become more clear in Lecture 18.

This map could also be misleading in several respects. First, the relative importance of each part of the psyche is not necessarily equivalent to the proportions shown on the diagram. Indeed, for each individual these proportions will be different. Second, the divisions between the different parts are not always as distinct as the clear lines shown on the map. In particular, the personal and collective unconscious are not totally distinct as the map seems to suggest. One fades into the other; the archetypes themselves have characteristics that are unique to the individual (and thus more closely associated with the personal unconscious) while at the same time having other characteristics that are part of their general (collective) nature. Finally, the collective unconscious consists of far more than just two archetypes. The shadow and anima/us are shown here merely because they are normally the first and most important archetypes we meet when we first begin to interpret our dreams.

In the previous lecture we learned that the reason for distinguishing clearly between the ego and its personas is to open up the possibility of becoming aware of deeper (archetypal) aspects of our self-identity. Freudian and Jungian psychology is called "depth" psychology precisely because it seeks to go beyond the shell of the persona, to the deeper layers of the "onion" of our psyche. Many other forms of modern psychology (e.g., behaviorism) focus solely on the persona, regarding their task as complete once a person has adopted a set of personas that function well in society. Whereas for Freud, the superego is usually the first of the "deeper" layers we must come to know, Jung calls his version of the first layer the "shadow".

Like all archetypes, the shadow is an expression of the basic "tension between opposites" that must characterize the relationship between the conscious and the unconscious in order for psychic compensation to operate properly (see Lecture 12). The shadow compensates for the ego: whereas our ego consists of the conscious thoughts and the psychic characteristics we tend to view as strong (both good and bad), the shadow consists of the sum total of all our repressed weaknesses, qualities we regard (in our conscious thought-life) as inferior or inappropriate for our character. To start becoming aware of your shadow, you must discern not what is strong in your persona-not what image of pretended strength you project to the world-but rather what your inner thought-life regards as your strong character traits. Then think of the opposite of those traits, and you are likely to come up with some key shadow characteristics.

Before giving some examples of how the shadow operates, let me explain why Jung chose this particular term. Shadows appear as a natural by-product of shining a light onto a solid object. If I place my hand on an over-head projector, for instance, then turn on the lamp, you will see the image of my hand projected as a shadow on the wall. Think now of the psyche, or perhaps the Self, as being this object (i.e., my hand), with the ego being the light of consciousness (i.e., the projector lamp); the shadow is then an inevitable result of our natural psychic processes. This illustration suggests that the ego's light tends to project the image of our shadow onto some foreign object (in this case, the wall). Jung points out that this is precisely what is likely to happen when we remain unaware of our shadow archetype.

Projection occurs whenever ignorance of some aspect of our own psyche causes us to see certain other people as if they have that characteristic, when in fact they do not. When we project our shadow onto another person, that person will normally irritate us for reasons that other people tend to regard as irrational. For we'll "see" the dark shadow of our "hand"-i.e., some particular characteristic(s) we regard as undesirable-superimposed onto that person's own character. The natural human response in such situations is to blame the person who seems to be "causing" the irritation. But such blaming usually reveals a relatively low level of personal growth. "Scapegoating" happens when a person or group of people is unwilling to face up to their own dark side, so they project it onto someone else. Hitler's success in convincing Germans to kill millions of Jews during World War II is a classic case of a cultural shadow projection.

The false innocence characteristic of a typical shadow projection is illustrated in a story Chuang Tzu tells immediately before the passage relating his story of the butterfly dream (CTBW 44):

Penumbra said to Shadow, "A little while ago you were walking and now you're standing still; a little while ago you were sitting and now you're standing up. Why this lack of independent action?"

Shadow said, "Do I have to wait for something before I can be like this? Does what I wait for also have to wait for something before it can be like this? Am I waiting for the scales of a snake or the wings of a cicada? How do I know why it is so? How do I know why it isn't so?

