Chapter One

Active Imagination

Inconspicuous, in the lower right corner, lies a sleeping
woman. All around is the vast field of the mythopoetic
imagination, full of images, full of the eyes that see them.
There is the Grail, there is Death, there is the double helix
of science woven together in a new worldview that is truly
comprehensive. Here we can sleep yet be fully awake. Here
we can experience the sacred mythical dimensions of life.

Some dreams seem to reach beyond the boundaries of the dream world and demand our engagement in the waking one. Such engagement is called active imagination. Jung described active imagination as a way to "heal, raise, and transform the personality."1 When we practice active imagination, we consciously allow ourselves to reenter a dream landscape or have a dialogue with a dream figure. Active imagination can be used to elaborate and deepen the experience of a dream. It can be considered a more advanced technique for "tending the dream garden."

Jung used active imagination extensively in his personal and clinical work. After his break with Freud, Jung went through an intense period of personal crisis. Freud was the mentor, and Jung was the heir apparent. Without Freud, Jung was professionally isolated. He became depressed and experienced haunting dreams and visions.

Instead of struggling against his depression, Jung decided to "drop down" into his inner world and simply accept whatever he encountered. He saw demons, images of death, and seas of blood, but he also met Philemon, his winged spirit guide. Through encountering this inner world in active imagination, he found a path out of his despair. Jung’s journey in active imagination is described in words and art in his posthumously published The Red Book.

Dream Amplification

I had the following dream a few years ago:

I am told by an inner voice that there is something going on in my house. At night when I am alone, I go down to investigate. I am trying to find some entity that is there. There lounging in the easy chair downstairs is a small elflike creature. He taunts me, saying, "Are you looking for me?" in a sarcastic, hostile tone, as if he were picking a fight. He wears very old- fashioned clothes and has straw-like brown hair.

In the dream, the elf taunts me, but upon awakening, it seems that such an elf might have more to offer than sarcasm and jests. Elves, after all, usually have access to treasure.

This sort of dream invites dialogue. The elf seems to be there for a reason, seems to have a purpose beyond his sarcastic persona. In active imagination, one would set aside a quiet time and place to have a conversation with the elf. I sat in the easy chair in my study and entered into a quiet, meditative state of mind. I spoke to him. "Thank you for visiting; what have you come to tell me?"

It is essential to speak to inner figures respectfully and thoughtfully. At first, nothing may come; give the process of active imagination time and space. Be patient, keep trying, or pick another time to talk to the elf. My elf friend spoke readily, but I have practiced active imagination for years. When you are new to active imagination, it can be helpful to arrange to have someone check on you after half an hour.

Of course, because we are affected by our cultural milieu, an inner voice will tell us that this active imagination idea is stupid, that we are just making it up. Allow that more critical voice to speak, but do not take their voice as truth; allow other voices to speak. With practice, one will enter a kind of reverie and experience a genuine interaction with an inner figure.

Talking to the Elf

With the elf’s permission, I offer a bit of dialogue, though he asks that I not be too personal.

Me: Thank you for coming. Tell me who you are and why you are here.

Elf: You came looking for me. You wanted to understand that entity inside you that tricks and deceives.

Me: You scare me—but somehow, I trust you. So often, I should be happy, but I’m not. I am loved, I have accomplishments, but sometimes these accomplishments don’t seem real. It seems that these good things are doomed to vanish. Why do I feel that way? Is that your doing?

Elf: Of course, I do trick you, but I am showing you what you are doing to yourself. You must learn to ignore my trickery. I can only trick you by doing what you are doing to yourself. When you learn to see through my trickery, I can, if I choose, reward you.

Me: How can you reward me?

Elf: I can teach you. Wisdom is the treasure I offer.

The dialogue often takes on a life of its own, outside the ego’s control. My own questions surprised me, like the first one about my unhappiness. I don’t know where that came from. Dialogues are often emotional; this one stirred up feelings I didn’t know I had.

One should be careful with some inner figures. The elf seemed friendly enough in the dream, so I felt comfortable talking to him. Spirit guides and old friends appearing in dreams are usually easy to talk to, but I would discourage a novice from talking to darker figures—like demons, witches, or dangerous-looking people—without therapeutic guidance and support. Try to hone your skills by talking to amiable figures first. Although one must be careful talking to inner figures, there are hidden dangers in not talking to them. When we don’t understand the inner figures within us, they can affect our feelings and actions without our awareness.

So, was I really talking to an elf? In the real, day-to-day world, of course not! But in the world of the imagination, yes, absolutely, I was, and in that world, he answered. As the poet W. H. Auden said, "We are lived by powers we pretend to understand."2

Crayons

I recently attended an experiential workshop on active imagination and exploring dreams through art. In the first half of the class, we discussed art and active imagination, and we were instructed on incubating a dream related to the workshop. I had the following dream:

I have two crayons: a white crayon and one made of bright flecks of color. I can choose to paint the world with either crayon. In the dream I realize that to paint the world with the white crayon would mean clinging to a false belief that the world is objective and exists outside of my reality; to use the multicolored crayon is to accept the truth that aspects of my internal world exist "out there" in reality.

We might call the crayon a Heisenberg crayon. Heisenberg was the physicist who realized that the observer of any experiment influences the result; his uncertainty principle is an important axiom of modern physics. According to Heisenberg, the observer "colors" the observation in the very act of observing.

Upon awakening I realized that this dream is, in a subtle way, about active imagination. I made a crayon sketch of the dream scene. The dream is a call to a way of thinking that recognizes the presence of internal forces and energies in the world. Anthropologists call this view of the world mythopoetic in contrast to an objectivist, scientific worldview. In the mythopoetic world I can color the world with my magic crayon and talk to the elf. He is real, but according to a different sense of reality.

One Path, Your Path

Jung’s official clinical method was a form of talk therapy, exploring through words the meaning of a patient’s life and experiences. But with himself and his most advanced students Jung worked in a different way. The Red Book is the handbook to that second path. Jung often said "there is only one path, your path." His path was The Red Book. This massive book, meticulously handwritten and hand-painted, had the look and feel of a medieval illuminated manuscript. He resisted any effort to publish it, and he only showed it to his most advanced trainees. Jung did not feel the world was ready to understand his true path, that of the active imagination, that of a new mythopoetic world that transcended the scientific one.

Questions for Reflection

• What are the myths that are alive in my world?

• Which dream figures do I need to talk to, draw, paint, dance with?

• How can I invite a sense of myth into my life?