The Vision of the World Clock
THE “GREAT VISION.” There is a vertical and a horizontal circle, having
a common center. This is the world clock. It is s1tpported by the black bird.
The vertical circle is a blite disk with a white border divided into 4 X 8 = 32
partitions.
A pointer rotates upon it.
The horizontal circle consists of four colors.
On it stand four little men with pendulums, and round about it is laid the ring that was once dark and is now golden (formerly carried by the children).
The “clock” has three rhythms or pulses:
- The small pulse: the pointer on the blue vertical disk advances by 3.
- The middle pulse: one complete rotation of the pointer. At the same time
the horizontal circle advances by 3. - The great pulse: 32 middle pulses are equal to one rotation of the golden
ring.
This remarkable vision made a deep and lasting impression on the dreamer, an impression of “the most sublime harmony,” as he himself puts it. The world clock may well be the “severe form” which is identical with the Cabiri, the four children or four little men with the pendulums.
It is a three-dimensional mandala-a mandala in bodily form signifying realization.
(Unfortunately medical discretion prevents my giving the biographical details. must suffice to say that this realization did actually take place.)
Just why the vision of this curious figure should produce an impression of “the most sublime harmony” is, in one sense, very difficult to understand; but it becomes comprehensible enough as soon as we consider the comparative historical material. It is difficult to feel our way into the matter because the meaning of the image is exceedingly obscure.
If the meaning is impenetrable and the form and color take no account of our aesthetic requirements, then neither our understanding nor our sense of beauty is satisfied, and we are at a loss to see why it should give rise to the impression of “the
most sublime harmony.”
We can only venture the hypothesis that disparate and incongruous elements have combined here in the most fortunate way, at the same time producing an image which realizes the “intentions” of the unconscious in the highest degree.
We must therefore assume that the image is a singularly happy expression for an otherwise unknowable psychic fact which has so far been able to manifest only apparently disconnected aspects of itself.
The impression is extremely abstract. One of the underlying ideas seems to be the intersection of two heterogeneous systems by the sharing of a common center.
Hence if we start as before from the assumption that the center and its periphery represent the totality of the psyche and consequently the self, then the figure tells us that two heterogeneous systems intersect in the self, standing to one another in a functional relationship that is governed by law and regulated by “three rhythms.”
The self is by definition the center and the circumference of the conscious and unconscious systems.
But the regulation of their functions by three rhythms is something that I cannot substantiate.
I do not know what the three rhythms allude to.
But I do not doubt for a moment that the allusion is amply justified.
Since the figure has a cosmic aspect-world clock-we must suppose it to be a small scale model, or perhaps even a source, of space-time, or at any rate an embodiment of it and therefore, mathematically speaking, fourdimensional in nature although visible only in a three-dimensional projection.
I do not wish to labor this argument, for the interpretation of the figure would considerably overtax my present understanding.
As to the comparative-historical interpretation, we are in a rather more favorable position, at least as regards the general aspects.
We have at our disposal, firstly, the whole mandala symbolism of three continents, and secondly, the specific time symbolism of the mandala as this developed under the influence of astrology, particularly in the West.
The horoscope is itself a mandala (a clock) with a dark center, and a leftward circ11mambulatio with “houses” and planetary phases.
The mandalas of ecclesiastical art, particularly those on the floor before the high altar or beneath the transept, make frequent use of the zodiacal beasts or the yearly seasons.
A related idea is the identity of Christ with the Church calendar, whereof he is the fixed pole and the life.
The ()Eos Xpurros as vlos rov avp()cfnrov is a projection of the individual self into a symbolic figure, an obvious anticipation of the idea of the self.
Hence the Gnostic (Ophitic) adulteration of Christ with the Agathodaemon serpent, and with the Horus symbolism that can still be seen in medieval paintings:
Christ enthroned in the mandala with the four emblems of the Evangelists, the three animals and the angel, corresponding to Horus the Father with his four sons, or Osiris with the four sons of Horus.
For Horus was also a ~AWS avaro)..fis (rising sun), and Christ was still worshiped as such by the early Christians.
We find a remarkable parallel in the writings of Guillaume de Digulleville, prior of the Cistercian monastery at Chalis, a Norman poet who, independently of Dante, composed three “pelerinages” between 1330 and 1355: de la vie humaine, de l’ame, and de Jesus Christ.
The last canto of the Pelerinage de l’ame contains a vision of Paradise, which consists of seven large spheres each containing seven smaller spheres.
All the spheres rotate, and this movement is called a siecle (saeculum).
The heavenly siecles are the prototypes of the earthly centuries.
