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The Red Book

Although I am not the son of the God myself I represent him nevertheless as one who was a mother to the God, and one there-fore to whom in the name of the God the freedom of the binding and loosing has been given. The binding and loosing take place in me. But insofar as it takes place in me, and I am a part of the world, it also takes place through mei in the world, and no one can hinder it.

It doesn’t take place according to the way of my will but in the way of unavoidable effect. I am not master over you, but the being of the God in me. I lock the past with one key; with the other I open the future. This takes place through my transformation. The miracle of transformation commands. I am its servant,just as the Pope is.

You see how incredible it was to believe such of oneself. It applies not to me, but to the symbol. The symbol becomes my lord and unfailing commander. It will fortify its reign and change itself into a·starry and riddling image, whose meaning turns completely inward, and whose pleasure radiates outward like blazing fire, like a Buddha in the flames.

Because I sink into my symbol to such an extent, the symbol changes me from my one into my other, and that cruel Goddess of my interior, my womanly pleasure, my own other, the tormented tormentor, that which is to be tormented. I have interpreted these images, as best I can, with poor words. ~The Red Book, Page 250

Christ overcame the world by burdening himself with its suffering. But Buddha overcame both the pleasure and suffering of the world by disposing of both. And thus he entered into non-being, a condition from which there is no return. Buddha is an even higher spiritual power, that derives no pleasure from controlling the flesh, since he has altogether moved beyond pleasure and suffering. Passion, whose conquest still requires so much effort in the case of Christ and does so incessantly and in ever greater measure, has left Buddha and surrounds him as a blazing fire. He is both unaffected and untouchable.

But if the living I approaches this condition, its passion may leave it, though it will not die. Or are we not our passion? And what happens to our passion when it leaves the I? The I is consciousness, which only has eyes in front. It never sees what is behind it. But that is where the passion it has overcome in front regroups.

Unguided by the eye of reason, unmitigated by humaneness, the fire becomes a devastating, Kali, who devours the life of man from within, as the mantra of her sacrificial ceremony says:

“Hail to you, 0 Kali, triple Goddess of dreadful aspect, from whose throat hangs a necklace of human skulls. May you be honored with this blood!” Salome must of course despair of this end, which would like to turn Eros into spirit, since Eros cannot exist without the flesh.

In resisting the inferiority of the flesh, the I resists its female soul, which represents everything that strives to suppress conscious against spirit. Thus this path also results in an opposition. Hence the I returns from beholding the figures embodying its conflict. ~Carl Jung; Red Book

As long as you are not conscious of your self you can live; but if you become conscious of your self you fall from one grave into another. All your rebirths could ultimately make you sick. The Buddha therefore finally gave up on rebirth, for he had had enough of crawling through all human and animal forms.

After all the rebirths you still remain the lion crawling on the earth, the Chameleon, a caricature, one prone to changing colors, a crawling shimmering lizard, but precisely not a lion, whose nature is related to the sun, who draws his power from within himself who does not crawl around in the protective colors of the environment, and who does not defend himself by going into hiding.

I recognized the chameleon and no longer want to crawl on the earth and change colors and be reborn; instead I want to exist from my own force, like the sun which gives light and does not suck light.

That belongs to the earth. I recall my solar nature and would like to rush to my rising. But ruins stand in my way They say: “With regard to men you should be this or that.” My chameleonesque skin shudders. They obtrude upon me and want to color me. But that should no longer be. Neither good nor evil shall be my masters. I push them aside, the laughable survivors, and go on my way again, which leads me to the East. The quarreling powers that for so long stood between me and myself lie behind me. ~Carl Jung; Red Book.