In this curious anecdote Penumbra (meaning "almost a shadow"-i.e., the lighter area immediately surrounding a shadow) can be regarded as a symbol of an archetype (perhaps the anima) challenging the shadow to defend its movements. Shadow responds by posing its own set of questions, implicitly blaming "something" else for its movements, and claiming a total lack of responsibility for its "lack of independent action". Shadow's willingness to remain in a state of ignorance stands in sharp contrast to the next story, relating Chuang Chou's transformative reflections on whether he is dreaming of a butterfly or is himself the butterfly's dream.

Jung's solution to the problem of projection is for the person doing the projecting to turn around and face the shadow. This goes against our natural inclinations; for the shadow, remember, represents all that we regard as evil or inappropriate, all that we have repressed in order to avoid the need to recognize who we really are. Our natural inclination is to run away from any association with such things. Facing the shadow, by contrast, is like shining a second light onto the other side of my hand: the shadow disappears from the wall and most or all of my hand comes into the light. This process is what Jung calls "withdrawing the projection", and is one of the most important reasons to learn about our archetypes. For until we withdraw the projections we place on other people as a result of our own immaturity, we'll never be able to see them as they truly are. Dependency and jealousy will masquerade as friendship and love. Only by withdrawing the projection, painfully admitting responsibility for our weaknesses, can a true relationship be established.

But the reason for facing the shadow and withdrawing its projections is not merely to free other people from the false impressions we have of them; it also has two significant benefits with respect to our own personal growth. First, when we are projecting our shadow (or any other archetype), that archetype is actually controlling us. Even though the act of projecting the shadow makes us feel like we are expelling it from our psyche, the reality is that the shadow is thereby possessing us unconsciously. Running away from the shadow is like running from a mad dog: it will eventually catch up and bite us from behind. Yet if we have the courage to turn around and face the dark, shadowy side of our psyche, then we paradoxically break its power over us-just as a mad dog will not bite a person who is boldly staring into its eyes.

The second benefit of withdrawing projections is that some unrealized potential for personal growth will always be unleashed as a result. The goal in becoming aware of your shadow is not to change suddenly into the opposite sort of person; rather it is to balance the ego and the shadow so that new possibilities emerge. For instance, a person who discovers that anger is part of his or her shadow is likely to be a very calm person in ordinary waking life, but will be highly irritated by others who appear to be frequently angry. Running from such a shadow will give rise to a long series of unhappy encounters with "angry people". The similarities between the events in such a vicious cycle indicates that the anger is actually being projected onto these people by the one who seems to be the victim. Eventually, such repressed anger will surface in an explosion of anger at a very inappropriate time. But facing the shadow and admitting responsibility for this dark side will enable such a person to gain positive qualities that have been "locked out" by the overly extreme calmness that formerly characterized the person's ego: qualities such as courage, tenacity and self-confidence.

The shadow can be symbolized in dreams by anything "shadowy": dark, dirty or evil objects-such as a dimly lit room, a toilet, a garbage can, a weapon, or of course, an actual shadow-can be important clues to the presence of shadow-elements in a dream. Keep in mind, though, that the shadow is an archetype (i.e., the personification of a universal symbol), so it will appear most frequently in the form of a person. The unconscious will normally choose someone you dislike in waking life to represent your shadow. Alternatively, your shadow could appear as a friend saying or doing something uncharacteristic, something that conflicts with your conscious idea of what such a person ought to say or do. In either case, we should always remember that archetypes are an exclusively symbolic form of dream interpretation (see Figure V.2). For this reason, I try to avoid saying things like "Dr. M is my shadow." Instead, I prefer to say a specific person "represents" or "symbolizes" my shadow in a particular dream, or that I have a bad habit of projecting my shadow onto that person in waking life.

A very important point about shadow figures is that they will always appear as a person of the same sex as the dreamer. This, Jung believes, is because repression works in two fundamentally different ways: we repress something either because our ego deems it to be wrong, weak or inappropriate, or else because our persona deems it to be an attractive attribute, but only for a person of the opposite sex. The latter, as we shall see in the next lecture, relates only to the anima/us archetype. Jung therefore defines shadow repressions as those having characteristics that we consciously identify more naturally with the same sex than with the opposite sex. This means the "you" that appears in your dream could represent your shadow, if you are saying or doing things that are totally contrary to your waking self-image; but you will not normally serve as the symbol of your own anima/us-unless perhaps you dream of yourself as being a member of the opposite sex.

