Carl Gustav Jung
The Dream Meister, The Freudian Slip-knot
Male on the outside, female on the inside (explanation on the way).
I'm a Swiss homebody. I was born at home and educated at home. Then I worked from home and died—you guessed it—at home. I lived basically my whole life within a couple hundred miles of Lake Zurich in Switzerland. While I did go on several trips around the world, I mostly just chilled by the lake, had a bunch of crazy cool dreams, painted a lot of trippy paintings, and took forty years to build a small castle on my property. No big whoop—a quiet life really. On the outside my life felt like a really long working vacation. In my head—not so much. My inner life was a bit thornier. And monster teeth-ier.
I was a good kid. I did everything in its proper order: I went to high school and college in Basel, just down the road, and then came to Zurich for more school. In 1900, I became a physician at the Zurich Mental Hospital working with the most disturbed patients. Then I hung out in Paris for a year, and travelled to the US with this dude named Sigmund Freud, before coming back to lecture at Zurich University for a couple more years.
Then I just ditched it all and got a house on the lake. That's where I hung out for fifty-three years, dreamin', writin', paintin', and counselin' a lot of people, all from the comfort of my home. That's what being smart gets you, kiddos. Trust me, you've got a lot to look forward to… so long as you take a lot of sleeping pills to ride out the nightmares.
Went to high school in Basel. Didn't do so hot. I got pushed down on the playground and had some fainting spells after that emotional trauma. Dad said I was not going to amount to anything. I didn't dig that assessment so I started studying Latin grammar in Dad's library by myself and the fainting spells stopped. Weird, right?
Remembering that whole experience as an adult was what made me believe neuroses are real, yo. In 1895, I studied medicine at the University of Basel, then worked in a Mental Hospital, where I saw and heard a lot of freaky deaky things and eventually wrote my dissertation on the occult. Yeah, ghosts, crystals, possessions, hauntings—I was into all the spiritual phenomena from the very beginning. So much so, actually, that some people think I'm some kind of wizard or something. No, not that kind of wizard.
I'm all about the rights of the individual. I'm Swiss; I can't help it—we don't like heads of state. Yes, a confederation gets messy and complicated, but then again, I'm a psychoanalyst—complexity is my middle name. The State just ends up acting like a bad religion with all the brass bands and the colorful flags and the pledges and the boring ceremonies. A person who gives up his religion for the rhetoric of the State ends up in a lot of the same pointless activities.
I have a love/hate relationship with this God guy. My father was a Swiss Reformed Protestant Minister. There were eight other Parsons in my extended family so there was a lot of Jesus talk in my home. But that's all it was for me—talk.
Don't get me wrong, I did like the talk about God and this dude Jesus. I think it's essential that everyone has some kind of belief in a higher power. I just don't like the forced practice—all the praying and forgiving and church-going and tithe-paying so my bones can come out of the ground and be put back together and live in some place nobody's ever seen or come back from to talk about.
I believe God is a manifestation of my more complete self. I am my own God. Wait, that makes me sound kind of arrogant. I worship the God in myself—a nice pleasant god, not an egotistical, do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do, God. Yeah. It's kinda hard to explain.
The Alchemists (No, not these Alchemists)