The angel who guides the poet explains:
“Quand la sainte Eglise dans ses oraisons ajoute: in saecula saeculorum, il ne s’agit point du temps de la-bas, mais de l’eternite.”
At the same time the siecles are spherical spaces in which the blessed dwell.
Siecles and cieux are identical. In the highest heaven of pure gold the King sits on a round throne which shines more brightly than the sun.
A couronne of precious stones surrounds him. Beside him, on a circular throne that is made of brown crystal, sits the Queen, who intercedes for the sinners. (Mary as God’s wife.)
“Raising his eyes to the golden heaven, the pilgrim perceived a marvelous circle which appeared to be three feet across. It came out of the golden heaven at one point and re-entered it at another, and it made the whole tour of the golden heaven.”
This circle is sapphire-colored.
It is a small circle, three feet in diameter, and evidently it moves round in a great circle like a rolling disk.
The great circle intersects the golden circle of heaven.
While Guillaume is absorbed in this sight, three spirits suddenly appear clad in purple, with golden crowns and girdles, and enter the golden heaven.
This moment, so the angel tells him, is une jete, like a church festival on earth:
Ce cercle que tu vois est le calendrier
Qui en faisant son tour entier,
Montre des Saints les journees
Quand elles doivent etre fetees.
Chacun en fait le cercle un tour,
Chacune etoile y est pour jour,
Chacun soleil pour l’espace
De jours trente ou zodiaque.
(This circle is the calendar
Which spinning round the course entire
Shows the feast day of each saint
And when it should be celebrate.
Each saint goes once round all the way,
Each star you see stands for a day,
And every sun denotes a spell
Of thirty days zodiacal.)
The three :figures are saints whose feast day is even now being celebrated.
The small circle that enters the golden heaven is three feet in width, and three :figures likewise make their sudden entry.
These signify the moment of time in eternity, as does the circle of the calendar.
But why this should be exactly three feet in diameter and why there are three :figures remains a mystery.
We naturally think of the three rhythms in our vision which are started off by the pointer moving over the blue disk, and which enter the system just as inexplicably as the calendar-circle enters the golden heaven.
The guide continues to instruct Guillaume on the significance of the signs of the zodiac with particular reference to sacred history, and ends with the remark that the feast of the twelve fishermen will be celebrated in the sign of Pisces, when the twelve will appear before the Trinity.
Then it suddenly occurs to Guillaume that he has never really understood the nature of the Trinity, and he begs the angel for an explanation.
The angel answers, “Now, there are three principal colors, namely green, red, and gold. These three colors are seen united in divers works of watered silk and in the feathers of many birds, such as the peacock. The almighty King who puts three colors in one, cannot he also make one substance to be three?”
Gold, the royal color, is attributed to God the Father; red to God the Son, because he shed his blood; and to the Holy Ghost green, “la couleur qui verdoye et qui reconforte.”
Thereupon the angel warns Guillaume not to ask any more questions, and disappears.
The poet wakes up to find himself safely in his bed, and so ends the Pelerinage de l’tlme.
There is, however, one thing more to be asked: “Three there are-but where is the fourth?” Why is blue missing?
This color was also missing in the “disturbed” mandala of our dreamer.
Curiously enough, the calendrier that intersects the golden circle is blue, and so is the vertical disk in the three-dimensional mandala.
We would conjecture that blue, standing for the vertical, means height and depth (the blue sky above, the blue sea below), and that any shrinkage of the vertical reduces the square to an oblong, thus producing something like an inflation of consciousness.
Hence the vertical would correspond to the unconscious.
But the unconscious in a man has feminine characteristics, and blue is the traditional color of the Virgin’s celestial cloak. Guillaume was so absorbed in the Trinity and threefold aspect of the roy that he quite forgot the reyne.
Faust prays to her in these words: “Supreme Mistress of the world! Let me behold thy secret in the outstretched azure canopy of heaven.”
It was inevitable that blue should be missing for Guillaume in the tetrad of colors, because of its feminine nature.
But, like woman herself, the anima means the height and depth of a man.
Without the blue vertical circle the golden mandala remains bodiless and two-dimensional, a mere abstraction.
It is only the intervention of time and space here and now that makes reality.
Wholeness is realized for a moment only-the moment that Faust was seeking all his life.
The poet in Guillaume must have had an inkling of the heretical truth when he gave the King a Queen sitting on a throne made of earth-brown crystal.
For what is heaven without Mother Earth? And how can man reach fulfillment if the Queen does not intercede for his black soul?
She understands the darkness, for she has taken her throne-the earth itself-to
heaven with her, if only as the subtlest of suggestions.
She adds the missing blue to the gold, red, and green, and thus completes the harmonious whole.