To clarify and illustrate these points, let me tell you about my own shadow: one of its most obvious characteristics is its authority. Ever since I was a child, I have had a strong tendency to resist authority, and to see myself (my ego, though not always my persona) as a rebel. My natural inclination has always been to "go against the flow"; adopting a persona that cooperates with the status quo has often left me feeling uneasy or bored, whereas challenging an authority figure, despite causing considerable trouble initially, has usually worked in my favor in the long run. This comfortable self-image, however, has had to be modified over the past twelve years as a result of the dream diaries I have kept-especially those kept in connection with my teaching of this course.

My dreams have repeatedly portrayed images of authority figures -especially male leaders-interacting with me in various ways. The dream series I shared with you in Lecture 15, for instance, dealt mainly with this aspect of my shadow. Let's look more closely at how those dreams (especially the long sample dream quoted in full in Lecture 3) enabled me to integrate elements of my shadow into my conscious personality, thus breaking its controlling power over me. In Dream 4 (the sample dream), Bill Clinton, as President of the United States, is obviously an authority figure. In the dream, however, he is portrayed as being somewhat weak: he is in the kitchen, the place of transformation, trying to figure out how to cook a turkey. This picture of a weak shadow who is himself working on transformation reflects the fact that my previous dreamwork has already led to a significant degree of synthesis between my ego and shadow in this respect.

Subsequent dreams in the series carry this synthesis one step further. In Dream 10 I am forced to change my persona at home, before I can "meet the president"-i.e., integrate the shadow with the ego. This paves the way for an unprecedented sense of cooperation with several typical shadow figures: in Dream 15 I follow the lead suggested in Dream 4, by putting aside my "rational" persona and working with Dr. Q to construct a computerized map of the world; later (Dream 21) I even consider having Dr. Q as an academic supervisor! Dream 16 warns me, however, not to become too much like the shadow, lest I end up "going along with" a despotic form of leadership, like Hitler's. Dream 17 reveals an element of repressed anger at being subject to a Hitler-like leadership situation in waking life. The insight raised by several dreams in the series is that a proper use of language is the key to resolving this shadow crisis (i.e., to "cooking" the "turkey"): Dream 17's claim that "I keep changing my answers" is followed by the wise old man teaching on language (Dream 19), Dr. Q pointing out the need to temper one's individual "voice" to that of the whole group (Dream 20), and a warning not to be inconsiderate (Dream 27). These insights prepare the way for several anima dreams, further encouraging me to adopt a responsible attitude toward leadership.

You might be interested to know that this personal growth really did make a difference in my waking life. About a month after my last entry in that dream diary, I had a meeting with a very important authority figure. It so happens that I had been wearing my hair in a pony tale for over a year prior to that time. Just before this meeting, I decided to go to the barber and have my hair cut short. A few years ago I never would have contemplated doing such a thing! But now this served as a profound symbolic statement, demonstrating that I was no longer possessed by this shadow: I could see myself as something other than just a rebel; I myself might have the potential to be a strong leader-authoritative in the best sense of the word. This insight illustrates an important point about how the shadow differs from the anima/us: once we integrate the shadow's opposite extreme into our conscious self-image, that aspect of the shadow fades away, just as a shadow disappears when we shine light on an object from two opposite directions. As we shall see in the next lecture, the same is not true for the anima/us.

One further point needs to be made about the shadow. Normally, this archetype will be associated with character-traits that seem negative. As the tension between your shadow and ego becomes less extreme, however, shadow-images will eventually begin to appear in a more positive light. An example of a "positive shadow" can be seen in Dream 15 of my series. Such a transformation from negative to positive is a completely normal part of the shadow's development. But in the early stages of dreamwork having a strong positive shadow can be a very bad sign. A young (or immature) person with a consistently positive shadow will have a very negative conscious self-image-i.e., a very weak ego. Paradoxically, we must guard against identifying the ego with the Self; yet as we shall see, the ego is actually the seed out of which the Self grows, and as such it needs to be strong at first. Jung's theory assumes that the normal human condition is to think highly of ourselves, to assess our own self-image (our ego) in an essentially positive light. This is why the shadow, with its compensatory function, is initially negative, becoming positive only as its opposition to the ego becomes less extreme.

