It was some months after the incident just described that my schoolmates hung the nickname “Father Abraham” on me.

No. 1 could not understand why, and thought it silly and ridiculous.

Yet somewhere in the background I felt that the name had hit the mark.

All allusions to this background were painful to me, for the more I read and the more familiar I became with city life, the stronger grew my impression that what I was now getting to know as reality belonged to an order of things different from the view of the world I had grown up with in the country, among rivers and woods, among men and animals in a small village

bathed in sunlight, with the winds and the clouds moving over it, and encompassed by dark night in which uncertain things
happened.

It was no mere locality on the map, but “God’s world,” so ordered by Him and filled with secret meaning. But apparently men did not know this, and even the animals had somehow lost the senses to perceive it.

That was evident, for example, in the sorrowful, lost look of the cows, and in the resigned eyes of horses, in the devotion of dogs, who clung so desperately to human beings, and even in the self-assured step of the cats who had chosen house and barn as their, residence and hunting ground.

People were like the animals, and seemed as unconscious as they.

They looked down upon the ground or up into the trees in order to see what could be put to use, and for what purpose; like animals they herded, paired, and fought, but did not see that they dwelt in a unified cosmos, in God’s world, in an eternity where everything is already born and everything has already died. Carl Jung, MDR, Pages 66-67

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