*
The vision of the “world clock” was neither the last nor the highest point in the development of the symbols of the objective psyche.
But it brings to an end the first third of the material, consisting in all of some four hundred dreams and visions.
This series is noteworthy because it gives an unusually complete description of a psychic fact that I had observed long before in many individual cases.
We have not only the completeness of the objective material but the care and discernment of the dreamer to thank for having placed us in a position to follow, step by step, the syntheti~ work of the unconscious.
The troubled course of this synthesis would doubtless have been depicted in even greater completeness had I taken account of the 340 dreams interspersed among the 59 examined here.
Unfortunately this was impossible, because the dreams touch to some extent on the intimacies of personal life and must therefore remain unpublished.
So I had to confine myself to the impersonal material.
I hope I may have succeeded in throwing some light upon the development of the symbols of the self and in overcoming, partially at least, the serious difficulties inherent in all material drawn from actual experience.
At the same time I am fully aware that the comparative material so necessary for a complete elucidation could have been greatly increased.
But, so as not to burden the meaning unduly, I have exercised the greatest reserve
in this respect. Consequently there is much that is only hinted at, though this should not be taken as a sign of superficiality.
I believe myself to be fully in a position to offer ample evidence for my views, but I do not wish to give the impression that I imagine I have said anything final on this
highly complicated subject.
It is true that this is not the first time I have dealt with a series of spontaneous manifestations of the unconscious.
I did so once before, in my book Symbols of Transf ormat-ion, but there it was more
a problem of neurosis in puberty, whereas this is the broader problem of
individuation.
Moreover, there is a very considerable difference between the two personalities in question.
The earlier case, which I never saw at first hand, ended in psychic catastrophe-a psychosis; but the present case shows a normal development such as I have often observed in highly intelligent persons.
What is particularly noteworthy here is the consistent development of the central symbol.
We can hardly escape the feeling that the unconscious process moves spiral-wise round a center, gradually getting closer, while the characteristics of the center grow more and more distinct.
Or perhaps we could put it the other way round and say that the center-itself virtually unknowable-acts like a magnet on the disparate materials and processes
of the unconscious and gradually captures them as in a crystalline lattice.
For this reason the center is-in other cases-often pictured as a spider in its web, especially when the conscious attitude is still dominated by fear of unconscious processes.
But if the process is allowed to take its course, as it was in our case, then the central symbol, constantly renewing itself, will steadily and consistently force its way through the apparent chaos of the personal psyche and its dramatic entanglements, just as the great Bernoulli’s epitaph 7 says of the spiral: “Eadem mutata resurgo.”
Accordingly we often find spiral representations of the center, as for instance the serpent coiled round the creative point, the egg.
Indeed, it seems as if all the personal entanglements and dramatic changes of fortune that make up the quintessence of life were nothing but hesitations, timid shrinkings, almost like petty complications and meticulous excuses for not facing the final reality of this strange and uncanny process of crystallization.
Often one has the impression that the personal psyche is running round this central point like a shy animal, at once fascinated and frightened, always in flight, and yet steadily drawing nearer.
I trust I have given no cause for the misunderstanding that I know anything about the nature of the “center”-for it is simply unknowable and can only be expressed symbolically through its own phenomenology, as is the case, incidentally, with every object of experience.
Among the various characteristics of the center the one that struck me from the beginning was the phenomenon of the quaternity.
That it is not “simply” a question of, shall we say, the “four” points of the compass or something of that kind is proved by the fact that there is often a competition between four and three.
There is also, but more rarely, a competition between four and five, though five-rayed mandalas must be characterized as abnormal on account of their lack of symmetry.
It would seem, therefore, that there is normally a clear insistence on four, or as if there were a greater statistical probability of four.
Now it is-as I can hardly refrain from remarking-a curious “sport of nature” that the chief chemical constituent of organic bodies is carbon, which is characterized by four valencies; also it is well known that the diamond is a carbon crystal. Carbon is black-coal, graphite-but the diamond is “purest water.”
To draw such an analogy would be a lamentable piece of intellectual bad taste were the phenomenon of four merely a poetic conceit on the part of the conscious mind and not a spontaneous production of the objective psyche.
Even if we supposed that dreams could be influenced to any appreciable degree by autosuggestion-in which case it would naturally be more a matter of their meaning than of their form-it would still have to be proved that the conscious mind of the dreamer had made a serious effort to impress the idea of the quaternity on the unconscious.
But in this as in many other cases I have observed, such a possibility is absolutely
out of the question, quite apart from the numerous historical and ethnological
parallels.
Surveying these facts as a whole we come, at least in my opinion, to the inescapable conclusion that there is some psychic element present which expresses itself through the quaternity.