18. Integrating the Anima/Animus

When Jung turns his attention from the same-sex archetype (the shadow) to the opposite-sex archetype, a number of differences immediately present themselves. The first is that two different names are now needed for one archetype. Shadow-characteristics are asexual, representing repressed moral and social ideas and images that are potentially the same for men and women, so a single term can be used for both sexes. With the next archetype, however, the repressed characteristics are explicitly gender-related. For this reason, Jung coins two separate terms, based on the feminine and masculine forms of the Latin word for "soul" (see e.g., DA 52): the anima is the "feminine side" of every male, while the animus is the "masculine side" of every female. In the foregoing references to this archetype, I have used the short form, "anima/us" (meaning "anima or animus"); but in this lecture I shall refer to them separately to avoid confusion. Just remember that each of us has only one of these: males have a little woman (the anima) living inside of them, while females have a little man (the animus).

A second difference between this week's two main archetypes is that the shadow begins as a negative archetype, while the anima or animus normally begins as a positive archetype. When I repress something because it is wrong or immoral, I naturally develop negative feelings toward it; but repressing something because it conflicts with my persona of what it means to be a man normally makes that characteristic all the more attractive to me. Of course, this generalization is not a universal rule. Just as the shadow can appear in a positive light (usually in the later stages of dreamwork), so also the anima or animus can appear in a negative light. The convention when referring to these archetypes is to assume the former is negative and the latter is positive, unless otherwise specified. Thus, we may talk about the "positive shadow" and the "negative anima (or animus)", but will not normally use the terms "negative shadow" and "positive anima (or animus)", because the latter qualifiers are merely assumed.

A third difference relates to the way each archetype carries out its compensatory function. Just as the shadow compensates for the ego, the anima and animus express the psyche's "tension between opposites" by compensating for the persona (see e.g., DA 52). According to Jung, a typical male will have a persona that is dominated by a preference for thinking and making sense of their experiences, whereas a typical female persona will focus much more on feeling and intuition (88,95-96). The anima compensates for the male persona by giving the psyche an unconscious emotional aspect; likewise, the animus compensates for the female persona by giving the psyche an unconscious rational aspect. We shall discuss these four key psychological types in much more detail in Week VIII.

Finally, the goal of working with these two archetypes is different. Whereas we face the shadow in order to brighten its darkness and weaken the grip it has on the psyche, with the eventual goal of minimizing its overall effect (cf. DA 67), we integrate the anima or animus in order to strengthen it so that it can guide the soul to deeper and deeper levels of meaning. Although this archetype compensates for our persona, it nevertheless represents our authentic unconscious self-image, just as the ego does for the conscious mind. The shadow, in other words, acts as a barrier preventing the ego from having contact with the anima or animus, in much the same way as the persona prevents other people from contacting our ego. At first, the anima (or animus) can be pictured as an animal trapped in a cage that is kept locked by the shadow. But as the shadow begins to lose its grip on our soul, the anima (or animus) is released to serve as a life-long guide to our exploration of the unconscious and its other archetypes (see Lecture 20). As with the ego and its personas, we must resist the temptation to identify ourselves with this archetype: like a good guide, the anima or animus functions best when it stands on the sidelines, pointing our attention to a higher aim. Its ultimate goal, as we shall see next week, is to lead us along the path of individuation to an awareness of the archetype of wholeness, the Self.

The same problem arises with the anima or animus that we first saw with the shadow: if we do not recognize and take responsibility for the archetype as our own, then we shall inevitably project it onto other people. This often results in the phenomenon of "falling in love" or "infatuation", to be considered in Lecture 29. Whereas shadow projections intensify the negative feelings we have toward our same-sex rivals (people we tend to hate), anima or animus projections intensify the positive feelings we have toward our opposite-sex allies (people we tend to love). The difference here stems from the difference in the essential character of the archetypes; the dynamics of the projection process are virtually identical. Just as with our shadow-projections, withdrawing our anima or animus projections will serve two important purposes: it will free us to see the other person in a more realistic light; and it will enable us to recognize new areas of potential personal growth within ourselves.

