Black Books

A dream told me that you were suffering, you Elijah, you Salome, you elders, and you, my maternal soul that cannot forget me.

You, maternal soul, tell me why should I, who had been your lover, appear to you now as your unbeloved man?

Apparently you must give up on me. It will be your salvation to return to your husband and not to address me as if I were your husband.

You call me by the name of one of my friends. Did you marry that one?

And yet you would like to be with me?

But, you see, when you are with me you are ill; you cannot lie to yourself that I am your husband.

Or would you, oh maternal soul, like to rebirth me and make me equal to him, thus to be of his kind; one that renders his feelings?

And what about you, Elijah and Salome?

Salome, you would like to embrace me.

Now then, so be it, you take responsibility.

But you, Elijah, heard a voice in the watches of night, the depths spoke to you, probably secret matters, things of what is to come.

You were like someone who needs my help.

Now then, I will grant it to you.

You seem like someone bound to things immemorial, scarcely believable. Must it be that way?

Or have you been caught against your will?

That’s how it seemed it had to be, that you were sworn to ancient ways, that the old reason retained boundless powers and you believed you could go free simply by distancing yourself.

Likely you must stay and I must return to you in order to fetch that light again and again which only you can ignite at the primordial fire.

But speak, suffering Elijah, and tell me how one might help you! ~Carl Jung, The Black Books, Vol. VI, Page 235-236