No daring speculation or extravagant fancy is needed for this.
If I have called the center the “self” I did so after mature consideration and a careful appraisal of the empirical and historical data.
A materialistic interpretation could easily maintain that the “center” is “nothing but” the point at which the psyche ceases to be knowable because it there coalesces with the body.
And a spiritualistic interpretation might retort that this “self” is nothing but
“spirit,” which animates both soul and body and irrupts into time and space
at that creative point.
I purposely refrain from all such physical and metaphysical speculations and content myself with establishing the empirical facts, and this seems to me to be infinitely more important for the advance of human knowledge than running after fashionable intellectual crazes or trumped-up “religious” creeds.
To the best of my experience we are here dealing with important “nuclear
processes” in the objective psyche–“images of the goal,” as it were, which
the psychic process, being “purposive,” apparently sets up of its own accord,
without any external stimulus.
Externally, of course, there is always a certain psychic need, a sort of hunger, but it seeks for familiar and favorite dishes and never imagines as its goal some outlandish food unknown to consciousness.
The goal which beckons to this psychic need, the image which promises to heal, to make whole, is at first strange beyond all measure to the conscious mind, so that it can find entry only with the very greatest difficulty.
Of course it is quite different for people who live in a time and environment
when such images of the goal have dogmatic validity.
These images are then ipso facto held up to consciousness, and the unconscious is thus shown its secret reflected image in which it recognizes itself and so joins
forces with the conscious mind.
A prerequisite for this is that consciousness should be gripped by the images.
As to the question of the origin of the mandala motif, from a superficial point of view it looks as if it had gradually come into being in the course of the dream-series.
The fact is, however, that it only appeared more and more distinctly and in increasingly differentiated form; in reality it was always present and even occurred in the first dream-as the nymphs say later:
“We were always there, only you did not notice us.”
It is therefore more probable that we are dealing with an a priori “type,” an archetype which is inherent in the collective unconscious and thus beyond individual birth and death.
The archetype is, so to speak, an “eternal” presence, and the only question is whether it is perceived by consciousness or not.
I think we are forming a more probable hypothesis, and one that better explains the
observed facts, if we assume that the increase in the clarity and frequency of the mandala motif is due to a more accurate perception of an already
existing “type,” rather than that it is generated in the course of the dreamseries.
The latter assumption is contradicted by the fact, for instance, that such fundamental ideas as the hat which epitomizes the personality, the encircling serpent, and the perpetmtm mobile appear right at the beginning (first series: dream rand vision 5; second series: dream 9).
If the motif of the mandala is an archetype it ought to be a collective phenomenon, i.e., theoretically it should appear in everyone.
In practice, however, it is only to be met with in distinct form in relatively few cases,
though this does not prevent it from functioning as a concealed pole round which everything ultimately revolves.
In the last analysis every life is the realization of a whole, that is, of a self, for which reason this realization can also be called “individuation.”
All life is bound to individual carriers who realize it, and it is simply inconceivable without them.
But every carrier is charged with an individual destiny and destination, and the realization of these alone make~. sense of life.
True, the “sense” is often something that could just as well be called “nonsense,” for there is some incommensurability between the mystery of existence and human understanding.
“Sense” and “nonsense” are merely man-made labels which serve to give us a reasonably valid sense of direction.
As the historical parallels show, the symbolism of the mandala is not just a unique curiosity; we can well say that it is a regular occurrence.
Were it not so there would be no comparative material, and it is precisely the possibility of comparing the mental products of all times from every quarter of
the globe that shows us most clearly what immense importance the consensus
gentium has always attached to the processes of the objective psyche.
This is reason enough not to make light of them, and my medical experience has
only confirmed this estimate.
There are people, of course, who think it unscientific to take anything seriously; they do not want their intellectual playground disturbed by graver considerations.
But the doctor who fails to take account of man’s feeling for values commits a serious blunder, and If we divide the four hundred dreams into eight groups of fifty each, we come to the following results:
I. ………….. 6 mandalas V …………… r r mandalas
II. ………….. 4 ” VI. ………….. II ”
III …………… 2 ” VII. ………….. II ”
IV ………….. . 9 ” VIII …………… 17 ”
So a considerable increase of the mandala motif takes place in the course of the whole series.
if he tries to correct the mysterious and well-nigh inscrutable workings of
nature with his so-called scientific attitude, he is merely putting his shallow
sophistry in place of nature’s healing processes.
Let us take the wisdom of the old alchemists to heart: “Naturalissim11,m et perfectissimum opus est generare tale quale ipsum est.” ~Carl Jung, Eranos Spiritual Disciplines, Page 412-423