As a reminder of the dangers of projection, let me repeat here what I said in the previous lecture, concerning the shadow: representations of your anima or animus in dreams must be regarded as subjective symbols (see Figure V.2), not as literal references to waking-life individuals. If I make a habit of saying that "Ms. L is my anima", then my ability to relate to that person in waking life is likely to be seriously hampered by my tendency to project part of my unintegrated psyche onto that relationship. Instead, I prefer to say a specific person "represents" or "symbolizes" my anima in a particular dream, or that I have a bad habit of projecting my anima onto that person in waking life.

The phenomenon of projection reveals some important differences between the anima and the animus. One of Jung's most debatable presuppositions is that all males are essentially rational ("Logos"-oriented), while all females are essentially emotional ("Eros"-oriented): men learn to repress the emotional side of their psyche, while women learn to repress their rational side (see e.g., DA 14-15,95). Jung even goes so far as to say (96): "You never can get a woman to express her real thoughts, just as you can never get a man to tell his real feelings." On the basis of this assumption, he argues that a man's anima compensates for this repression by being full of emotion, while a woman's animus compensates by being highly rational. A man who has an "anima complex" (i.e., one who is possessed by strong attitudes related to that archetype) is therefore likely to be uncharacteristically moody, whereas a woman with an "animus complex" will be highly opinionated (CW 9.223). Of course, there may be other symptoms as well; for instance, an anima complex could drive a man into a life of adventure or ambition (see DA 57), while an animus complex could drive a woman to achieve excellence in language skills (since logos means "word" in Greek). In any case, these complexes will result in the person projecting their unintegrated attitudes onto other people of the opposite sex.

Because the typical male psyche is anatomically different from the typical female psyche, the anima and animus must take on different kinds of characteristics in order to compensate effectively. Being the opposite sex archetype, a man's anima will always appear in dreams in the form of a woman, and a woman's animus, in the form of a man. Moreover, Jung believes men are typically more inclined in waking life to desire sexual relationships with many women, while the ideal consciously cherished by most women is a lifelong relationship with one man. As a result, a man's psyche will compensate by depicting the anima as one woman, while a woman's psyche will compensate by depicting the animus as many (i.e., a group of) men (see CJBW 177). Rather than regarding such dream images as fulfilling the dreamer's wish (as Freud would), Jung regards them as resulting from the psyche's attempts to maintain balance. His view is not intended as a comment on the morality of either of these natural tendencies, but merely to observe that both represent extreme positions that the psyche will attempt to balance, regardless of the individual's moral beliefs about sexuality.

The anima and animus also differ when they are applied to other sorts of symbols that appear in your dreams. When analyzing a dream, it is therefore essential to know whether the dreamer is male or female. For example, when a man dreams of the moon, this is usually an anima symbol, whereas the sun generally stands for the male ego. But for a woman the situation is likely to be reversed: the sun represents the animus, with the moon representing her ego. Why this difference? Because many objects have traditional symbolic associations with either a masculine or a feminine nature. In most cultures, the moon has a feminine character, while the sun is masculine. If you think these objects are symbolizing your unconscious, you must therefore associate your ego with the one that matches your gender and your anima or animus with the opposite one. This can be regarded as a general rule that applies to all symbols that have obvious opposites: the masculine symbol (e.g., the head, a straight line, a father, a dog) represents a man's ego and a woman's animus; the feminine symbol (e.g., the heart, a circle, a mother, a cat) represents a woman's ego and a man's anima.

Let's look now at my longer sample dream as an example of the anima archetype. (Not being a woman, I cannot give an example of the animus from my own dreams. But hopefully the ladies taking the course can translate my male-oriented insights into their own female-oriented situation.) The dream contains two possible anima figures, representing the negative and positive anima: the "meter maid" and Hillary Clinton. The other female who appears in the dream, Dorothy (my wife), is not likely to be an anima figure because she is so familiar to me in waking life; moreover, she makes only a brief appearance at the midpoint of the dream text, as if to signal that the remainder of the dream relates to leadership in the home, as I suggested in Lectures 15 and 17. So I'll focus here on the other two females.

