When Jung was immersed in his study of the symbolism of the fish
in Christianity, alchemy and world mythology, the theme started leaping at him
in everyday life. On April 1, 1949, he made some notes about an ancient
inscription describing a man whose bottom half was a fish. At lunch that day,
he was served fish. In the conversation, there was talk of the custom of making
an "April fish" - a European term for "April fool" - of
someone.
In the afternoon, a former patient of Jung's, whom he had not
seen for months, arrived at his house and displayed him some
"impressive" pictures of fish. That evening, Jung was shown
embroidery that featured fishy sea monsters. The next day, another former
patient he had not seen in a decade recounted a dream in which a large fish
swam towards her.
Several months later, mulling over this sequence as
an example of the phenomenon he dubbed synchronicity, Jung walked by the lake
near his house, returning to the same spot several times. The last time he
repeated this loop, he found a fish a foot long lying on top of the sea-wall.
Jung had seen no one else on the lake shore that morning. While the fish might
have been dropped by a bird, its appearance seemed to him quite magical, part
of a "run of chance" in which more than "chance" seemed to
be at play. [1]
If we're keeping count (as Jung did) this sequence
includes six discrete instances of meaningful coincidence, five of them bobbing
up, like koi in a pond, within 24 hours, and all reflecting Jung's
preoccupation with the symbolism of the fish. Such unlikely riffs of
coincidence prompted Jung to ask whether it is possible that the physical world
mirrors psychic processes "as continuously as the psyche perceives the
physical world."
In her discussion of how inner and outer events can mirror each
other, Jungian analyst Marie-Louise von Franz suggested that "if the
psychic mirrorings of the material world - in short, the natural sciences -
really constitute valid statements about matter, then the reverse
mirror-relation would also have to be valid. This would mean that material events in the external world would
have to be regarded as statements about conditions in the objective psyche." [2]
Some of the greatest minds of the past century -
Jung and Wolfgang Pauli and David Bohm - sought to model a universe in which
mind and matter, subject and object, inner and outer, are everywhere
interweaving. Events, both physical and psychic, unfold from a unified field,
the unus mundus of
the alchemists, that may be synonymous with Bohm's "implicate order",
Their interaction escapes our ordinary perception of causation and of time and
space. “Precisely because the psychic and the physical are mutually
dependent...they may be identical somewhere beyond our present
experience.” [3]
Living symbols deeply ingrained in the imaginal
history of humankind are charged with magnetic force, which can draw clusters
of events together. For those familiar with tarot, it feels at such moments as
if one of the Greater Trumps is at play in the world. Traditional diviners
understand this, as do true priests and priestesses. Thus one of the Odu, or
patterns, of Ifa, the oracle of the Yoruba, is held to bring the fierce orisha Ogun into the
space, while another is believed to carry spirits of the dead into the realm of
the living. When that happens, you don't just study the pattern; you move to
accommodate or propitiate the power that is manifesting.
To grasp the full power of a symbol, we need to go
back to the root meaning of the word. "Symbol" is derived from the
Greek σύμβολον (sýmbolon) which combines συν- (syn-) meaning
"together" and βολή (bolē) a "throw" or a "cast"
A symbol is that which is "thrown together" or "cast
together". This is very close to the root meaning of
"coincidence". In Latin, to coincide is to "fall together".
So it's not surprising that when symbols are in play, coincidence multiplies.
The first literary mention of a symbol is in the Homeric Hymn to
Hermes, in which the god Hermes exclaims, on finding a tortoise, "O what a
happy symbol for me", before turning the tortoise shell into a lyre. In
the ancient world, sýmbolon came to mean a token, that which
brings things together. Thus a symbol might be a pair of tokens that could be
fitted together to make a single object. Such tokens might be broken halves of
potsherd, a ring or a seal. They would vouch for the truthfulness of a
messenger, or an enduring loyalty.
- Jung noted in his foreword to his most important work on synchronicity that "my researches into the history of symbols. and of the fish symbol in particular, brought the problem [of explaining synchronicity] ever closer to me" [4] His experiences of symbols irrupting into the physical world led him to sympathize with Goethe's magical view that "We all have certain electric and magnetic powers within us and ourselves exercise an attractive and repelling force, according as we come into touch with something like or unlike." [5] Such powers are magnified when our minds and our environment are charged with the energy of a living symbol.
REFERENCES
1.
C.G.Jung, "On Synchronicity". Lecture to the 1951 Eranos conference.
Republished in The Structure
and Dynamics of the Psyche translated by R.F.C.Hull [Collected Works vol. 8},
par. 970. Also Jung, "Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle"
in CW8 pars. 826-827.
2. Marie-Louise von Franz, Projection
and Re-collection in Jungian Psychology. translated by William
H. Kennedy (LaSalle and London: Open Court, 1990) 190.
3. C.G.Jung, Mysterium
Coniunctionis: An Inquiry into the Separation and Synthesis of Psychic
Opposites in Alchemy translated by R.F.C.Hull [CW14] par. 765.
4. Jung, "Synchronicity" CW8 par. 816.
5. J.P. Eckermann, Conversations
with Goethe quoted in Jung, "Synchronicity" CW8 par.
860.
Illustrations: "Fish Woman on the Bridge". Journal drawing by Robert Moss and detail.
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