Through a Jungian Lens

Spring crocus May 2012

I do love spring, especially as I wander with my camera and spot new life emerging from the ground following the warming of the earth which had been frozen in winter. There is something uplifting in spotting these first wildflowers of a new season. They are so fragile yet somehow they survive winters of temperatures that drop to -30 and even -40 Celsius, temperatures that are made even worse by winter winds and the lack of sunshine which mark Canadian prairie winters.

I have specific associations with the colours of the crocus, the mauve and the golden centre, associations that go back to youth and the colours I would see in church services; the purple of lent and the gold of Easter Sunday. I know that there are other colours associated with Easter, but this intellectual knowledge takes second place in contrast to my childhood associations. Spring was about the delicate colours of new birth that arrived each year, colours that often found their way into the colours of clothing worn by the women that seemed to mimic the season. Though Easter has long passed, it is the colours and the appearance of these colours in nature that herald new beginnings and new birth – a rebirth of spirit – that have more significance. Nature tells me the real story, the story of time and place rather than the story of a fixed calendar.

It has been almost three months since I have returned to analysis, to the work of diving deep into the darkness of an inner world in order to reconnect and remember. Now, there seems to be a sense that light is beginning to rekindle external life with a new sense of energy and urgency, an up-welling of libido which demands that I live fully in my body as well as in my head. Yes, there is an urgency in this as the years of my life are racing towards a return to the source of all being.  I am being told, “don’t sit back and wait for a better time for this is the time, now.”

And, I have learned to listen to the guiding voice within, to trust that guiding voice. And so, I begin to move back into the land of external life with more purpose and with dreams that will finally be honoured, dreams that have lain dormant for too many years. This was the inspiration given to me as I wandered the Canadian prairies and found crocuses there to encourage me to be reborn, to be reinvigorated with life.

I am back in Canada, back on the Canadian Prairies.  When I left on January 1st, it was -30C.  It was a white and blue world.  Now, temperatures are in the mid-teens and faint shades of green are showing through the burnt grasses.  If all works out, I will find my way to the golf course in a few days.  Of course, I will again take my camera in hopes of capturing more spring scenes such as this one taken last year in April.

The world of Costa Rica has been left far behind and the world is again different.  I am as yet, unsure of what this difference will mean to me.  The changes in myself, in my spouse and in the rest of the world will call for me to be present in a different manner.  The best I can do is to keep my eyes, heart and mind open to what these changes have to offer.

This is the problem and the beauty of every spring.  New life, changes, hope.  Out of the skeletons of the dead, out of the burnt ashes, new life arises.

There are no quotes today.  Rather, I encourage you to go outside and search for your personal quotes in some sign of spring.  Find this symbol and allow it to speak to you.  Then, when you have heard, seen and felt, allow yourself to resonate and accept your changes.

Yesterday I took my camera with me when I went for my first round of golf for this new season.  There was no evidence of green yet in the semi-desert hills at the golf course.  The only signs of spring were a few clumps of crocus plants and open water on the river-lake.  In spite of the browns and the golds and the grays, the prairie crocus speaks of hope, of promise that life does arise out of the darkness of winter.  All of this is a gift of the sun, the warmth of the sun, the regenerative power of the sun.  As Jung states:

Sol in alchemy is much less a definite chemical substance than a “virtus,” a mysterious power believed to have a generative and transformative effect.  Just as the physical sun lightens and warms the universe, so, in the human body, there is in the heart a sunlike arcanum from which life and warmth stream forth. (CW vol. 7, “The Personification of Opposites”, paragraph 113)

Symbols.  The crocus is a symbol of rebirth, of spring, of hope, of a coming warmth.  As well, spring is about change and transformation – nothing will be the same.  Transformation is about moving forward, becoming more conscious, more aware as we move out of the darkness and the cold.