My associations with meter maids are not very flattering; in England (where I lived from 1980 to 1987) they tend to be stereotyped as being strict, unbending, and rather disagreeable. My natural inclination, when stopped in connection with possible traffic violations, is to argue my way out of any fine. (In this connection, I have a clear childhood memory of watching my father persuade a policeman not to fine him for crossing the street in an inappropriate place.) The dream compensates for this tendency by showing me responding very passively to the meter maid. Instead of complaining, I "feel silly" and ask for her advice on a more suitable place to park. This is significant not only because it brings to my attention a conscious character-trait that is out of balance (i.e., I tend to complain too much to authority figures), but also because the negative anima in this dream, as a representative of the law, is herself pictured as an authority figure-a role usually taken by my shadow.

The most important point about the negative anima in this dream is that, despite my unfavorable associations with such a person, I allow her to be my guide. By leading me to a safe place to park my car, she makes it possible for me to enter the Clintons' house (i.e., to take up the challenge of being a good leader, especially at home) without worrying about a further violation. Note the contrast between this reaction and the response my dream ego has to the shadow's request for advice later in the dream: instead of allowing myself to be possessed by the shadow's interests, I leave the house. The implication of this interpretation, that my tendency to project my shadow onto authority figures is gradually subsiding, is confirmed by a number of events that were happening around the time I had this dream. And the interpretation is further confirmed by my brief interaction with Hillary.

As the primary (positive) anima figure in the dream, Mrs. Clinton is portrayed as still being partially "trapped" by the shadow: she is still "married" to Bill, but convinced that a "divorce" will soon take place. I, as the dream ego, intensify this statement by confirming that everyone expects that she (the anima) and he (the shadow) will soon be separated. In terms of archetypal symbolism, this is very good news. It signals that I am ready to enter into deeper levels of individuation-to peel off another layer of the onion, so to speak. Since such interpretations are symbolic, though, they are not fully meaningful until they are related specifically to the dreamer's own waking situation. I must ask myself the crucial question: How am I like the meter maid, Hillary and Bill?

To answer this question I must first step outside the dream reality and into waking reality. The final interpretive task is to apply the archetypal symbolism to the challenge raised by the dream itself: how to "make some change" without incurring a "fine". Jung emphasizes that this task is the interpreter's task, not something we can expect the dream itself to decide for us (DA 110):

I must repeat that the unconscious ... is just Nature, it says what is happening, as an objective event. The dream never says what ought to be done or what ought not to be. We have to draw our own conclusions.... The dream is merely a statement of things which are actually going on.

What the sample dream tells me is that at that point in my individuation, I was in the latter stages of struggling with the authority-figure aspect of my shadow. I was learning to recognize that authority can be an anima-characteristic as well, and hence something I can cooperate with instead of rebelling against. And I was looking forward to the day when the most fruitful aspects of my anima (e.g., the feelings symbolized by Hillary's flirtatious behavior in the dream) could be released to take me into a deeper awareness of my Self.

When this dream occurred, I was, in fact, faced with a situation that involved me in a serious dispute with an authority figure. Just a week before the dream I had lodged a formal appeal, requesting that a certain administrative decision be changed. Three weeks after the dream, I dropped my request, believing my appeal to be unnecessary. Just as the dream portrays me as leaving the bank before getting any "change", and then being fined for the attempt, so also in my waking life I was severely chastised a few weeks later by this administrator, even though I had already dropped the appeal. In past years, I would have responded by complaining openly and in detail to such unfair treatment. But this time, I did not complain to the "meter maid" about her "fine". Instead, I "parked my car" (i.e., focused my attention) in another place: I stayed home more than usual over the next few months and devoted my energy to developing a web site. The remainder of the dream likewise reflects the state of my personal growth at that time; but further details are not necessary to make the basic point that the dream accurately reflected my psychic state at the time.

