Through a Jungian Lens

On a walk through this beach village, I came across this tree which for all appearances looked to be dead.  Then, I noticed two little new bits of growth.  One of them stood proudly out in the open and the other stood quietly behind the centre stage occupied by the other.  It made me think of One being an extravert and the other being an introvert.

Appearances are deceiving for us most of the time.  We see how people act and then we draw conclusions about the nature of those people.  We don’t understand that an introvert could very likely find himself or herself in a career that requires them to be present in significant ways with coworkers and clients.  Take two active and dynamic workers and beneath the behaviours one might be an introvert in spite of the behaviours.  So how does one know?

In Jung’s model, introversion and extraversion are psychological modes of adaptation.  In the former, the movement of energy is toward the inner world.  In the latter, interest is directed toward the outer world.  In one case the subject (inner reality) and in the other the object (outer reality) is of primary importance.  Whether one is predominately introverted or extraverted – as opposed to what one is doing at any particular time – depends on the direction one’s energy naturally, and usually, flows. (Sharp, Jung Uncorked:  Book One, 2008, p. 61)

Too much quiet, inner time wears an extravert’s system down.  My wife is predominately an extravert.  She is able to gain energy in interaction with others.  I, on the other hand, find that too much time, or even too many people fatigue me.  If I am to recharge, I need quiet, alone time.  Then, I am able to connect with the subjective inner world, a world that was drowned out when I was behaving as though an extravert.  For me, the opportunity to allow my thinking pattern, fantasy thinking, free reign finds me building an inner excitement.  Whereas in a crowd, after a time, I feel overwhelmed with directed thinking and become quieter and quieter as I have worked too hard in an area that is not my natural state.

I am an introvert, but I do operate as an extravert whenever possible, for as long as possible.  Anyone watching me when I am “present” and “engaged” actively would not hesitate to think that I am an extrovert.  So much for behaviours being predictors of psychological typology.

While in Progreso, Yucatan, a small city on the northern coast, I came across this herd of goats with both a man and a woman acting as shephards.  They were trying to move the goats to a small green area next to a trucking lot filled with trailers.  The contrast with a modern world of sattelite televisions is amazing.  Contrasts.  It makes for good photos and it makes for drama.  And, it makes for stress and conflict.

The contrast between our conscious self and our unconscious self is just as stark.  Refusing to acknowledge the presence of the opposite, the constrast causes one untold grief.  Denying the existence of the old ways in a modern world leads to an impovershment of both new and old ways.  Denying the existence of one’s shadows and presences of archetypes as they present themselves to us through dreams, through our interactions and our behaviours results in psychic pain akin to psychosis.

We actually know that there is something wanting our attention, yet we refuse to acknowledge it out of fear.  To acknowledge this “something” means us opening a can of worms, a Pandora’s Box.  We know that things can never be the same once we go “there”.  And fear tells us that it can only be worse.  Well, in a way, it will be worse for the persona that we desperately cling to for personal meaning.  Yet, as in the Pandora Box tale, opening the box has a great gift waiting for us.