Instead of dwelling further on the accuracy of the dream's symbolic reflection of my psychic state, let's now look more closely at how each archetype can be interpreted subjectively (i.e., as an aspect of myself). The dream ego seems to glide through the dream, reminiscent of Chuang Tzu's "free and easy wandering". This compensates for my waking ego's tendency to react emotionally in such situations (due to my anima-complex), providing me with a good model for balancing this aspect of my psyche. The meter maid shows me the potential I have to enforce rules strictly, compensating for my tendency to interpret rules very loosely, and encourages me to respect the rules (as the dream ego does). The image of Hillary-contemplating-divorce indicates that a significant part of my anima is still "trapped", needing to be released in the future. And the image of Bill-cooking-a-turkey tells me that the progress of my individuation is being held up until I can integrate a proper attitude toward authority into my waking life.

This sketch of a subjective interpretation is intended to serve as an example for you to follow: in your own dream diary you should explain (in more detail, if possible) how each archetype you encounter in your dreams provides you with specific insights concerning your own personal growth. To assist you in doing so, I shall review Jung's theory of the basic structure of the psyche as it stands so far by mapping the four elements specified in Figure VI.1 onto the cross, just as I did with Freud's theory in Week III (cf. Figures III.1 and III.2). The "covering-covered" distinction defining the horizontal and vertical poles in Figure VI.2 refers to the fact that the persona and anima serve as a protective "shell" for the ego and shadow, respectively (cf. Figure VI.1). The map is meant in this case to be read counter-clockwise, starting at the top (the ++ pole [see TP 71]). It thus reflects Jung's view of the order in which we encounter these psychic elements.

Comparing the map given in Figure VI.2 with the one in Figure III.2 reveals interesting correspondences between Freud's id-superego distinction and Jung's shadow-anima/animus distinction. Jung's claim that the shadow unconsciously controls the immature psyche (especially the

Figure VI.2: Conscious vs. Unconscious Reality

anima/animus) is in some ways similar to Freud's view that the superego controls the id through its repressive activity. Freud's twin instinctual drives (sex and death) are therefore parallel to Jung's twin archetypes (the anima/animus and the shadow). Jung's theory can be regarded as a revision of Freud's view, inasmuch as the shadow includes the superego, but much more. (Jung opines, incidentally, that Freud himself never fully came to terms with his own shadow [MDR 172-178].) Likewise, Jung's "anima/animus" is a recasting of Freud's "id". Both versions stress the sexual nature of this aspect of the human psyche, but Jung's distinguishes more clearly between its male and female manifestations, and treats sexuality as a symbol for the meaning of life, rather than vice versa. By revising and expanding Freud's account of the structure of the psyche, Jung reveals its reality and the crucial role it plays in establishing the meaningfulness of human life.

Freud and Jung are to psychology what Aristotle and Plato are to western philosophy (see Lecture 5 and TP, Chs.4-5): complementary opposites who together sum up the fragmented beginnings of a new discipline, setting it on a path that many after them would follow. To conclude this "caterpillar" stage in the evolution of our course, I've therefore prepared a detailed summary of their contrasting views, as shown in Figure VI.3. This table lists differences between Freud and Jung, not necessarily exact opposites. Note that the last three items, relating to their views on culture and religion, will be examined more thoroughly in Week XI.

A danger at this point, now that we have examined most of the main theories on dream interpretation proposed by Freud and Jung, is to think our understanding of the unconscious and its "dream of wholeness" is nearly complete. However, even if you have already experimented with wish fulfillment and compensation, explored various symbolic interpretations, and discovered some of the characteristics of your own archetypes, this is far from true. Remember that we are still only halfway to our goal. My hope is that the summary given below will prepare you for our retreat into the "cocoon" of the Self in Stage Three, thus enabling you to see the "butterfly" more clearly when it emerges.

Figure VI.3: 12 Contrasting Views of Freud and Jung

QUESTIONS/TOPICS FOR GROUP DISCUSSION

1. Does God have a shadow? (Assume here that God exists.)

2. Do you agree with Jung's theory that men are essentially rational, while women are essentially emotional?

3. Share something about your ego or persona, and ask for comments on the accuracy of your observations.

4. Share a dream that you think relates to your shadow or anima/animus, and explain its significance for your personal growth.